Fated To Not Just One But Three Chapter 19

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Chapter 19 suicide?

Lennox’s POV

I buried myself in work, hoping it would help me stop thinking about Olivia—and the mistake I had made. I signed documents, responded to calls, and drowned in endless paperwork. Even Clark, my Beta, had urged me to take a break for lunch or dinner, but I refused. I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to think.

 

The door to my study swung open, and Clark stepped in.

 

“Your brothers and parents are at the table having dinner, and your father specifically asked me to call you,” he said.

 

I growled, shutting the document in front of me. I wasn’t hungry. In fact, I had no appetite. My mood was already ruined for the day, and I wasn’t in the mood to sit at that damn table pretending everything was fine.

 

Clark narrowed his eyes at me. “Is this because of what happened this morning at the table? You still feel terrible for hitting her?”

 

I shot him a glare. “Why should I?” I snapped.

 

Clark shrugged. “Well, if that’s the case, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ would get you out of this mess.”

 

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving his words lingering in my mind.

 

I clenched my jaw, my glare fixed on the door. An apology? From me?

 

She hadn’t even apologized for what she did to me, for the pain she caused me all these years. And Clark thought I should be the one to apologize?

 

No. I won’t do that.

 

I sighed, running a hand down my face, and tried to focus on my work again. But no matter how hard I tried, my mind refused to cooperate.

 

Eventually, I decided to just respect my father’s request and go to the dining hall.

 

But when I reached the table, Olivia wasn’t there. Father, Mother, Levi, and Louis were present, but Olivia wasn’t.

 

I frowned. “Where is she?” I asked one of the maids.

 

The maid hesitated before answering. “We knocked, Alpha, but she didn’t let us in… so we left.”

 

I groaned, pushing my chair back. Stubborn woman.

 

Without another word, I turned and headed for her room. When I reached her door, I knocked once. No response. I knocked again. Still nothing.

 

My frown deepened. Was she ignoring me?

 

I reached for the handle and pushed the door open. The sight before me made my heart skip a beat.

 

She was asleep.

 

For a moment, I just stood there, my gaze softening as I watched her. Beautiful. Even now, even after everything, she still had this effect on me.

 

But something was wrong.

 

The closer I stepped, the clearer it became.

 

Her breathing was too shallow. Her face was too pale. And when I reached out and touched her forehead—she was burning up.

 

“Olivia,” I called her name, but she didn’t stir.

 

Panic gripped me.

 

“Olivia!”

 

I shook her gently, but she remained still. My chest tightened, a strange fear clawing at me.

 

“Guards!” I yelled, my voice echoing around the walls.

 

The door burst open. Levi and Louis rushed in. So did my parents, Clark, and the guards.

 

“What is happening?” Levi asked as he touched Olivia’s forehead.

 

“Get the healer,” I snapped at a guard.

 

Turning around, I looked at Olivia, only to realize her breathing was becoming too shallow. My breath hitched, my wolf howled in discomfort, and I lifted her up, placing her head on my lap as I sat on the bed.

 

Louis, who seemed as panicked as I was, touched her neck, and his worry increased. “This is not a fever, Lennox. Something is wrong,” he said, his worry so obvious in his voice.

 

The door pushed open, and Olivia’s mother rushed in, her eyes filled with worry the moment she saw Olivia in my arms.

 

“What happened to her?” she demanded, her voice shaking as she knelt beside the bed, her hands trembling as she reached for Olivia’s face.

 

“She won’t wake up,” I said, my voice filled with fear. The weight of my own fear was pressing down on me, making it hard to think clearly.

 

Louis looked at our mother, his eyes filled with worry. “It’s not just a fever. Something is wrong.”

 

Mother’s face paled as she pressed her palm to Olivia’s chest, feeling for something—something we couldn’t see. Her lips parted slightly, her eyes widening in realization.

 

“No…” she whispered, almost in disbelief.

 

“What is it?” I demanded. “What’s wrong with her?”

 

Before she could answer, the healer arrived, rushing into the room with his assistant. He carried a small bag of herbs and potions, but the moment he saw Olivia, his brows furrowed.

 

“Lay her down,” he instructed.

 

I hesitated before gently placing Olivia back onto the bed. Her skin was clammy now, her breathing even more labored.

 

The healer wasted no time, checking her pulse, her temperature, and then finally pressing two fingers against the side of her neck. His frown deepened.

 

“This isn’t a normal illness,” he muttered.

 

I clenched my fists. “Then what is it?”

 

The healer exhaled sharply. “It’s poison.”

 

The room fell silent.

 

Poison?

 

My blood ran cold. My brothers tensed beside me, their faces mirroring my shock.

 

Mother’s hands trembled as she covered her mouth, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “No… who would do this?”

 

I didn’t need to ask that question. Rage surged through me like wildfire. Someone had dared to harm Olivia. My mate.

 

I turned to the healer. “Can you save her?”

 

He hesitated, glancing at Olivia’s pale face. “I need to know what kind of poison this is before I can give her the right antidote. If we don’t find out soon…” He trailed off, not needing to finish.

 

I grabbed the front of his robe. “You will find out.”

 

The healer nodded quickly, then turned to his assistant. “Prepare the cleansing ritual. We’ll try to slow the poison’s spread while we figure out the antidote.”

 

The healer and his assistant wasted no time in preparing for the cleansing ritual. They spread a thick herbal paste along Olivia’s arms and neck, the scent of crushed roots and bitter herbs filling the air. The healer murmured incantations under his breath, his fingers pressing against Olivia’s temples as his assistant placed a series of small candles around the bed.

 

Louis and Levi stood on either side of me, their eyes locked onto Olivia, their worry mirroring mine. Olivia’s mother sat beside her, gripping her hand tightly.

 

The healer took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “I’ll begin the energy purification process. This should slow the poison’s effect while we analyze what’s in her system.”

 

He placed his hands above Olivia’s chest, his palms glowing faintly as he focused his energy. A soft hum vibrated through the air, the candles flickering wildly as the magic worked its way through her body.

 

Minutes passed.

 

Then, suddenly, Olivia gasped. Her body arched slightly before falling limp again. The healer pulled his hands away, sweat beading on his forehead.

 

The poison is still in her system, but I have a better understanding of what we’re dealing with,” he said, his voice grave.

 

I stepped forward, my heart pounding. “What is it?”

 

The healer wiped his forehead, glancing at his assistant, who handed him an aged, leather-bound book. He flipped through the pages before stopping at a section filled with strange symbols and an illustration of a pale, delicate flower.

 

“This is a rare sleeping poison,” he explained. “It’s derived from a plant known as the Moonshade Blossom—a flower often used for peaceful suicides.”

 

A heavy silence fell over the room.

 

Olivia’s mother gasped, covering her mouth, her eyes welling with tears. Levi, Louis and I exchanged dark glances, our wolves howling in unison.

 

I stared at the healer, my mind refusing to accept what he was implying. “Suicide?” I repeated, my voice hoarse. “You’re saying Olivia did this to herself?”

 

The healer hesitated before nodding. “The Moonshade Blossom is not a poison commonly used for murder. It’s gentle. Painless. The liquid is typically diluted in water or juice. The person drinks it, lies down, and drifts into an endless sleep.” He looked at Olivia’s still form. “That’s exactly what she did.”

 

I took a step back, my stomach twisting painfully. No.

 

Olivia wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t—she wasn’t weak. She was stubborn, fiery, infuriating—but she wouldn’t…

 

Would she?

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