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2.Bitter Encounters

Alpha Oliver's POV

"Oh, come on, grandma. I'm perfectly fine with my life as it is. I don't need your meddling. It's impossible she's still out there after all these years," I grumbled, growing increasingly irritated with my grandmother's ceaseless nagging about finding my damn mate.

"It's your twenty-ninth birthday, yet another year without your mate. How can you strengthen your alpha blood without a mate bond? I understand you're nonchalant, but I would like to see your pups," she insisted, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

"I've got a woman for that. When I'm ready, you can meet your grandkids," I replied curtly, rising from my seat. I wasn't in the mood for her tantrums. "I've got some meetings to attend," I added as I headed towards the exit.

"Rick will stay with you today. I know you feel secure around him," she mentioned. While having my beta around was comforting, I could manage a day without him.

"Thanks, I know you need him around. I'll find a replacement soon," I replied, noticing that she seemed more composed and at ease, fanning herself with her favorite paper fan. It was a relief to see her finally taking it easy.

"But don't think for a moment that I'll stop talking about your mate until you find her and bring her into this house," she declared, her determination evident. Damn it, there was no escaping this time. She was resolute.

Weary, I ran my hand through my hair in frustration and sank back onto the couch for a brief moment, grasping her hands.

"Mrs. Callum, please don't worry about my mate. As I've said, years have passed, and there's no indication she even exists, let alone that I've found her," I reassured her, gently stroking her hands as I spoke.

"You're the only alpha in the history of powerful werewolves without a mate. You must find her. You can't truly wield your alpha power without your mate. If need be, beseech the moon goddess herself," my grandmother persisted, my attempts at diversion clearly falling on deaf ears. She was clearly annoyed.

"Grandma, have you ever considered the possibility that I might not have a mate?" The idea of that notion actually gave me a glimmer of hope. At least I could choose a partner who suited me and who I thought would be fit to bear my children with alpha blood coursing through their veins.

"That's impossible. The moon goddess has destined a mate for every wolf, and I'm certain you have one. You're just avoiding finding her," she asserted firmly.

The real issue wasn't about finding her; it was about her not existing at all. I'd crossed paths with numerous influential, intelligent women across the globe, and not once did any of them fit the bill. No, this couldn't be the way. Furthermore, I felt more complete this way.

"Are you even listening?" My grandmother's words jolted me from my thoughts, pulling me back to reality.

With a soft grunt, I rose to my feet one final time and donned my suit jacket. "Well, I've got to head out."

I mentally connected with Rick, informing him that he'd be staying with my grandmother and that he should urgently find someone to take his place. The cost and qualifications didn't matter; character and swiftness were paramount.

As I strolled toward the waiting car, my driver promptly opened the door for me.

Despite my soft spot for my grandmother, the rest of the world saw me as an unyielding alpha. I had few friends—mainly business associates—and I was content with that arrangement.

After concluding my day's meetings, I decided to hit the club to unwind and let loose. New York City offered vibrant nightlife, especially on a Friday evening. Plus, I preferred returning to the mansion once I knew my grandmother was asleep.

Thanks to my financial investment in Club Royale, I had a reserved parking spot in the back. This afforded me the luxury of anonymity; I could come and go without attracting public attention. Maintaining privacy was one of the downsides of being a young billionaire with an array of businesses to oversee.

Upon entering the VIP section, a potent aroma of vanilla and mint caught my senses. My heart raced, and for an instant, I forgot to breathe. "Mate," my wolf jubilantly chimed in, filling me with a surge of excitement. I stood still, not wanting to miss this moment.

Scanning the crowd of dancers, I searched for her. Our eyes met, and it seemed as if she already knew me. She was the epitome of grace and beauty. Wearing shorts that showcased her long legs and a form-fitting shirt beneath her apron, she exuded undeniable allure.

Instinctively, I gravitated toward her, my inner chant of "Mate" urging me forward. However, upon nearing her, I realized she wasn't what I had envisioned. She was human!

"Do you recognize me?" she inquired, curiosity lacing her voice.

"As a matter of fact, I do—someone weak," I retorted, baffled by how the moon goddess could pair me with a human.

"Excuse me? That's beyond rude."

"What's truly rude is you being in my vicinity," I responded, attempting to assert my dominance.

Rather than cower in fear, she stood her ground. "If anyone's being rude, it's you. Did no one teach you how to treat a woman?" With that, she distanced herself from me.

