Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 400: Dreaming

Olivia’s POV

For a moment, I went dumbfounded. Frederick... apologizing? That was something I never saw coming. What the hell! This man kept surprising me, and I wondered what he would do next. I raised a brow slowly. "Are you apologizing?"

"Yes." He answered with a curt nod, his tone calm, almost too calm.

My frown deepened as I studied him carefully. This wasn’t what I expected. Who was this soft-spoken Frederick sitting in bed, staring at me like I mattered? Where was the cruel, carved man I knew? Where was the monster who claimed me, threatened to kill me?

"Now," his voice lowered, gentler than before, "could you please change and come to bed?... It’s late." He wasn’t ordering this time. He was pleading.

The sound of it made my chest tighten with unease. My wolf snarled inside me, unsettled. Pleading wasn’t his style. It felt wrong. Off.

I tilted my head, arms still folded. "And what if I don’t?" I asked, trying to annoy him.

His eyes held mine, calm, unblinking. "Then I’ll still be here, waiting. Because no matter how much you fight me, Olivia, I want you close. Not across the room. Not on a sofa. Beside me."

The words rattled through me and I swallowed hard, forcing my mask of irritation back into place. He was playing a game; he had to be.

But goodness — he was playing it well.

Huffing, I stood to my feet, grabbed the shirt he’d laid out for me, and stalked into the bathroom. The water was quick and cold, doing little to settle the emotions raging inside me. My wolf paced restlessly, snarling at the thought of wearing anything of his, but for the sake of the plan—I forced her quiet.

When I stepped out, the shirt clung loosely to my damp skin, its fabric carrying his faint scent. It made my stomach twist.

Frederick was still on the bed when I came out, reclining against the pillows, a wine glass resting on the nightstand. His gaze lifted instantly, sweeping over me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

murmured, his voice smooth, unreadable. "My shirt suits you much

sofa, dropping onto it with a thud. "Don’t

stop fighting me. I’m not asking you to fuck me tonight.

in a bitter smirk. "You expect me to believe that? Who knows—you might

with mine, calm but serious. "I expect you to trust that I meant what I said. I

tone unnerved me more than his threats ever had. I

shut. For a heartbeat, it almost looked like peace had

eyes, he spoke

pushed myself up from the sofa. Frederick hadn’t

glowing in the corner. Without another

closer. He only exhaled deeply, as though my presence beside him had been

into silence. My eyelids grew

overheard... a sound. A

stirred, my wolf snapping awake in my chest. My eyes fluttered open, the dim light

wasn’t awake. His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed, and his lips

imagined it. His voice cracked, low and raw, like

frozen. Even in his sleep,

if he was seeing her in his dream and conversing with her. I noticed his brow furrow as he kept speaking in a strange

couldn’t understand, but the tone was enough for me to know what was happening. Frederick was pleading. Longing. Like he was begging

listening to him pour his soul out to another woman in his dreams. I swallowed hard, not knowing

jerked. His eyes snapped open, filled with

his head sharply, his gaze colliding

stretched between us. His chest heaved, his lips parted, but no