Talk With Sofia

Olivia’s POV

"Sofia? Is everything okay? You don’t sound okay." Her voice was shaky, threaded with muffled sniffles. My brows furrowed instantly. For a moment, all thoughts of Frederick and his cursed house slipped away—I couldn’t focus on anything but her. "What is it? Where are you?" I pressed, my wolf pricking up with worry.

Her silence stretched, heavy and aching, until finally I felt her broken whisper. "I… I did something, Olivia. Something I shouldn’t have. And now I feel like I’m drowning."

Her pain washed over me through the bond, raw and unguarded. My chest tightened. "Talk to me," I urged softly. "Don’t hold it in. Whatever it is—you can tell me."

Sofia’s voice cracked, barely audible. "I think… I still love him. And it hurts so much, because I know I shouldn’t."

I sighed. I didn’t need her to name him. I already knew who she meant. I closed my eyes, steadying myself, then pushed calmness into the bond. "Sofia, listen, you don’t have to beat yourself up about it."

Her breathing hitched, almost like a sob. "Do you really? Because right now… I feel like I’m going mad."

"You are not going mad, my dear… believe me, you are not. This is love, and there is nothing you can do about it. Think of me as an example… Damien never did what the triplets did to me. Those men hurt me in ways I never imagined I could forgive them, but look at us now… I tried, Sofia, I tried to hate them, tried not to forgive them, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay away from them because I love them. They are my mates, and there is nothing I could do to stay away from them."

Sofia inhaled deeply over the mind link. "So what should I do, Olivia? I can’t tell him I want us back… and besides, I don’t even think he wants me. His actions… they don’t show it."

I sighed softly, my chest aching for her. "Sofia, listen to me. Men are not always good at showing their feelings. Damien might act cold, distant, but that doesn’t mean he has stopped loving you. I know he still feels something."

Her silence told me she was listening, clinging to my words. I pressed on. "Don’t let fear make your choices. You say you’re scared he doesn’t want you back, but what if he does? What if he’s just as scared as you? You’ll never know unless you open your heart and speak."

Her breathing grew shaky again. "But Olivia… what if he rejects me?"

I understood her worry. "Then at least you’ll know. At least you won’t live the rest of your life drowning in what-ifs. Isn’t the pain of silence worse than the pain of truth?"

Sofia sniffled but didn’t say anything.

"Start small," I told her. "You don’t have to pour it all out at once. Just… show him a piece of your heart. Let him see you. Let him feel you again. And trust that if the bond between you is real—and I believe it is—he won’t let you slip away."

Her whisper came soft, fragile, but with a spark of courage. "I’ll… I’ll try."

"Good."

"But Olivia, I have to tell you something else." This time she sounded more worried.

"What is it?"

She hesitated, and through the bond I could feel her wolf urging her, pushing her to speak. Finally, Sofia whispered, her words trembling. "My investigator… the one I hired to look into Rebecca’s death—he told me something. He checked her call records through the phone company."

I straightened, my pulse quickening. "And?"

Her next words were sharp enough to steal my breath. "The last person Rebecca spoke to… was Damien. They talked for fifteen minutes. And now I don’t know what to think. Olivia—what if he’s lying to me? What if… what if he had something to do with her death?"

The silence on the bond stretched heavy, suffocating. My heart thudded hard in my chest. I could feel her panic, her doubt, the way her love for Damien warred against the horror of what she’d just learned.

I swallowed, steadying my voice, though the weight of her revelation pressed into me. "Sofia… listen to me. Don’t jump yet. Fifteen minutes doesn’t prove guilt. It only proves they spoke. We don’t know what they spoke about."

Her breathing hitched, and I knew she was crying again. "But why hasn’t he told me, Olivia? Why would he hide that from me?"

I closed my eyes, fighting to stay calm for her sake. "That’s what you have to find out. Not from investigators. Not from outsiders. From him. You need to ask Damien yourself."

"I can’t… I can’t ask him. What if he hurts me to close his tracks?"

My frown deepened. "Stop it, Sofia… Damien can never hurt you. You of all people should know that."

I was sure of this… Damien could do many things, he may even have a hand in Rebecca’s death, but hurting Sofia was something I knew he would never do.

Sofia’s voice trembled. "I’m just confused."

I pressed the bond gently, sending her warmth, the way only sisters could. "Then rest, Sofia. Don’t let fear eat you alive. We’ll figure this out together."

Her breathing softened, though I still felt her doubt lingering. "Thank you, Olivia…"

"Always," I whispered, then carefully closed the link. My heart ached for her, but I couldn’t drown in her pain when I had my own storm brewing. And right now, all I wanted was the triplets. My mates. My other half. I needed to feel them, even if only for a moment.

Before I could think too long about it, I teleported straight to the mansion, but something felt… quiet. Too quiet. I went straight to Lennox’s room first. Empty. Levi’s? Empty. Louis’s? The same.

I frowned, glancing at the dusky light spilling in through the tall windows. Evening had already settled over the grounds, which meant they weren’t sleeping. They were busy.

I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes, letting their scents guide me. Levi’s trailed faintly toward the training yard but faded off—probably left earlier. Lennox’s was fresh but tangled with too many others, hard to trace. But Louis—his was stronger, sharper, pulling me toward the sparring ground.

A smile appeared on my face as I followed it.

The sounds reached me first—the rhythmic thud of feet against the dirt, the sharp clang of weapons clashing, the low growl of exertion.

And then I saw them.

Louis, bare-chested, sweat gleaming across his skin, his movements sharp and precise as he fought… her.

A woman I had never seen before.

She moved with skill, each strike fluid, her long hair whipping through the air as she countered him blow for blow. Beautiful. Deadly.

Every step of hers matched Louis’s like a dance they had practiced for years.

My feet stopped at the edge of the sparring ground. My chest tightened, my wolf bristling.

She wasn’t just skilled. She was captivating. And the way Louis’s eyes locked on her every move made my heart clench in a way I didn’t expect.