It was then that I noticed her friend alongside her. They were likely newcomers; I'd surely remember a face like that. Frustration and irritation surged within me as I retreated to my private space, replaying the encounter in my mind.

I simply couldn't fathom how this had transpired. Over my dead body would I accept a mate like her. I needed to act swiftly and reject her before it went any further. Although I had been waiting for my mate for years, this wasn't it. I couldn't accept this.

Freya's POV

Never before had I felt so unwanted, even by an imaginary lover. The repulsion mirrored in his expression was a bitter pill to swallow. As much as I had hoped he was the man from my dreams, it seemed better to leave with unanswered questions than to endure further humiliation.

Celine appeared torn about leaving me alone, but giving in would only confirm the man's perception of me as weak. After assuring her we'd discuss it later, she headed to her assigned VIP booth while I made my way to mine.

"Good evening, gentlemen. I've brought your drinks," I greeted with a bright smile, determined to put my worries aside. "You've got your martini, chocolate-flavored vodka, and dry vermouth with plenty of ice."

Looking up, I noticed their intense gazes fixed on me, making my unease grow. It seemed wise to make a swift exit. I placed the drinks on their table. "If that's all," I said and began turning towards the door.

"Halt," one of the men demanded, his tone dripping with arrogance. "We haven't dismissed you yet. Shouldn't you attend to your customers before making a run for it?" he added with a sinister grin.

"That's why I asked if you needed anything else," I interjected.

"You asked, but we didn't answer. Now, strip," he ordered, moving closer and attempting to touch my face with his greasy hands.

"Excuse me?" The shock was overwhelming, but I knew I had to maintain composure.

"I said, strip," he repeated, his breath unnervingly close to my ear.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I'm a club server, not a stripper. I'm here to provide drinks, not entertainment," I explained, determined to assert my boundaries.

"I get to decide who I have fun with. Strip," he insisted, his voice growing louder. The stench of alcohol on his breath was overpowering. Yet even if his voice was loud, it would easily be drowned out amidst the club's boisterous atmosphere.

"I'll call someone for you," I suggested, trying to extricate myself from his grasp and move towards the exit.

In an instant, his companion joined in, grabbing me by my dress and causing me to stumble onto a nearby couch.

"Don't worry, baby girl. This will be over soon. I just want a taste of what's beneath those shorts. And once we're done, you'll be begging for more," the second man leered.

Desperation surged through me as I kicked my foot up, connecting with the first man's groin. But it became evident that my strength was no match for their combined force.

Oh God, no! This couldn't be how I experienced my first time! "Leave me alone! Help! Help!" I screamed, hoping against hope that amidst the club's cacophony, someone—an angel or perhaps Celine—would hear my cries and rush to my rescue.

"Release what's mine, or I'll rip your heads from your bodies," a commanding voice thundered from the entrance, freezing the men in their tracks. Cold sweat formed on their foreheads, and they seemed paralyzed.

I scrambled to my feet, clutching my tattered shirt, and ran towards my savior.

"I always knew you were weak," his voice dripped with disdain as he draped his suit jacket over my shoulders.

"I don't know what you've been drinking tonight, but you're crossing a line," I retorted, my frustration boiling over.

"I agree. I wouldn't have had to intervene if you could defend yourself," he remarked with an animalistic growl, his fists clenched.

"I was handling it," I insisted.

"Clearly. Right where they had you pinned," his words dripped with sarcasm as he rolled up his sleeves, moving towards the men who had assaulted me.

With a series of powerful blows, he left them bloodied and battered. I couldn't help but wonder how he'd explain his actions to the police, especially considering the club's numerous cameras. He wiped the blood off his knuckles, his expression a mix of rage and control.

"You'll resign," his tone left no room for argument, yanking my attention from my thoughts.

"Excuse me?" I asked, uncertainty lacing my words.

"Don't make me repeat myself. You'll resign from this place," he declared, his tone commanding as he wiped his knuckles clean.

"You don't get to dictate my choices," I bit back the urge to slap him.

"In fact, I do. And I don't want to see your face around me again," he ordered, before striding out.

I stood there, a whirlwind of emotions coursing through me. Confusion, anger, and humiliation mingled in a storm of my thoughts.

I pressed my fingers against the jacket he'd left draped over my shoulders, trying to steady my racing heart.

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