Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 361

Chapter 361: Threats

Damien’s POV

Her words slammed into me like claws across my chest.

A man.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. My wolf surged forward, snarling, demanding a name, a face, blood. My jaw clenched so tightly it hurt, my knuckles whitening around the pen in my hand.

I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. If I did, I might break.

Instead, I bent my head lower, forcing myself to stare at the papers spread before me, though the words swam and tangled into a blur I couldn’t make sense of. My hand moved as if to write, but the pen refused to obey. I wasn’t writing at all—I was clutching it so hard that the plastic groaned under the pressure, my knuckles straining white. A sharp crack split the silence, the pen snapping in my grip, ink threatening to spill, yet still I didn’t loosen my hold.

She lied. She had to. If another man had touched her, I would have known. I would have smelled him on her skin, felt it burn in my wolf’s bones. There was no way I could have missed it.

And yet... the way she spoke tore at me. Her voice had no pause, no stumble. It was steady, clear, and sharp. Too real. Too sure. Like she wanted her words to cut and leave me bleeding.

Charlie shifted on the couch, his small body turning, a soft sigh escaping his lips. The sound comforted me for a moment, dragging me back from the edge of my fury. I lifted my eyes, just enough to see Sofia bend over him, brushing his hair gently from his forehead.

My chest twisted. God, I love this woman.

The thought of another man standing where I stood, near Charlie, near Sofia—it burned hotter than any flame.

"Don’t," I finally said, my voice low, rough, but steady.

Her head snapped up, her brows furrowed. "Don’t what?"

"Don’t you ever bring him near Charlie," I growled. My wolf pressed against my skin, fighting to be let out. "If you even think of letting another man into his life, I will take him from you. Do you understand me?"

Her lips parted, but she said nothing. Her eyes shone with something I couldn’t read—fear, anger, maybe guilt.

The silence stretched, sharp as a blade.

Finally, I pushed back from the desk, standing to my full height. "Get up. We’re leaving."

The car ride was a graveyard.

She sat stiffly on the passenger side, her arms crossed, her face turned to the window. Not a word left her lips. My grip on the steering wheel was iron, the veins in my hands straining as my wolf paced inside me.

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