Fated To Not Just One, But Three-Chapter 85: Slapped Me

Chapter 85: Slapped Me

Louis' POV

Lennox gently laid Anita down on her bed, and I stepped in to tuck the blanket around her. She sighed, her eyes fluttering shut, her breathing uneven and shallow. I reached out to touch her forehead—and cursed under my breath.

She was burning up.

"We should call the healer," I told my brothers.

"No… don't… I'm fine… it's normal for me to feel this way," Anita said weakly, her eyes still closed.

I exchanged a silent look with my brothers. None of us said a word. We just stood there, watching her.

"It's my turn to look after her… you two need to go out there and find out who that bastard is," Lennox said through gritted teeth.

"I'll question the men who were on duty," Levi offered.

Lennox nodded. "Good. And we need to set a trap. If he comes back, we take him down—"

"Can you three just stop it already?" Anita's voice sliced through the air, stronger than it had been just moments ago.

We froze.

"I'm lying here, burning alive, and all you care about is Olivia and who her mysterious lover might be?"

Anita's sudden outburst caught us all off guard. Her eyes had snapped open, fiery despite the dark circles beneath them, her voice no longer weak and breathy but laced with fury and frustration. Lennox immediately stepped back from the bed, his jaw clenching. Levi blinked in surprise, and I… I just stared at her.

"I'm right here, burning up, feeling like my insides are being set on fire, and you three are busy planning ambushes and interrogations over Olivia's drama?" she hissed, pushing the blanket off her like it was suffocating her.

"Anita—" Lennox began, his tone defensive.

"No! Don't 'Anita' me." She sat up, swaying slightly, but the stubborn fire in her eyes didn't waver. "You all barged in here like you cared, but clearly, I'm just an afterthought. I could drop dead, and you'd be halfway through hunting down Olivia's imaginary lover before someone remembered to bury me!"

Levi shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not like that…" ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

"It's exactly like that," she snapped. "Ever since you three found out she is your mate, it's always been Olivia this, Olivia that. Meanwhile, I'm here—I'm still here—hurting, burning, breaking… and no one sees it."

Silence settled thick in the room. Lennox looked like he wanted to argue, but even he knew she had a point. Ever since Olivia became our mate, everything has been about her like it was before. But Anita can't blame us… we once loved that girl with everything in us.

I stepped closer, lowering myself to the edge of her bed. "You're right," I said quietly. "And I'm sorry."

Anita frowned and looked away. "You three can leave. I can take care of myself—" Anita began, but I cut her off gently.

"No. Let us take care of you for once."

Anita blinked rapidly, and I could see the tears building in her eyes despite her best effort to fight them.

"I wonder what is so special about her," she murmured as she lay back on the bed and pulled the blanket over herself.

She was wrong.

She couldn't see it—but Olivia was special in more ways than she'd ever know.

She used to bake us those terrible, burnt cookies when we trained late into the night. We'd eat them anyway, pretending they were delicious—just to see her smile.

The night I had my first severe allergic reaction, she stayed by my side, crying, praying in that tiny, broken voice of hers. I heard her, even when I was unconscious. She begged the illness to leave me and come to her instead.

She made us laugh. God, she made us laugh—back when laughing was easy.

She's kind. Thoughtful in quiet ways. The type to remember someone's favorite meal, the way they take their tea, or the song they hum when they're nervous or happy.

She never asked for attention. She just… gave love without needing anything in return.

She was warmth. She was home.

Even after everything—after the years, the distance, the hate—just hearing her name brought something alive in me.

Anita couldn't see it.

But the truth is…

I never really stopped loving Olivia.

Maybe my brothers did, but I never did.

"I'm leaving," I said, and before they could respond, I walked out.

I needed to breathe, to move, to think, so I found myself walking toward the training grounds. The familiar thudding of fists against punching bags, the clang of metal, and the sharp whistles of commands helped clear my head—until I saw her.

There she was.

Olivia.

Standing near the edge of the combat field, her blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun, eyes lit up with laughter. She was laughing—really laughing—with Maddison, the head of our warriors. His massive frame loomed beside her as he chuckled, clearly amused by something she had just said.

Then she touched his arm.

Just a touch—but it felt like betrayal.

My hands clenched into fists.

What the hell?

Maddison? He had a mate. A mate who adored him. But the way he was looking at Olivia now… like he'd do anything to make her laugh again… it twisted something in my gut.

Jealousy.

Sharp, ugly, and completely consuming.

What if he was the secret lover? The one who'd been sending gifts?

I didn't think. I just moved.

In a blink, I was there—cutting between them.

"What's so funny?" I demanded.

Olivia's laughter died instantly. Her smile faded. "Louis—"

"No, seriously." I turned to Maddison. "You got something hilarious to share with the rest of us? Or is this some private joke between lovers?"

Maddison looked confused, and he took a step backward. "Alpha, I don't understand what you are saying?"

But I wasn't even looking at him anymore. My eyes were locked on Olivia's. "It's been years since you laughed like that… with me."

The air shifted. Warriors training nearby stopped and turned, drawn to the growing tension.

Olivia's eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat. "How can you accuse Maddison of such an act, Louis?" she said, voice trembling with controlled rage.

"Oh, I can do more," I snarled. "Tell me—is he the one? Your lover? Are you fucking him? You whore!"

Her hand flew faster than I expected.

SLAP.

It echoed across the field, and for a moment, everything stopped.

Even my heartbeat.

Pain flared across my cheek, but the pain in her eyes burned more than her slap did.

She looked at her hand like it betrayed her—then looked at me like I did.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to—"

But she didn't finish.

Olivia turned and ran—away from the field, from Maddison, from me. The crowd of warriors stood in stunned silence, watching her disappear.

I stood there, my cheek stinging, my pride shattered, my heart breaking all over again. I wasn't angry that she slapped me. I was angry that in a bit of jealousy, I called her a whore loud enough for the warriors to hear.

I turned on the gathered warriors, rage boiling in my chest.

"What are you all staring at?" I snapped. "Get back to training before I take someone's head off."

Then I turned and stormed off the combat field.