Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 230

Chapter 230: Back Home

Olivia’s POV

There was a tense silence inside the private jet. The hum of the engine filled the cabin, but my mind was louder, racing with fear, doubt, and a hundred unanswered questions.

I was going back.

Back to the Full Moon Pack.

Back to the triplets.

It had only been a week... just a week since I last saw them. But with everything that had happened, it felt like years.

So much had changed.

I sat stiffly in my seat, hands curled tightly in my lap, eyes glued to the clouds outside the window. My heart thudded against my ribs like it wanted out. I didn’t know what I would find when I got there.

Would they recognize me?

Should I even tell them?

Should I expose everything—tell them the truth?

That I was alive. That this face wasn’t mine. That I was wearing someone else’s identity. That Alpha Damien had faked my death and trapped me in a life I never chose.

My fingers trembled.

Maybe... maybe they could help me.

Maybe—

"Olivia," Damien’s voice sliced through my thoughts like a blade.

I turned slowly, my heart skipping.

He was seated beside me, calm as ever, sipping from a glass of wine like the world was under his control... perhaps not the world, but I was under his control.

"I want to show you something," he said smoothly, placing his glass on the table and reaching into his pocket.

I watched warily as he pulled out a small, sleek remote.

"What—"

Suddenly, pain.

A sharp, violent jolt tore through my body.

I couldn’t even scream.

My lungs seized up. My vision blurred. My entire chest felt like it was being crushed from the inside out.

The pain was electric—burning, choking, stabbing—and then...

It stopped.

It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like I was dying.

When it finally stopped, I slumped against the seat, trembling. My eyes burned with tears as I tried to pull in a shaky breath.

My hands flew to my wrist, where the gold bracelet sat—innocent-looking and beautiful... but deadly.

Damien leaned closer, his voice low but threatening. "I can kill you in less than a minute with that."

My whole body shook. I stared at him, wide-eyed, my chest heaving.

He continued, his voice calm but sharp with warning. "Don’t get any ideas, Olivia. You and I had a deal. One year. You keep your mouth shut. You play the perfect little Luna wife. You do what I say."

He leaned back, watching me like a snake waiting to strike.

"If you betray me..." he tapped the remote gently, "you die."

My throat closed up. I nodded slowly, forcing myself to breathe through the terror.

He smiled, satisfied. "Good girl."

And just like that, he picked up his wine again, as if nothing had happened.

I looked away, my heart panting... now I realized the bracelet wrapped around my wrist wasn’t just to subdue my wolf or hide my scent—it was connected to my heart... Alpha Damien could actually kill me with it.

What have I gotten myself into?

The jet began to descend. Outside, the land below stretched like a map I once knew by heart. I swallowed hard as the seatbelt light blinked on.

We were here.

The Full Moon Pack.

The place I once called home.

When the jet came to a soft landing, a black SUV was already waiting at the end of the private airstrip. Damien stood and adjusted the cuff of his shirt like this was just another routine meeting. He motioned toward the open door.

"Let’s go."

I stepped down the stairs slowly, the heat of the afternoon sun instantly hitting me. The air here felt... heavier.

Familiar.

Painfully familiar.

The driver opened the car door, and we slid into the back seat. Damien remained composed beside me, scrolling through his phone as if nothing had happened back on the plane. As if he hadn’t just nearly killed me minutes ago.

The engine rumbled to life and the SUV began to roll down the familiar dirt path leading into the Full Moon territory.

The roads hadn’t changed.

Tall trees framed both sides. The grass danced lazily under the sunlight. I caught glimpses of the training grounds far in the distance and the old watchtower that once stood as our childhood adventure spot.

Everything looked the same.

And yet... nothing felt the same.

As we approached the heart of the pack—the grand pack house—I saw the flags flying at half-mast. A sign of mourning.

They still believed I was dead.

My chest tightened.

The car passed the gates, driving into the wide-open courtyard. Several guards bowed as we drove past, their faces grim.

We finally pulled up before the pack house entrance. freewёbnoνel.com

Home.

But not really.

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