Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 328: Kept His Son Away

Sofia’s POV

The moment Damien left the room, I felt my knees weaken. I sank into the chair beside my son’s bed, my hands shaking as I smoothed the hair from his damp forehead. My heart was torn in half—fear for my child’s fragile life, and fear of the storm Damien had promised once this was over. Minutes stretched like hours before the door opened again. A nurse entered, her expression tight with urgency. "We need to prepare him for the procedure. Both the donor and the child will be taken to surgery."

Donor.

The word echoed in my head like a drumbeat. Damien returned soon after, already in the sterile gown they had given him. His expression was unreadable, carved from stone, but his eyes betrayed the truth—they were fixed on our son, unwilling to look anywhere else.

When the medical team began moving the boy onto a gurney, I gripped the rails, my chest aching. "Be careful with him," I whispered, though my voice broke. "Please... he’s all I have." For the first time, Damien’s gaze flicked to me. The look in his eyes wasn’t soft, but it wasn’t cruel either. It was... sharp, heavy, filled with emotions I couldn’t untangle. He said nothing, only walked beside the gurney, his hand resting on our son’s arm until they wheeled him into the surgical wing.

I wasn’t allowed inside. I was left outside the doors, clutching the fabric of my dress as if it could anchor me to the earth. Every second gnawed at my nerves, every muffled sound beyond the sterile walls made me flinch. I pressed my palms together, whispering prayers I hadn’t said in years. Please... don’t take him from me. Not now. Not like this.

Through the small glass window, I caught glimpses of what was happening inside. Damien was lying on one table, my son on the other. Tubes, monitors, doctors, and healers moving swiftly. Damien looked terrifyingly calm, his chest broad, his face set like he would rip the world apart if anything went wrong.

The minutes dragged on. At one point, I swore my vision blurred from holding my breath too long. Then finally, the doors opened. The surgeon pulled down his mask, his face weary but calm. "The transplant was successful. He’ll need time to recover, but your boy is strong. And Alpha Damien’s marrow was a perfect match."

through me in a violent rush,

I saw Damien being wheeled out, pale but awake, his piercing eyes already on me. They weren’t softened by the weakness of the operation. No, they burned with anger for me. They wheeled him into the recovery room, his skin pale from the procedure but his dominating presence still filling the air. My breath hitched when, instead of collapsing into the bed as anyone else would, Damien swung his legs over the side and sat upright, defying weakness itself. The strength of his

together, as if she was weighing whether to

rose, intending to follow, but Damien’s voice stopped me

"Stay."

leaving no room for refusal. My body obeyed before my mind could resist. My fingers curled nervously into the fabric of my skirt as I stood frozen in place, my heart pounding so hard I feared he could hear

the room thickened, each sound of fabric shifting scraping against my nerves. My eyes darted away, but I still felt every movement, every flex of muscle as he dressed with the ease of a man utterly in control—even after

in his eyes hit me like a physical blow, twisting my chest until I could barely

I whispered, but the word cracked before it

His brow furrowed as he studied me. "So now you’re scared of me?" he asked, sounding like he

looked away, not able to meet his eyes. "I’m not... scared," I managed, though my voice betrayed me. It trembled like a fragile thread

"You should be," he murmured, not in threat, but in a dark, restrained truth. His hand lifted—and for a moment, I thought he might touch me—but instead he dragged it through his hair, his jaw

spoken. His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, but his eyes... they