Fated To Not Just One, But Three-Chapter 648: Something odd

Olivia’s POV

​The next morning, I stood in the living room feeling uneasy. Lennox was bringing his mate home just after he had met her yesterday.

​The front doors swung open, and I froze. I expected to see a woman on a stretcher—someone pale and sick, someone who looked like she was actually the cause of Lennox’s sudden agony.

​But when Lennox walked in, he was supporting a woman who looked radiantly healthy. She was beautiful, with glowing skin and bright-green eyes that didn’t look like they had ever seen the inside of a hospital wing. She leaned into him, her hand tucked firmly into the crook of his arm, and Lennox was looking at her with a focus that made my stomach turn into knots.

​"Lennox?" I whispered, my voice sounding small in the vast foyer.

​Before he could answer, a team of medical orderlies followed them in, pushing heavy, high-tech machines and rolling IV poles. It looked like they were moving an entire intensive care unit into our home.

​"What is going on?" I asked, my voice rising with a mix of confusion and mounting dread. "You said she was sick, but she... she looks fine. Why is all this equipment being brought into the house?"

​Lennox stopped, his expression blank. He didn’t even look at me; he kept his eyes on the woman. "She has a condition that flares up internally, Olivia. Just because she looks healthy doesn’t mean she isn’t dying inside."

​He tightened his grip on her waist. "She will be receiving her treatments in my room. From now on, that wing is off-limits to everyone except the medical staff and my brothers. I need to focus on her."

​Without another word, he guided her toward the stairs. I watched them go—the man I loved, the father of my children, walking away with a stranger to the bedroom we used to share.

​I felt a hand on each of my shoulders. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Louis and Levi.

​"Olivia," Louis said softly, his voice trembling with a forced calm. "Let’s leave. Just for a while. Let’s take the boys on a trip. We can go to the cabin by the lake, or even out of the country. Just us. We’ll have fun, and the kids won’t have to see... any of this."

​"Yeah," Levi added, his grip on my shoulder tightening as if he were trying to hold me together. "It’ll be good for you. For all of us. Let’s pack the bags now and be gone by sunset."

​I looked at them, then back at the stairs where the last of the medical monitors was being wheeled out of sight. I knew what they were doing. They were trying to shield me. They wanted to hide the betrayal behind a curtain of vacations and distractions so I wouldn’t have to hear the sounds of him tending to another woman in the next room.

​I pulled away from them, wiping the tears from my cheeks with a sudden, fierce resolve.

​"No," I said, my voice cold and firm.

​"Olivia, please—" Louis started.

​"I said no," I snapped, turning to face them. "I know you’re trying to protect me, and I know you want me to look away, but I’m not going anywhere. This is my home."

​I looked up at the stairs.

​"If he wants to bring another woman into this house and treat her like a queen while I’m still standing, then he’s going to have to look me in the eye every single day and see exactly what he’s throwing away. I’m not running, and I’m not hiding. I’m staying right here."

​Hours later, I couldn’t sit in the living room and pretend this was normal. Every time the heavy thud of a medical machine moved across the ceiling above me, it felt like a hammer hitting my chest. I waited until I saw Louis and Levi go toward the kitchen, then I slipped up the stairs.

​I didn’t knock. I couldn’t. This was my room too—or it had been until yesterday.

​I pushed the heavy oak doors open and froze. The scene was chaotic. The beautiful woman was sitting in a chair by the window, idly scrolling through her phone, looking perfectly fine. But Lennox—he was slumped on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. His skin wasn’t just pale; it was gray. Sweat soaked through his shirt, and his breathing was shallow—a terrifying rattling sound coming from his chest.

​"Lennox?" I gasped, rushing forward.

​He flinched, his head snapping up. His eyes were bloodshot, the dark circles under them looking like bruises. "Olivia? What are you doing here?" he rasped, his voice barely a ghost of itself. "I told you... you should knock. This wing is restricted."

​"Lennox, you look like death," I whispered, reaching out to touch his forehead, but he flinched away from my hand. "Why do you look so pale? You look worse than she does! Why aren’t the machines on her?"

