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.

his voice smooth, unreadable. "My shirt

to the sofa, dropping onto it with a thud. "Don’t get used

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

smirk. "You expect me to believe that? Who knows—you might force

"I expect you to trust that I meant what I said. I don’t force. Not food. Not blood.

gentleness in his tone unnerved me more than his threats ever had. I looked away, feigning annoyance, but my

back, stretching out, his eyes fluttering shut. For a heartbeat, it almost looked like peace had settled over

spoke gently. "Come

a heavy sigh, I finally pushed myself up from the sofa. Frederick hadn’t moved,

switched off the bright chandelier light, leaving only the dim wall sconce glowing in the corner. Without another word, I slipped

didn’t get closer. He only exhaled deeply, as though my presence beside him had been

stretched into silence. My eyelids grew heavy,

overheard... a sound.

my wolf snapping awake in my chest. My eyes fluttered

eyes were closed, his brow furrowed, and his lips

faint I almost thought I imagined it. His voice cracked, low and raw, like

his sleep, he thought of

It was as if he was seeing her in his dream and conversing with her. I noticed his

but the tone was enough for me to know what was happening. Frederick was pleading. Longing. Like he was begging her, holding on to a ghost only he

wrong, sitting there in his bed, listening to him pour his soul out to another woman in his dreams. I swallowed hard,

snapped open, filled with something raw and

turned his head sharply, his gaze colliding with

a tense silence stretched between us. His chest heaved, his lips parted, but no words came. Whatever he’d seen, whatever he’d