Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 429

Chapter 429: Poisoned Blood

Selene’s POV

I stepped closer to his desk, placing the steaming cup in front of him. "I thought..." I paused, forcing my voice out. "I thought maybe you could use this. You’ve been under a lot of stress."

His eyes narrowed sharply, flicking from the cup to me. A frown pulled at his mouth. "What is wrong with you?" he demanded. "One moment you push me away, swear you don’t want me, and the next you’re offering me coffee like some doting lover. Which is it, Selene?"

My throat tightened. I looked away, biting back the storm of words clawing at me. "Nothing," I whispered finally, my hands curling against my sides.

He studied me for another long moment, suspicion etched across his face. Then, with a sharp inhale, he lifted the cup and took a slow sip.

"That boy," Frederick said suddenly, setting the cup down. His voice had lost its sharpness, replaced by something heavier. "He is my son."

My eyes widened, though I stayed silent.

"His human mother died while giving birth to him," he continued, his gaze fixed on the dark liquid in the cup. "He’s more vampire than hybrid, which makes him... dangerous. Unstable. I keep him hidden because he doesn’t know how to control his thirst."

I swallowed, my heart thudding as I nodded slowly and pulled the nearest chair. I sank into it, studying him, trying to read the unreadable.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence between us was not like before—it was thick, full of unsaid things, the mate bond thrumming in the air.

Finally, I rose. The pull inside me dragged me closer until I stood behind him. My eyes traced the tense lines of his shoulders, the way the weight of the world seemed to press on him even when he sat still.

"You look stressed," I murmured softly, surprising even myself.

His muscles were stone beneath my palms, hard and stiff. I pressed carefully, kneading the tension with my

breath. His


low, rough moan that slipped

voice low and

the truth. His

This was the mate bond pulling strings, tightening the knot between us. He didn’t know, and I would never

rasped, his voice trembling in a way I had never heard

hammered. I knew what it was. The bond. The curse of it. But

I could pull away, his hand shot up, catching mine. In one swift motion, he dragged me forward, pulling me into his lap. My breath

so beautiful," he whispered, the words heavy, almost reverent. His thumb brushed my cheek,

skin. My wolf

almost teasing, but rough with desire. "Tell me... are you sore? From last

couldn’t answer. My lips parted, but no

tugged at his mouth. "There’s only one way to find

the hem of my skirt, sliding it upward inch by inch. My heart raced, my breath caught. The air thickened,


knife stabbing

My mother.

Her death.

My revenge.

in my veins turned

let my wolf rise. My blood shifted, dark and toxic, poison threading

didn’t notice. His breath was heavy,

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