Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Still Protective Of Her

Lennox's POV

It had been a week since I last saw her, a week of avoiding her. And now, when I finally laid eyes on her again, it was to witness one of my own warriors laying his fucking hands on her.

Logan had dared to slap Olivia. The sight of those red marks marring her face made my blood boil. My wolf snarled in my head, demanding that I turn back and rip him apart. And I would have. But Olivia stopped me.

She had grabbed my wrist, shaking her head, her damn pleading eyes locking onto mine. And for some reason, I listened.

I hated that I listened. I hated that I let that bastard walk away with his life.

I swear by the Moon Goddess, if she hadn't stopped me, I would have killed him—and it would have been justified. It would have been a warning to everyone who dared to lay a hand on her. Only my brothers and I had the right to speak down to her. Even then, we had no fucking right to touch her. I had hit her once before, and I still hadn't forgiven myself for it. And yet some bastard had the audacity, the utter lack of fear, to strike the mate of his Alphas.

No respect.

When we reached the pack house clinic, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Olivia hesitated for a moment before following.

The clinic was empty except for a pack nurse, who immediately stood and bowed her head in respect.

I exhaled sharply and turned to the nurse. "Leave."

The nurse hesitated for a second before nodding and hurrying out of the room.

Olivia sat on the examination table, silent, her fingers curled into the hem of her shirt. She was trying to act unaffected, but I saw the slight tremor in her hands, the way she avoided looking at me.

"I can handle it myself," she muttered, reaching for the first aid kit on the counter.

I snatched it before she could touch it. "No."

Her head snapped up, eyes flashing with defiance. "Lennox, I don't need your help."

I ignored her, pulling out antiseptic and cotton. The anger simmering in my chest made my hands rougher than necessary as I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me. She flinched slightly, and guilt curled in my gut. I had hit her once before, and I could see she hadn't forgotten.

Damn it.

"Hold still," I said, softer this time.

She did, though her shoulders were tense. I dipped the cotton into the antiseptic and pressed it against the red marks on her cheek. She hissed but didn't pull away.

"I should've killed him," I muttered under my breath.

Olivia let out a humorless laugh. "And then what? You think that would make things better?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "You can't solve everything with violence, Lennox."

I scoffed. "And what? Let them think they can put their hands on you and walk away? That's not happening. You're my—" I cut myself off, jaw clenching.

Her expression hardened. "I'm your what?"

I didn't answer. I focused on cleaning her wound, my fingers brushing against her skin. She felt warm beneath my touch, too warm, and I hated the way my body reacted to it. I hated that I still wanted her despite everything.

After a moment, she exhaled and looked away. "You don't have to do this."

"I know," I said, bandaging the area. "But I am. After all, you are my wife whether I like it or not."

Silence stretched between us. She watched me carefully, as if trying to figure me out, but even I wasn't sure what the hell I was doing anymore.