Desired By Three Alphas; Fated To One

Hailee's POV

I placed a gentle knock on Nathan's door and drew in a deep breath, composing myself. My palms were damp against the tray I carried.

"Come in," his deep voice called from the other side.

My heart skipped. Slowly, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room smelled like him—strong, musky, faint traces of smoke from the cigarette he had last night. He was by the window, shirtless, the early light spilling across his back. His muscles moved with every slow breath, his skin tense, his presence filling every corner of the room.

I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes on the tray. "Your coffee, Alpha," I whispered, setting it down carefully on the table near his bed.

For a moment, a tense silence stretched between us. I could feel his eyes on me before I even dared to look.

Finally, he spoke. His tone was very low, as if he was speaking to himself.

"You knock like a stranger. Ten years ago, you would have walked straight in."

I swallowed hard. My voice trembled, but I managed, "Ten years ago, I wasn't your maid."

He turned then, slowly, his piercing gaze locking on mine. The weight of it made my breath catch.

"And whose fault is it, Hailee?" he said, taking a step closer. "Why are you acting angry like I am the one at fault here!" he spat.

I swallowed hard but didn't respond; rather, I looked away, not able to withstand his pain-filled eyes. Nathan reached for the tray. His fingers brushed the cup, and for one moment, I thought he might not drink it. But he lifted the coffee to his lips, took a slow sip—

Then he spat it out instantly, the dark liquid splattering across the floorboards.

"What the hell is this?" he snarled, his voice vibrating with annoyance. He slammed the cup back down so hard it rattled against the tray.

I frowned. "Coffee."

His head snapped toward me, his eyes burning with irritation. "Coffee with sugar. You know I don't take sugar in my coffee, Hailee. I never have!"

My stomach dropped. I knew. Goddess, I knew—but in my daze, my nerves, my panic—I had done it exactly the way Frederick used to like it.

And that mistake… Nathan had noticed.

He stepped closer, fury radiating from him. "So tell me, Hailee," he said, his tone filled with rage. "Whose coffee did you think you were making? Certainly not mine."

My lips parted, lies tumbling out before I could stop them. "I—I'm sorry," I stammered. "I must have… mixed it up with how I used to make it for my late husband."

The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them.

Nathan's face darkened. His hand twitched once, then in a violent motion, he flung the cup across the room. It smashed against the wall, shards and coffee spilling down in a sharp, ugly mess.

"Don't," he growled, his chest heaving, "don't you dare stand here and tell me you confused me with him."

I bit my trembling lip, looking away… what the hell is wrong with me. Why do I keep messing things up?

Nathan took a step closer to me. "Tell me, Hailee. What does he have?" he demanded, his voice loud, breaking with something deeper than anger. "What did your husband give you that I couldn't? What does he have that I don't, that you had to leave me for him?"

My throat closed. I opened my mouth, closed it again. Words burned inside me, but none of them were the truth.

He took a step closer, his voice lower now, rougher, filled with hurt. "Tell me what really happened. Why did you leave? Why did you destroy me, Hailee?" His jaw tightened as his voice dropped to a whisper. "And in that video… you said you weren't an omega. That you had secrets. What did you mean?"

I froze. Every part of me screamed to tell him the truth—but I couldn't. If I did, he would cling to me, and I couldn't let that happen. My life was already broken beyond repair… he deserved someone better. Not me. A shattered, wolfless woman. So I did what I've always done. I lied.

"I left because I couldn't cope anymore," I whispered, forcing the words out through trembling lips. "Being in love with three men—it was too much. I couldn't breathe in that triangle anymore. I needed to escape."

His face went pale.

I swallowed hard, looking away before I added, "And… that day. The day you and I… slept together. I also slept with Callum and Dane the same day." My chest felt like it was splitting open as I forced the words out. "You weren't the only one. I gave myself to them too. And that same day."

His nostrils flared. His hands shook. His wolf raged inside him, I could see it in the tremor that passed through his body. My words had cut him, deep and raw, and part of me hated myself for saying them. But I couldn't take them back now.

"So I couldn't satisfy you?" He spat in pain, but I gave no response. "And your omega status?" he snapped suddenly, his eyes narrowing. "What about that? You said you weren't an omega. Was that another lie? Or another secret you've kept from me all these years?"

My lips trembled, but I forced another lie through my teeth. "I wasn't an omega," I said, steadying my voice. "My father is a gamma. He and my mother had… issues, that's why we came to the Full Moon Pack. But later, they reconciled. And I went back with her. Back to my father's side. There… I met the man I was betrothed to. We got married."

I lifted my chin, even as shame burned me alive. "That's the truth, Nathan."

But it wasn't. Not really. And I prayed he couldn't see it.

For a long, crushing moment, Nathan said nothing. He just stood there, staring at me, his chest heaving.

Then—against everything I thought possible—I saw it. A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye, tracing down his cheek. He wiped it away so fast, so harshly, it was as if he wanted to erase the evidence it had ever been there.

His voice came out rough, filled with rage and sorrow.

"Clean up this mess," he said, nodding toward the shattered cup and spilled coffee. "Then get out."

He didn't look at me again. Instead, he turned, shoulders rigid, and strode toward the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, and I heard the rush of water.

I knelt slowly, gathering the shards with trembling hands. My chest ached, my throat tight as I swallowed back my own tears.

I was hurting him and myself at the same time… but I knew this was the only way. Nathan deserved to move on.

I picked up the glass and got up to my feet as I turned to dispose of the shattered glass. That's when I saw it.

By the edge of his bed, tucked carefully on the nightstand, was a picture frame. My fingers stilled. I reached out and lifted it carefully, my breath stalling in my lungs.

It was me.

Not the woman I am now. But me from years ago—young, smiling, alive with hope. A time when Nathan and I were everything to each other.

The glass was cracked, a faint line running across my face.

I blinked hard, my heart twisting painfully, when suddenly—

A hand snatched it from me.

I gasped, looking up. Nathan stood there, damp from the shower, his towel clinging to his waist. His jaw was tight, his eyes bloodshot.

Without a word, he hurled the frame across the room. It smashed against the wall, glass shattering to the floor.

He turned and glared at me. "The woman in that picture," he said, his eyes locked on me with hate, "is dead."

I froze, every muscle in my body trembling.

He stepped closer, his presence towering, his wet hair dripping against his temples, water sliding down the muscles of his chest. His towel hung low on his hips, but all I could focus on was his eyes—red-rimmed, raw with a pain he tried to bury under fury.

"You," he spat, his lip curling. "You are nothing but her lookalike. An imposter. My Hailee died ten years ago when she walked away and never came back."

The words hit me. My knees weakened, my heart collapsing in my chest.

I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that burned behind my eyes. "Nathan…" I whispered, but no other words would come.

He shook his head once, violently, his jaw clenching so tight it looked like it might shatter. Then he turned his back on me, his voice dropping to a low growl.

"Get out."

I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, forcing myself toward the door. I pushed it open, staring at his turned back one last time before slipping out and closing the door softly behind me.

The moment it shut, I leaned against the wall, my knees trembling. My hands still smelled of coffee. I pressed them against my face, willing the tears to stay locked inside. I couldn't cry. Not now. Not here.

"Mom!"

I lifted my head sharply.

Oscar and Oliver were rushing down the hall toward me, their small faces pale, panic etched across them. My heart skipped.

"What is it?" I asked quickly, kneeling to catch them by the shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Oliver's lips trembled as he whispered the words that made my blood run cold.

"It's Ozzy," he said. "He's missing."