Chapter 31 I heard scrambling and cursing from above. Panic flooded through me as I rushed toward the exit. Thanks to Matthew's training, even without the wolf, my movements remained swift and light. I stood at the manor's entrance, gripping the door frame as I vomited. My stomach, which had barely any food to begin with, expelled everything along with bile, burning my throat. I felt a piercing gaze fixed on me, so I looked up to search for it. In the middle of the road, a figure caught my eye, and I froze. My heart stopped beating for a moment. After six years apart, I had never imagined I would encounter him under such circumstances. The man stood straight and tall like a sturdy pine tree. His face was carved with knife-like determination. His sharp eyes seemed to see through everything, piercing my very soul. His healthy wheat-colored skin was particularly striking under the streetlights. I silently called out in my heart: "Killian." He was Matthew's most prized lieutenant, a god-like existence in our organization. My former partner-Killian Vance. The two of us locked eyes across the distance. Each had thousands of words to say but kept everything unspoken. Those of us who have been trained all understand that when meeting in unfamiliar places, do not engage in conversation. (God's POV) Olivia understood that Killian must have been assigned other tasks by Matthew. She said nothing and turned to leave. Her shoulders were rigid with pain and humiliation. Every step looked like it cost her tremendous effort. The two walked into the nearby café one after the other. They sat at tables several seats apart, gazing at each other from a distance. There was a rotating dartboard in the café. Olivia got up and played darts for a while, her movements precise despite her emotional state. Then she ordered a cup of coffee and brushed lightly past the man from behind as she left. Her fingers grazed his shoulder for just a moment. After Olivia left, Killian also stood up to play darts. His movements were careful and deliberate. He saw that Olivia had used the darts to mark points on the dartboard. Each point represented a coordinate in their old code system. He used his phone to input these coordinates, his fingers flying over the screen. The message decoded: "Fine, don't worry about me." Killian gripped his phone tightly, his knuckles white. His eyes were deep and dark, watching Olivia walk toward the door. But she didn't look fine at all. She looked broken. Theodore came downstairs fully dressed, his hair disheveled and his shirt hastily buttoned. He found the front door wide open. There was a pool of vomit at the entrance, but no one in sight. The smell made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. He frowned deeply. This was a top-tier estate where only high-ranking pack members lived. The security was strict and wouldn't allow outsiders to come and go freely. Who could have been here? Clara came downstairs dressed, her makeup smudged and her dress wrinkled. She handed him the silver-headed cane. "The cane was dropped on the stairs," she said nervously. "Did any ruffians appear?" Just as Theodore was saying he would have security check the surveillance footage, a tabby cat emerged from the bushes. It meowed pitifully as it jumped into Clara's arms. She was startled, then laughed with relief. "So it was this little troublemaker," she complained affectionately, stroking the cat's fur. Clara took Theodore's hand and placed it on her full breasts. They were still warm and flushed from their earlier activities. She rubbed against him like a cat in heat. Her eyes were heavy-lidded with renewed desire. "I want to go back to the room with you," she purred seductively. The drug's effects, not yet completely dissipated, surged through Theodore's heart again. His eyes became dark with lust. He grabbed Clara's hair and yanked her back roughly. She gasped and arched against him. With one hand gripping Clara's neck, he pressed her down on the sofa. He tore open her dress with his free hand. "You w***e," he growled. "I just pulled out and you're already in heat wanting me to f**k you?" But just as Theodore was about to enter her again, the wolf in his mind stirred restlessly. Logan paced anxiously, whimpering. This was a feeling he had never experienced before. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Theodore felt a wave of unease wash over him. He pushed Clara away abruptly, leaving her sprawled on the sofa. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNøvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "That business with the urn," he said coldly, his voice cutting through the air. "I'll settle accounts with you sooner or later!" Clara's face went pale. She was puzzled and didn't understand why he suddenly brought up what happened before again. She opened her mouth to protest, but Theodore was already walking away. Theodore walked out of the villa and along the road, his steps quick and agitated. Suddenly he saw a familiar figure walking away with a man. The woman's posture was unmistakable - it was Olivia. He followed their figures into a coffee shop, his heart pounding with sudden jealousy and suspicion. His Alpha instincts made him alert. That man's gaze hadn't left Olivia since entering the coffee shop. The stranger looked at her with an intensity that made Theodore's blood boil. There was something possessive in those eyes. Jealousy made Theodore lose his rationality completely. He didn't even have time to think about why Olivia was there. Or whether she had been at the manor gate before. All he could see was another man looking at his mate. He pushed open the coffee shop door with such force it slammed against the wall. The other patrons looked up in alarm. Theodore pulled Olivia behind him roughly and threw a punch at Killian. "Bastard, what are you staring at my mate for?" 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