Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 470

Chapter 470: It Didn’t Happen

Sofia’s POV

My wolf whimpered in my chest, her pain mirroring mine. I wanted to scream, to tear at something, but instead, I stood still, cold and numb, refusing to let him see how much it hurt.

"Fine," I said quietly, forcing my voice not to shake. "You’re fucking other women, then I guess I can too."

His head snapped up at that, his eyes flashing with something dark, but instead of the rage I expected, he only scoffed.

"I never stopped you," he said flatly. "Do whatever you want."

Those words shattered me. Completely.

The Damien I knew, the man who once couldn’t stand another man even looking at me, was gone. The Damien who used to pull me close, mark me, whisper that I was his and no one else’s—he wasn’t standing here anymore. This version of him was cold, distant, and unrecognizable.

I swallowed hard, my throat burning. "Right," I whispered. "Do whatever I want."

I turned away before the tears could fall, before I humiliated myself any further. My legs felt weak as I walked out of the room, but I didn’t stop until I reached my own. I closed the door quietly behind me and leaned against it, my breath shaking.

The moment I was alone, I crumbled.

I curled up on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest as silent sobs tore through me. I hated myself—for still loving him, for still wanting him even after everything. For caring when I should’ve stopped a long time ago.

Every memory of us came rushing back—the laughter, the moments together, the promises. And now, all that was left was this emptiness that clawed at my heart.

I cried until I couldn’t anymore, until exhaustion numbed the ache in my chest. My eyes were swollen, my throat raw, but finally, I drifted into a half-sleep, my mind too tired to fight the pain.

Then, I heard it—the sound of keys turning softly in the lock.

My heart skipped a beat. Instantly, I knew it was Damien.

I quickly wiped my face and closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. My breaths came slow and steady as I listened to the door creak open.

Footsteps. Slow, deliberate. The air shifted with his scent—warm, musky, achingly familiar.

He stood there for a while, just watching me. I could feel it, the weight of his gaze heavy on my skin.

Part of me wanted to sit up, to scream at him, to ask why. But I couldn’t. I stayed still, silent, my heart pounding painfully in my chest.

When he finally moved closer, the mattress dipped slightly as Damien sat down beside me, his scent wrapping around me in a way that made my chest tighten. I kept my eyes closed, my breathing even, pretending to be asleep. I couldn’t face him. Not after what he said.

For a moment, he didn’t move. The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Then his voice came, low and rough, carrying that familiar edge that always seemed to cut straight through me.

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