Olivia’s POV
"What!" I spat, my voice rising before I could stop myself. Shock coursed through me, making my chest tighten. But Frederick didn’t look at me. Not once. His piercing gaze stayed fixed on Selene as though his words were meant for her, not me.
"I’m no longer waiting, Olivia," he declared firmly, his tone harsh. "I want us married by next weekend."
It was like a punch to the gut.
I scoffed, folding my arms over my chest. "You must be joking."
But Frederick only shook his head, his jaw tight, his eyes still locked on Selene. The way he stared at her made my skin prickle, like I wasn’t even the one he was speaking to.
My frown deepened. Anger bubbled in my chest, ready to burst. I wanted to scream at him, to spit in his face and tell him this would never happen. But I forced myself to hold back, to control my emotions.
I straightened, my voice lowered, though the sharpness couldn’t be hidden. "I can’t marry you now, Lord Frederick. We don’t even know each other. We need time."
His answer came swiftly, leaving no room for argument.
"I don’t care," he snapped. His gaze finally flicked to me. "We will get to know each other in marriage."
But the more I looked at him, the more I realized... he wasn’t really saying it to me.
No. His eyes, his clenched jaw, the way his gaze slid back to Selene—it was all for her.
My stomach twisted. Was this his way of proving something to her? Of stabbing her in the chest with his decision?
I glanced at Selene. She had gone pale, her lips pressed tight together, her eyes refusing to meet his. But she couldn’t hide it. The flicker of hurt that flashed in her gaze was obvious enough. It hit me then. He was using me... to wound her.
And goodness help me, it was working.
Selene shifted on her feet, her hands balling into fists at her sides. Her wolf stirred in her eyes for just a moment before she blinked it away. She looked like she wanted to shout, to curse, but instead, she stayed silent. Before I could move, Frederick came closer.
In just a few steps, he stood right in front of me. His hand grabbed my wrist—not hard, but strong enough to make me freeze—then he pulled me to himself, wrapping his arm around my waist. My wolf snarled at the impact of his touch.
"I can’t wait anymore, Olivia," he said in a low, serious voice. His thumb pressed against my pulse like he wanted to remind me he was in control. "I want you as my wife. By next weekend, you will be mine."
His words weren’t loud, but they hit me harder than if he had shouted.
I looked up at him, shocked, my heart racing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Selene. She was stiff, her face pale, her eyes wide. She looked... hurt.
Frederick looked at her too, for just a second, like he wanted her to hear every word. Like he wanted the words to pierce through her.
Then he let go of me.
Without saying more, he fixed his shirt, turned, and walked to the door. "I’ll make the wedding plans," he said coldly before leaving.


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