The Omni-Wolf’s Choice novel Chapter 70

Chapter 70 Ready to go…

Connor’s POV

She has been freezing me out since that night in the club-since I took her in that filthy

bathroom-and it’s crawling under my skin.

Sure, I acted like a complete bastard. Sure, the shock hit me for reasons I can justify in

my head. None of that changes the fact that she needs to talk to me. I’m not letting up

until this curse is dealt with and she’s mine. Fully. Publicly.

I leave my office with one target: Evelyn.

She walked by earlier, and her scent has been stalking me ever since. Citrus and heat and something that sticks to the back of my throat. Mate bond or not, it doesn’t matter. A woman like her should never have been meant for something like me.

By the time I’m halfway down the corridor, my feet have already chosen her wing.

As I near her door, laughter spills out-light and bright like it doesn’t belong in a place that makes monsters out of Chapter Unlocked, Enjoy Reading!

“Okay, have fun,” Sienna says. “And I want every detail later.”

The door opens. Sienna steps out with Archer, and Archer’s eyes land on me like she’s

amused by the idea of my existence.

“Well, look at this,” Archer drawls. “Beta Connor. Didn’t expect you camping outside her

room.”

I give her a lazy smirk and look past them.

Evelyn is at her vanity. She’s working through that thick dark hair of hers, curls piled and

tamed and impossible all at once. In the mirror, those honey-hazel eyes catch mine and

hold-cold, sharp, refusing to soften.

“Hey,” I say from the doorway. “Can we talk?”

She doesn’t answer. She sets the brush down like it’s the only thing in the world worth

touching, then presses perfume behind her ears with slow, deliberate care.

Cute sweater. Jeans that fit her like they were stitched onto her body.

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My jaw tightens with every second of silence.

I step inside. The door clicks shut. Then the lock.

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Her breathing changes-just a fraction faster-but she keeps staring at herself as if I’m

nothing but a draft.

“Evelyn,” I start. “I owe you an apology.”

Nothing.

I grab the stool and turn it, forcing her to face me. “Look at me.”

Her expression doesn’t give. Mine is the one that cracks.

“The way I reacted,” I say, keeping my voice low, “that was about me. Not you.”

She watches without blinking.

“And-“I hesitate, then push it out anyway. “You didn’t think you should’ve told me it was your first time?” The last words come out rough, almost a whisper.

Her mouth hardens. “It was my decision. It’s what I wanted.”

Then, quieter, like she’s testing the blade: “I’m sorry you regret it.”

“What? No.” I lean in, anger snapping alive-at myself, at the memory, at the setting. “I don’t regret you. I regret where it happened. A bathroom in some dark club.”

I drag a hand through my hair. “You deserved… I don’t know. Something real. Flowers. S

oft words. Not paper towels and me talking like I’d lost my damn mind.”

A sharp laugh escapes her, humorless. “When are you going to understand I’m not the

innocent little angel you made up?”

She rises and grabs her phone and purse like she’s been waiting for this moment.

“Maybe,” she says, eyes flashing, “the way it happened was exactly what I wanted. Ever

consider that?”

She steps past me and adds, with venom that hits because she means it, “You asshole.”

I follow her automatically, like my body forgot how to do anything else. “Where are you

going?”

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She doesn’t slow down. “I have a date.”

My stomach drops.

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“With my cousin?” I bite out. “Absolutely not. How long are you going to keep doing

this?”

She stops just long enough to turn her head. “Until I find my mate and we claim each

other.”

Her gaze pins me. “Until then, I’m dating.”

A beat.

“Anything else?”

I have a thousand things I want to say and none that I’m allowed to.

My shoulders sag before I can stop them. Hers dip too-like something in her doesn’t

want this any more than I do.

Then she walks out, and I’m left in her room again, staring at a locked door that isn’t

locked anymore.

After the meeting, I make sure she’s covered.

Evelyn stays with her protection detail. My cousin has his own men in place too, all of us circling the coming coronation like it’s a storm we can’t outrun.

I end up in footage review with Pierce and a high-ranking witch named Adelaide. Luna Bridget told us to bring in someone else to look-fresh eyes-and she had been right.

Adelaide is all mess and focus: glasses, that librarian vibe, hair shoved into a bun that keeps slipping loose. Not that it matters. I don’t feel a damn thing for her. But smart?

Smart as hell.

“Bingo,” she blurts suddenly, leaning closer to the screen.

Pierce shifts beside her. “What did you catch?”

“Right there.” She taps. “That tree.”

