Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 445

Chapter 445: The Ritual

Olivia’s POV

It had been more than thirty minutes since the masked man left, and the silence in the room had grown so heavy it felt suffocating — thick enough to choke on. Selene sat a few feet away, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, her gaze fixed on the floor. Every so often, she’d glance at me, and I’d glance back, but neither of us spoke. There was nothing left to say that wouldn’t sound hollow or useless.

I was lost in my thoughts.

In my guilt.

The triplets... I could almost picture their faces when they found out what I had done — the hurt, the anger, the disbelief. I’d gone behind their backs again, made another reckless choice, and this time, I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.

My fingers brushed over the fabric of my pants, feeling for the small knife still tucked beneath it. That was my only backup plan — a thin, cold piece of metal.

Pathetic.

I sighed quietly and looked toward the locked steel door.

Where are they now?

Were they already on their way here?

Did Frederick tell them what happened?

The thought of it made my stomach twist. I was worried not just for myself but for their safety. The collar around my neck buzzed faintly again, sending a cold shiver down my spine. My wolf whimpered weakly, trapped and helpless.

I pressed my palms to my knees and whispered under my breath, "Please, let them find me before it’s too late..."

Selene looked up, her face tired but curious. "You still think they’ll come?" she asked softly.

I met her eyes. "They will," I said, though my voice shook. "They always do."

But deep down, a small, frightened part of me wondered, what if this time, they can’t?

A moment of suffocating silence hung in the air until Selene suddenly spoke.

"You know..." she said, staring at the wall, "I used to hate you."

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

She turned her head slowly, her tired eyes locking onto mine. "I hated you before I even met you. Everyone spoke about you—the miracle, the chosen one, the girl born with power in her blood." She let out a dry laugh. "Do you know how that feels? To grow up hearing about someone who has the life you were supposed to have?"

Her words stung, but I didn’t interrupt.

She continued, her tone bitter but trembling. "We’re both descendants of Hailee. Same bloodline. But you... you’re the one with the gift. The one the Moon seemed to favor. And me?" Her voice cracked slightly. "I got nothing. Just the shadow of a name."

I stared at her—really stared. For the first time, I didn’t see the cold, proud woman Frederick had tried so hard to protect. I saw someone who was tired. Jealous. Hurt.

I swallowed, my throat tight. "I didn’t ask for any of it," I said softly. "You think it’s easy being special? Every time something goes wrong, it’s me they come for. Me they blame. Me they want dead."

Her gaze flickered, but she didn’t speak.

I looked down at my hands, whispering, "If I could, I’d give it up. I’d love to just be Olivia Parker—daughter of a former Gamma. A normal werewolf who didn’t have to heal people or fight curses." I gave a weak laugh. "If I were normal, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now."

We were led through several turns until the corridor opened into a larger chamber. My breath caught as I saw what waited inside.

The masked man sat on a chair at the far end of the room, calm as ever. Beside him stood an old woman cloaked in black. Her skin was grayish and wrinkled, her eyes cloudy yet sharp—a witch, no doubt. The air around her felt heavy, thick with energy that made the hairs on my neck rise.

And on the floor, lying motionless on a small cot, was a little boy. He couldn’t have been more than four. His skin was pale, his chest barely moving.

The masked man turned slightly toward us as the guards shoved us forward. His voice was smooth, almost kind. "You’re just in time," he said. "He’s fading faster than I expected."

My eyes went to the boy. His tiny hand hung limp over the edge of the cot. Something inside me twisted painfully. Whatever this curse was, it was eating him alive.

The witch stepped closer, her bony fingers twitching as she looked at me. "She has the blood," she rasped. "The power will transfer cleanly."

"Good," the masked man said simply. Then his gaze shifted to me. "We should start immediately before her mates find our hideout."

I froze. My throat tightened. He knew the triplets were coming for me.

Selene stepped forward, rage blazing in her tired eyes. "You monster," she hissed. "You’d sacrifice her just to save—"

The man raised a hand, silencing her instantly. "You will speak only when spoken to," he said coldly. "Your turn will come soon enough."

The witch’s eyes glowed faintly red. "Prepare the circle," she croaked. "The ritual must begin immediately."

The guards released us, pushing us toward the center of the room where strange symbols were drawn across the floor—glowing faintly in a color I couldn’t name.

My pulse raced. I looked at Selene, and she looked at me. For a brief second, the fragile peace between us earlier turned into silent understanding. We both knew this was life or death.