Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 415: Pained

Olivia’s POV

I teleported back into my room, my whole body heavy with anger and pain. It was one thing for others to misunderstand me, but for my own mates to think the same? That hurt deeper than anything.

I scoffed bitterly and slumped onto my bed, my silver purse slipping from my fingers to the floor. "Dicks," I spat, the word tasting sour on my tongue. My frown deepened as my chest rose and fell in sharp breaths.

I curled my knees up, hugging them close, but my wolf wouldn’t stay calm. She paced inside me, restless, growling at everything—at Selene’s smug face, at Frederick’s rage, at the triplets’ accusations.

"They should know me better," I whispered into the empty room. "They’re supposed to know me."

My throat tightened, and I pressed my forehead against my knees, fighting the heat behind my eyes. I hated how alone I felt, hated how even the bond that was supposed to protect me made me feel judged instead.

A broken laugh slipped from me. "Jealous? Me? Of her?" My fists clenched the bedsheets. "They’re blind. All of them."

I sat there, fists still clenched in the sheets, when the door creaked open.

"Olivia?" My mother’s voice slipped inside.

My wolf stiffened instantly, ears flat, and I didn’t even lift my head. "What do you want?" I muttered, my tone sharp and filled with irritation.

She stepped in a little farther, her eyes searching my face. "What’s wrong with you? I could feel your emotions from downstairs."

That was it. That was enough to snap the little control I had left.

I glared at her. "Don’t pretend to

give her the chance. My body burned with frustration, with hurt, and before she could say another

me shifted, and when I blinked, I was

was in Alpha Damien’s

down, lifting her son into her arms. The little boy giggled, tugging at her

ache in my chest grow sharper. She looked happy—happy in

know whether I wanted

my presence and her eyes widened. "Olivia... you are here." I nodded, forcing a fake smile, but the look on

she asked as she passed her son gently into the arms of the nanny standing

shaky laugh slipping past my lips. "I need a glass of whiskey

rose, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she gave a

a shelf, poured

throat. My wolf paced inside me, restless, but the whiskey dulled her growl just a

me, folding her hands on her lap, her worried eyes fixed on me.

And I did.

he held Selene like she was the one he wanted to protect. Then the triplets—how they looked at me

stop. "They don’t trust me,"

glass shook in my hand, but I forced myself to take another

placed a hand on my shoulder. "I know

brow furrowed.

To be called jealous when you’re just... scared. To have people twist your pain into something ugly you never meant. To carry the weight of