Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 316: Getting used to it

Olivia’s POV

I woke to the slow, deliberate sweep of fingers trailing across my back. A soft smile tugged at my lips as I instinctively tightened my arms around the broad chest beneath me.

But something felt... different.

Levi always carried the rich, heady scent of aged whiskey and rain. But the man holding me now didn’t smell like that. His scent was calmer, yet no less consuming... a warm blend of vanilla and jasmine that curled into my senses and settled deep.

I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who it was.

"Louis," I whispered, my voice still husky from sleep, a big smile spreading across my face. Slowly, I opened my eyes and met his gaze.

He was lying beneath me, one arm draped protectively around my waist, the other tracing slow, deliberate patterns along my bare back. His deep brown eyes locked with mine, and the air between us shifted—instantly thick, charged. That magnetic pull, that inescapable gravity of the mate bond, wrapped around us like invisible chains.

For a heartbeat, neither of us spoke. The rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek, the solid warmth of his body against mine... it was all too real, too familiar, too fascinating.

His lips curved into the faintest smirk, though his eyes held something far softer. "You were smiling in your sleep," he murmured, his voice low and smooth.

My throat tightened. I didn’t know how to respond, so I stayed quiet, my gaze lingering on his. The bond hummed between us, urging me to close the last inch of space, which I did.

Louis’s fingers stilled on my skin, his touch now firmer, more possessive. "You know you smell like him," he said quietly, his words not accusing but laced with a strange mixture of jealousy and acceptance.

I swallowed hard, the confession I couldn’t speak lingering on my lips. Instead, I let my hand slide up to his jaw, feeling the faint stubble beneath my fingertips. "Are you jealous?" I teased back.

Something flashed in his eyes that looked like possession. His hand came up to cradle the back of my head, his thumb brushing the line of my jaw as if I were something fragile he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch.

"Olivia..." His voice was barely a breath now, but it thrummed through me.

along my jaw as if committing every curve of me to

low, steady.

deep into me, pulling at something inside my chest. His

continued. "Because this... you... us... this isn’t temporary. It’s a

his voice. I cupped his cheek, letting my thumb sweep lightly across his skin. "Louis," I murmured, my

for truth. Whatever he saw there must have satisfied him, because his lips

kissed him—slow, warm, passionately—pouring my heart into that single moment. His fingers tightened on my waist, holding me there like he didn’t

the moment broke

instantly, one brow arched, but there was no anger in his eyes—only that same quiet understanding that always passed between

see you are awake," Levi said with a

but didn’t leave Louis’s arms. Rather, I rested my

you know..." he

in Levi’s hands as he crossed the room with that easy confidence of his. The warm aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, making my stomach tighten with sudden hunger I

bed, his movements unhurried, almost careful. Then he took a seat on the edge of the bed, his

to eat," he murmured, his voice gentle but leaving no room

I watched as Levi picked up a fork and scooped up a bite, bringing it toward me. For a heartbeat, I hesitated—part of me expecting Louis to shift away. But he didn’t. He only tightened his hold on me, tucking me closer into

fixed on mine.

savoring the simple, grounding act. Levi fed me another, and another, each

caught a faint shift of color in the window that I

I asked softly, glancing toward Levi.

but unreadable. "No. He won’t be coming tonight. The Alphas’

up just a little in Louis’s arms. "Where’s the

Louis briefly before answering. "A neutral ground ... a few kilometers from here." Then, after a short

enough gatherings to know the so-called "meetings" at clubs were rarely just about pack politics. There were always girls—too many girls—circling like moths around a flame, hoping

slightly against Louis’s arm as I tried to school my expression. But