I know this isn’t what we planned. Olivia is pregnant. As a fated mate, I’m expected to go through with the mating ritual.
But I want you to know – if you’ll have me, I’ll cancel it all. Pregnant or not, fated mates or not, I choose you. I’ve always chosen
you.
Please say you’ll stay with me.
Forever yours,
Derek
The letter slipped from my numb fingers, landing among the scattered remnants of my son’s childhood. Among the memories of a life I thought was mine.
Love and Lies
Olivia’s POV:
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I stared at the photos scattered across the floor. Derek and Rachel, young and in love. The evidence was right there in front of me, but my mind refused to accept it.
Our marriage had been good – hadn’t it? Even today, Derek had defended me without hesitation. He’d put Rachel in her place, protected my position as Oliver’s mother.
I closed my eyes, focusing on my connection with Ava. My wolf wasn’t showing signs of mate betrayal. If Derek was currently involved with Rachel, Ava would know. Would feel it.
But why keep his ex–girlfriend so close? Why make her his secretary? Why hide their past from me?
The loving gestures over the years – were they real or just an act? The morning coffees, the gentle touches, the way he’d support me after long healing sessions…
I gathered up the photos, studying them more closely. Derek looked so young, so carefree. The way he smiled at Rachel in these pictures – had he ever looked at me that way?
The family I’d thought was mine suddenly felt like a house of cards, ready to collapse at any moment. My husband had hidden his past. My son had rejected me publicly.
Everything I’d done had been for them. Every extra shift at the healing center. Every missed social event because someone in the
pack needed emergency care.
I’d earned enough to send Oliver to the best schools. Spent countless hours researching ways to strengthen his naturally weak constitution. Used my healing powers to boost his immune system whenever I could.
And what did Oliver see? A controlling mother. A source of rules and restrictions. Someone to reject in favor of the fun, permissive
woman who let him eat whatever he wanted.
The sound of the front door opening startled me from my thoughts. I quickly shoved the photos and letter back into their
envelope.
“Olivia?” Derek’s voice called out. “Where are you, love?”
He found me in Oliver’s room, still surrounded by childhood mementos. In his hands was a small gift bag.
“I thought you could use a little pick–me–up.” He pulled out a beautiful silk scarf in my favorite shade of blue. “I know today was
rough.”
I took the scarf, trying to see past the gift to any hint of deception in his eyes. But all I saw was concern.
“Oliver’s just young,” Derek said softly, sitting beside me. “He doesn’t understand that the cream incident could have killed him.
He doesn’t remember how close we came to losing him that day.”
1/3
I traced my fingers over a small hospital bracelet from one of Oliver’s many childhood emergencies. “Sometimes I think he hates
me for trying to keep him safe.”
“He doesn’t hate you.” Derek wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “He loves you very much. He just doesn’t like the
restrictions. But he’ll understand when he’s older.”
He picked up one of Oliver’s baby photos. “Look how far he’s come. Remember how weak he was when he was born? His health has improved so much. Maybe we can afford to be a little less strict now.”
His words made sense. His voice soothed something raw deep inside me, and as if on cue, Derek leaned in, and his lips found mine–first gentle, then insistent. Our connection was primal, a call from our inner wolves that wouldn’t be denied.
Before long, the tender kisses intensified into a heated need that neither of us could resist. In the dim light of the room, he ran his hands over my bare shoulders, igniting a trail of fire along my skin. I pressed against him as he slid his strong hands down my back, each touch both a promise and a plea. With deliberate passion, I led him to the edge of the bed, where the world narrowed to
just our entwined bodies and the raw urgency of our desire.
Our clothes became obstacles quickly discarded, pooling carelessly on the rug as we bared all. I could feel every rise and fall of his
breathing as his lips traced a path along my neck. The heat between us built rapidly–his kisses deepened, and soon our hands were exploring every curve, every secret place, with bold, unwavering intent. I felt the slick heat of arousal as he pressed himself
closer, each of his thrusts and caresses made Ava and I let out moans of pleasure together.
Our bodies rhythmically moved together, his steady thrusts, the friction of skin against skin and the mingling of our breaths. I
gasped and moaned as the rhythm of our union increased, each movement drowning me deeper in sensual stimulation. Every
explicit claim he made, every intimate whisper, sent shivers throughout my body.
Derek’s lips found mine, gentle at first, then more insistent. Our wolves recognized each other, that primal connection that had
brought us together in the first place.
When I woke up later, the bed beside me was empty. But the house smelled of cooking, and I could hear Derek moving around in
the kitchen.
I stretched, feeling more relaxed than I had in days. Maybe Derek was right. Maybe I needed to loosen up a little with Oliver.
The dining room table was set when I came downstairs, a full meal laid out. Derek had even cleaned up the living room.
This was the mate I knew. The one who took care of me. Who loved me.
I decided then to make a real change. This weekend, I would take Oliver on a picnic. Just the two of us. No rules, no restrictions –
just mother and son time.
I grabbed my phone as I tried to tell Derek through the mind link about my weekend plans. Just then I saw a message on my
phone from my best friend Isabel.
A video message. Filmed just an hour ago at the luxury boutique downtown.
My heart stopped as I watched:
2/3
Rachel is admiring two designer bags. Oliver is at her side, pulling out a familiar bank card–Black Card, mine.
“I’ll get them for you, Rachel!” His voice was eager, happy – the way he used to sound with me.
The card he swiped? Mine. Twenty thousand dollars, gone in an instant.
The phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering on the table.
