Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 395: The Act

Chapter 395: The Act

Olivia’s POV

The car ride was quiet, Frederick sitting beside me with a strange calm that unsettled me more than his rage ever did. When we arrived at the estate, music and laughter spilled into the night. The birthday celebration was in full swing—nobles mingling in fine silks and jewels.

The moment we stepped into view, all heads turned. Whispers rippled through the crowd. Frederick’s hand brushed my back, possessive, guiding me forward. "Walk with me," he said smoothly, his pride radiating like fire. "Let them see you."

I gritted my teeth, forcing a soft smile onto my lips. My wolf snarled at his touch, but I composed myself, forcing out a smile.

As we moved through the hall, I caught sight of Selene. She was across the room, dressed elegantly, her posture poised. She held a glass of wine in her hand, laughing softly with the birthday celebrant—a noblewoman she clearly knew well. But her eyes weren’t truly on the party. They flicked, just once, toward me. Toward us.

The bond between my mates and me buzzed faintly in my chest. I knew they were watching, waiting, trusting this plan to unfold.

Frederick didn’t notice her at first. But fate—or maybe Selene’s subtle game—ensured their paths crossed. She brushed past him with a polite bow, her hybrid scent faint but distinct. Frederick’s head snapped toward her instantly.

I felt it. His desire. His hunger.

Selene dipped her head again, murmuring a greeting, before slipping away like it was nothing. But Frederick’s eyes followed her retreating figure, lingering, calculating.

I swallowed, my stomach twisting.

It had begun.

The trap was working.

"You like her."

was fixed on Frederick,

his head.

hissed, pretending to be jealous. "You’ve been staring at her since she

and amusement. "Her

shot back, my jaw tight. "But I’m the special one, aren’t I? Or

his eyes. He leaned a little

to think I would ever be jealous

be annoyed. "The triplets would never look at another woman. Not the way

pride clearly pricked by the comparison. But before he could reply, the music shifted, and

a slow smile curving his lips.

"Dance with me."

wanted to refuse. To spit in his face. But I forced my wolf down, plastered on a smile, and slid my hand

playing her part, then

me into his arms, guiding me onto the floor under a thousand watching eyes, I realized something terrifying—his smile wasn’t cruel this time. It was genuine, like

guided me across the polished floor. For once, his movements weren’t harsh or demanding—they were smooth, steady, almost tender. His gaze never wavered from my face, and that smile... gods, it was still

beautiful tonight," he murmured, his voice low enough that only I could

a polite smile, keeping my wolf pressed down. "You say that

so slightly on mine. "No. I say it because it’s true. You

chest tightened, but I kept my expression cool. "You’re imagining

I look at you now, I don’t see the woman who spits

he pulled me closer, spinning me into a graceful turn before I could answer. His breath brushed my ear as he whispered, "Do you know what I envy most about them? Not their power. Not their pack. It’s the fact that when they reach for you, you

the dangerous intimacy of his words. But beneath it, my mind screamed a reminder—this was the game. Keep him hooked. Act along. Still, the sincerity in his voice unsettled me more than

like you, Olivia..." he whispered, sounding