​I glanced at his so-called mate. She looked up from her phone, her green eyes bright and alert. There wasn’t a bead of sweat on her. She didn’t look like she was in pain. She didn’t look like she was dying.

​"I told you," Lennox said, his voice straining as he forced himself to stand, though his legs trembled violently. "Her illness... is my illness. The bond is deep. If she hurts, I hurt. It’s a soul-pull, Olivia. Get out."

​"But she’s not pale!" I shouted, pointing at the woman who was watching us with a strange, detached expression. "Why is it only hitting you this hard?"

​Martha, the healer, stepped out from behind a tall monitor, her face full of exhaustion and sorrow. She looked at me, then at Lennox, then back at me.

​"He is more like a human, Luna," Martha said softly, her voice heavy with a hidden truth. "And as he said, he has no wolf to protect him. Because he is wolf-less, the ’bond’ hits him with ten times the force. He has no supernatural defense to mask the symptoms. His body is absorbing everything."

​"Then let me help!" I cried, stepping toward them. My wolf was howling in my chest, desperate to reach him. "I still have my wolf. I can share my strength. I can heal her—or him. If the bond is the problem, let me use my energy to stabilize it!"

​I reached for Lennox’s hand, but Martha moved quickly, stepping between us and gently blocking my path.

​"I am a healer..." I started, looking at her for permission.

​Martha shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. "You can’t, Luna. Your wolf and his... they aren’t connected anymore. If you try to pour your healing magic into him now, his human body won’t be able to process it. It would be like pouring fire into a paper cup. You would only cause him more pain."

​"So I’m just supposed to watch him waste away for a stranger?" I asked, my voice cracking.

​Lennox let out a harsh, wet cough into a handkerchief. When he pulled it away, I saw the splash of red. He tucked it away quickly, but I had seen it.

​"Go, Olivia," he groaned, leaning heavily against the bedpost. "Take the boys to the garden. Don’t come back in here."

​My eyes darted around the room, the frantic energy of my wolf making every detail sharp. Something wasn’t adding up. I looked at the machines—the humming monitors, the IV stands, the oxygen concentrator.

​Then I saw it.

​The wires weren’t trailing toward the window where Elena sat. The transparent tubes and the pulse oximeter weren’t anywhere near her. They were all coiled and positioned toward the head of the bed—specifically, the left side. Lennox’s side.

​"The machines," I whispered, my heart stopping. "They aren’t hooked up to her. Lennox, why is the oxygen mask on your nightstand?"

​Lennox’s eyes widened in a flash of pure panic. He opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by a sharp, theatrical gasp from the window.

​"Oh! Oh, it hurts! Lennox!"

​The woman suddenly collapsed from her chair onto the floor. She began to writhe, her back arching as she let out a series of jagged, high-pitched whimpers. It looked like a seizure, but my wolf didn’t growl in sympathy; she growled in suspicion. There was no scent of distress in the air—no spike in pheromones that usually accompanied a shifter in pain.

​"Elena!" Lennox choked out. He lunged toward her, but his knees buckled halfway across the room. He crashed to the floor, his face contorting in genuine, agonizing sympathy.

​"See?" Martha said quickly, rushing to Lennox’s side instead of the woman’s. "The bond! She has a flare-up, and it’s hitting him. Luna, you have to leave! The stress of your presence is making the transition harder for them!"

​I stood frozen as Lennox crawled—actually crawled—toward the woman. He reached out, his hand trembling as he touched her arm. "I’m here," he rasped, his voice sounding like it was being dragged over broken glass. "I’ve got you."

​Elena grabbed his hand, her "convulsions" slowing as she buried her face in his neck. Over his shoulder, for just a split second, her eyes met mine. There were no tears. No clouded gaze of a dying woman.

​"Get out, Olivia!" Lennox roared, the effort causing him to break into another violent, wet coughing fit. He didn’t look at me. He was huddled on the floor, holding a stranger while his own life force seemed to be leaking out of his pores.

​I backed away, the bile rising in my throat. I didn’t believe in the "Third-Chance Mate." I didn’t believe in the soul-pull.

​