Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 329

Chapter 329: My Decision

Damien’s POV

My hands trembled, not from weakness, but from the force it took to stop myself from putting a hole through the wall. I had just walked out of an operating room, given a part of myself for my son, and instead of relief, all I could taste was the bitterness of the years I’d lost. I stared at Sofia, every breath like a growl I had to choke back. She stood there, clutching herself like she could hide from the truth, from me. My wolf clawed against my skin, furious and wild.

"You don’t understand what you’ve done," I said, my voice low but vibrating with barely restrained fury. "You stole moments I can never get back. His first steps. His first words. The first time he called for his father—" My voice caught, and I hated myself for it. I swallowed hard, shoving the weakness down. "Those are mine, Sofia. They were mine, and you threw them away."

Her tears fell harder, her lips trembling, but it didn’t soothe me. If anything, it fueled my anger.

"I thought—" she began, but I cut her off with a sharp, bitter laugh.

"You thought you knew better than me? You thought you had the right to decide I didn’t exist in his life?" I stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet my gaze. "I am his father. And if you think for one damn second I’m going to step aside and let you keep him from me again, you’re out of your mind."

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t move away this time. She stood there, rooted, as if my words pinned her in place.

I leaned down slightly, my voice dropping to something cold, something that made her shiver. "You can hate me. You can fight me. But you will never—never—take him away from me again. If I have to burn down the world to make sure of that, I will."

For a long moment, the room was nothing but the sound of her unsteady breathing and the pounding of my own pulse. My wolf settled slightly, satisfied with the truth laid bare, but my rage was far from gone.

I straightened, my jaw locked. "From this moment on," I said slowly and deliberately, "he’s with me. I don’t care about your excuses, your fears, or our family’s damn feud. He’s mine. And I will be in his life—every day, every second—whether you like it or not."

Her eyes widened as the realization dawned on her that this wasn’t a negotiation. "I’m taking him back home with me and it’s left for you to decide if you want to come with us or not," I spat.

But even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were a damn lie.

I wanted her with me. Hell, I’d wanted her with me every day since the moment she left, since the moment I realized she’d taken not just my son but a part of me I could never get back. And despite the fury boiling in my veins, despite the sting of betrayal and the poison of our families’ history, my feelings for her had never changed.

The truth was, they’d only gotten worse. More consuming.

I watched her, the way her hands trembled against her skirt, the way her lashes clung together from tears. My wolf howled in my chest, wanting—needing—to close the space between us, to wipe those tears, to pull her against me and bury my face in her hair until the scent of her was burned into me again.

But I didn’t move.

I couldn’t.

Because if I let myself go there—if I let myself be the man who loved her instead of the man she’d betrayed—then every decision I’d already made would shatter. I needed her to understand the weight of what she’d done. I needed to keep the upper hand, to make sure she knew I wasn’t asking anymore, that I was taking.

And yet, holding myself back felt like trying to stop myself from breathing. My chest burned with it, my jaw ached from clenching too hard. Every shaky breath she took chipped away at the wall I’d built, and I hated how badly I wanted to destroy it myself.

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