Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43: No Children

Olivia's POV

Today had been exhausting. From meeting with the she-wolves to my heated encounter with Logan, then dealing with Lennox fussing over my injury, and finally attending to pack matters—it had been one thing after another. All I wanted was to collapse onto my bed and sleep, but tonight was a family dinner. And not just with the triplets and Anita. Their parents would be there too. I had no choice but to attend.

As I arrived at the dining table, a small smile formed on my lips when I saw my mother seated. It was comforting to see her eating at the same table as me. She had been through so much, and now that I was royalty, she was, too.

"Good evening, everyone," I greeted.

Mother responded warmly, and the triplets' parents acknowledged me, but the triplets themselves remained silent. Across from me, Anita sat glaring.

"I heard you officially started your duties as Luna today," Lady Fiona, the triplets' mother, said.

I nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

She gave me an encouraging smile. "Being a Luna is demanding, but I believe you can handle it. And if you ever need guidance, don't hesitate to come to me, okay?"

I nodded, but deep down, I knew that was never going to happen.

Don't get me wrong—Lady Fiona was a good woman with a kind heart. But to me, she had been a terrible Luna.

She had been there when my father was accused of stealing, yet she never used her position to prove his innocence. She had been Luna when my mother and I were demoted to Omegas when the she-wolves shunned my mother and banned her from their gatherings, and she had done nothing to stop it. She had been there when we were treated like trash, when my mother fell into depression—and what did she do? She turned a blind eye.

And worst of all, she had been there when her sons, the triplets, treated me like garbage. As their mother and as the Luna, she could have brought them into line.

I couldn't help but wonder—did she know her husband had ordered my father's execution? An innocent man murdered. And if she had known… why didn't she stop it?

Dinner was served, the clinking of cutlery filling the silence that stretched awkwardly between us. The triplets still hadn't said a word to me. Not even Lennox, who had been surprisingly gentle earlier when tending to my wound. Louis stared at his plate like it held the secrets of the universe, while Levi occasionally glanced up, only to look away the moment our eyes met.

And Anita? She was still glaring like she wanted to set me on fire with her eyes.

"So," Sir Phillip, the triplets' father, began, breaking the silence. "How was your first day handling pack duties?"

I straightened in my seat, swallowing the bitterness rising in my throat. "Challenging, but manageable."

He nodded approvingly, but his gaze held a subtle weight, as if assessing my every word. "Good. You will do well," he said, as if praising me, and I fought the urge to glare at him. I hated him. I hated him and would never forgive him.

"Thank you, sir," I murmured, offering a tight smile. He didn't notice the hollowness behind it—or maybe he chose not to.

He hummed in response and turned back to his food.

My mother reached out under the table and gently squeezed my hand. I almost lost it. I almost snapped at him, wanting to demand why he would order my father to be killed like that. But that simple gesture from my mom, the warmth of her fingers—anchored me and stopped me.

"Stay calm," she whispered softly enough that only I could hear.

My throat tightened, and I quickly nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

Across the table, I caught Levi watching the exchange. There was a flicker in his eyes—something like concern. Maybe regret. But then he dropped his gaze again, and the wall between us rebuilt itself in an instant.

They were all good at that—building walls.

The silence stretched as we ate, tension thick in the air. My mother's hand was still gently wrapped around mine under the table, grounding me, keeping me from saying something I would regret.

Then Lady Fiona's voice cut through the silence, light and casual—too casual.

"So, Olivia…" she began, setting her fork down gracefully. "When should we expect grandchildren?"

I froze.

The triplets stilled instantly. Louis, who had been quietly cutting his food, stopped mid-slice. Levi exhaled sharply, his grip on his glass tightening. Lennox, who had been the most silent so far, let out a low scoff.

Then, in perfect unison, they spoke—cold and firm. "Never."

The word rang out, final and absolute.

I swallowed. My fingers curled into fists under the table.

Lady Fiona blinked, looking at them in surprise. "What?"

Louis set his knife down, his jaw clenched. "It's not happening. Ever."

Levi's expression was unreadable, but his voice was sharp. "There will be no children between us."

Lennox leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed. "Not with her."

The words stung more than they should have. My grip on my lap tightened, nails digging into my palm. I should have expected this—I did expect this. So why did it hurt?

My mother tensed beside me, her gaze flickering between me and the triplets, concern flashing in her eyes.