Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 216

Chapter 216: Nightmare

Lennox’s POV

"No!" I yelled, jerking up from my sleep. My chest rose and fell in rapid bursts as I fumbled for the light on the nightstand and switched it on. Sweat clung to my forehead, my hands trembling.

My heart wouldn’t stop pounding. The images from the dream wouldn’t leave my head.

Olivia beheaded. Her blood everywhere. Her lifeless, headless body lying in a pool of her own blood. It felt so real, too real. Even now, I could still feel the cold shiver crawling down my spine.

I shut my eyes tightly and tried to mind-link. I reached for her in the only way I thought I still could.

"Olivia..."

But nothing came.

It was blank. Empty. Silent.

As if... she had blocked me.

I clenched my jaw. Maybe she didn’t want us to reach her anymore.

Still shaking, I picked up my phone and dialed her number. It rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then it ended.

Not even voicemail.

Instead, a message popped up on my screen.

"What do you want at this time of the night?"

I stared at it.

My chest tightened.

I quickly typed back:

"Please pick up my call. Just for a second."

Her reply came in seconds:

"No. I don’t want anything to do with you or your brothers."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My fingers moved quickly as I typed:

"Olivia, please... just be careful. I had a dream about you. Something was wrong—really wrong."

But instead of concern, her response hit me like a slap:

"If this is one of your tricks to make me scared, it’s not going to work. I’m fine. I’m happy here with Gabriel, and maybe I’ll start a new life with him. So leave me alone. I’m blocking your number."

And just like that... she did.

The screen went silent. My messages stopped delivering.

Blocked.

I stared at the last message, my chest aching like someone was tightening a rope around it. I wanted to throw the phone. Scream. Go find her.

But I had to respect her decision.

But something... something in her messages didn’t feel right.

Sure, she was angry.

Sure, she hated us right now.

But Olivia—my Olivia—even when she was upset, her words always had warmth... or at least pain.

These texts?

They felt cold. Robotic.

I’d known her since she was seven. We’d been through so much together—fought, laughed, cried. I could tell when her words were really hers.

And these?

They didn’t feel like her.

Still... I shook my head.

Maybe I’m overthinking. Maybe she really does want to move on...

I forced myself to lie back down, but my chest kept tightening with every second that passed.

Something wasn’t right.

And deep down, I knew—

That dream wasn’t just a nightmare.

It was a warning.

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