She rewinds. Plays it again.

“See it blow left?” she says. “Now watch the loop.”

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My eyes narrow. The movement repeats too perfectly-like reality itself is stuttering.

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“It’s a glitch,” she says. “Somebody breached our perimeter feed. Southwest cameras were forced into a loop so your team kept seeing the same seconds over and over instead of what was actually happening.”

“So someone really was there,” I murmur.

The distortion is so subtle even my wolf eyes hadn’t picked it up, and that realization

needles me. It also reminds me why a mixed pack matters. We don’t all see the world

the same way.

Pierce scrolls through another angle. “Let’s see what the east-facing cameras caught.”

Seconds pass.

“There,” Adelaide says, voice sharpened to a point. “Behind those bushes.”

I see it a ripple in the air.

“A portal,” Pierce confirms. “And it’s got a clean sightline on the Luna.”

Adelaide nods quickly. “She wasn’t imagining it. Whoever it was had a view.”

Pierce straightens. “Now we identify them. Send this to the Alpha, immediately.”

He points at Adelaide. “And you’re coming. You earned the spotlight.”

Color rises in her cheeks. “It was all of us. Team effort.”

“Fine,” Pierce says, already gathering the files. “But you’re still explaining it.”

We bring everything to Ryder and Bridget.

Adelaide lays it out from start to finish, voice steady as she walks them through the

looped footage, the breach point, and the portal angle.

“…and that’s how we confirmed it,” she concludes. “Alpha. Luna.”

Ryder’s approval is immediate. “Good work.”

Bridget sits on his lap behind that massive wooden desk, composed but tight around the

eyes.

Ryder turns. “Lord Jude. Your move.”

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Jude doesn’t waste time. “My men will go to the portal location and conjure a mirror- reflection tracking spell. If the assailant opens it again, we’ll capture their image.”

He glances at Bridget. “Then, Luna, you send the message. When they take the bait, we move in and grab them-with whatever support you want assigned.”

The plan is familiar: recreate conditions, force the portal, trigger the trap. Violet’s spell

goes on the Trojan once it’s opened, and then we hit hard.

“I’m going with Jude,” Ryder says. “When it opens, we move fast. And we bring a tele-

porter in case the realm seals behind us.”

Violet steps forward. “We tested the Trojan. It works.”

She shows a video of the trial run.

Bridget exhales once. “I’m ready to send it.”

Lucas is at his computer, hands flying. “Ready, Luna.”

He runs a sequence, prepping the attachment.

Bridget opens the previous message thread and types her line.

I guess you only like to message when you think you control the game.

Send.

Now comes the waiting-always the worst part.

Jude and his men take their positions near the portal’s last location. Violet stands by

with her spell primed, ready to trigger the moment it’s read.

Ryder gathers me with the warriors. “Connor, you’re with me.”

He turns to the group. “Let’s move.”

Bridget rises just enough to kiss him.

The sight hits harder than it should. For a split second, I want Evelyn at my side, lips on

mine, telling me to come back alive.

Soon, I promise myself. Evelyn-soon.

We crouch behind the bushes, weapons and instincts held in tight.

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Minutes stretch until they feel like hours.

Then Lucas’s voice cuts through the mind-link, crisp and urgent.

‘The message has been viewed. Prepare to move.’

I roll my neck once, then flex my hands.

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Frustration has been piling up inside me for too long. I can’t control what my heart

wants. But a fight? A fight I can handle.

I push the warning through the link. “Portal’s forming. It’s working.”

The air ahead shimmers, thickening into a tear.

Everyone tenses.

This person has tormented our Luna long enough. Like she said-today it ends.

The portal snaps fully open.

I don’t hesitate. I’m moving before anyone can grab me.

I hear Ryder shout-my name, a command, something-but it’s already gone behind me.

I hit the other side with my wolf snarling at my skin, ready to tear out.

An old warehouse surrounds me, stale and cavernous. Smoke curls up from a fire at the

center where several witches chant in a ring, voices layered and ugly.

Then he steps into view.

Tall. Too thin. Wrapped in a white robe that drags across the floor. Hair the color of

bone. Skin so pale it looks half transparent.

I charge.

Pain bites my neck-sharp and sudden.

A needle.

My legs give, but my mind stays awake. I’m not unconscious. I’m trapped in my own

body, locked into a paralysis that won’t let me move or shift or fight.

The man bends over me, expression calm as a prayer.

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“You shouldn’t have come,” he says softly.

His eyes glint.

“She will be mine.”

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