Desired By Three Alphas Fated To One (Hailee) novel Chapter 282

Nathan's POV

For a second, I thought I was dreaming.

The world was blurry… the walls far away… the floor tilting under my feet. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

All I knew was pain.

Thick. Burning. Deep in my chest.

The last thing I remembered was lying on the healer's bed, drowning in darkness while voices faded around me.

Now suddenly… barely, I was standing in the doorway of the throne room.

My hand gripped the doorframe tightly. My legs shook under me. Every breath felt like knives tearing through my lungs. Sweat ran down my back. My heart beat weakly against my ribs, angry and slow.

But none of that mattered.

Because in front of me…

Hailee was standing beside Callum.

A priest stood before them.

They both wore rings.

And Callum was leaning toward her… his head low… his mouth open… ready to mark her.

My mate.

The woman the moon gave me.

The woman whose soul was tied to mine.

Something primal ripped out of my chest before I could stop it.

"DON'T DO IT, HAILEE—!"

My voice cracked through the hall, raw and broken.

Everyone turned at once.

Guards. Elders. Callum's men. Peter.

And Hailee.

Her eyes flew to me.

For a moment, I saw everything in them.

Shock.

Pain.

Hope.

Terror.

"Nathan…" she whispered.

My legs buckled.

The doorway swayed.

I forced myself to step forward—but the room spun so fast I stumbled.

Hailee ran.

She didn't think. She didn't hesitate.

She rushed from Callum's side and flew toward me, her dress sweeping the floor behind her.

"Nathan!" she cried, catching me as my knees nearly gave out. She slid her arms around me, trying to hold my weight even though she was shaking.

Up close, I could smell her.

Rain. Warmth. Home.

"Don't do it," I breathed, my voice rough, broken. "Don't let him mark you. I'm fine. See… I'm awake…"

It was a lie.

I wasn't fine.

My entire body screamed in pain. My heart fought against whatever poison was still crawling through my veins. My vision kept going dark around the edges.

But I needed her to believe I wasn't dying.

Because the bond between us was screaming.

She belonged to me.

And I belonged to her.

Tears filled her eyes instantly.

"Nathan… you shouldn't be standing," she whispered. Her hands tightened on my arms. "You'll fall—"

Before she could finish—

Callum appeared behind her.

His hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her away from me.

"She's my wife now," he said coldly. "Let her go."

My wolf snarled inside me.

MINE.

I wanted to punch him. I wanted to rip him away from her and show everyone in that room exactly who she belonged to.

But my knees were shaking.

My chest was on fire.

I wasn't myself.

I was dying.

And I knew it.

"Callum, stop!" Hailee cried, trying to pull her wrist free. "Let go of me!"

He dragged her back toward him, his jaw clenched, his eyes wild.

"She's mine," he snapped. "You had your chance. You should have stayed dead."

The words hit me like a blade.

The room tilted.

My hand slipped from the doorframe.

I almost dropped to the floor—but then something else happened.

Something that made every hair on my body stand up.

Hailee went still.

Completely still.

Her breathing stopped for a second.

Then—

Her aura changed.

It was like the air itself shifted.

A pressure rolled through the throne room—a heavy, thick power that made even my weak heart stutter.

Hailee's eyes… darkened.

Then glowed.

Not fully. Not like a wolf about to shift.

But like something deep inside her had woken up.

Something old.

Something dangerous.

Her body straightened slowly.

Callum still held her wrist. But now his fingers looked small against her skin.

"Hailee?" Peter whispered from the side, his voice trembling with fear.

She turned her head toward Callum.

Very slowly.

Very calmly.

"Let. Me. Go," she said in a low voice that didn't sound entirely like hers.

He scoffed, gripping her tighter.

"That's enough—"

He never finished.

Hailee moved.

Fast.

Too fast.

She twisted her wrist and shoved him.

One push.

Just one.

But the force that exploded from her hand wasn't normal.

Callum flew.

His body shot backward like someone had thrown him with supernatural strength. He crashed into the stone wall on the other side of the room with a sickening crack.

The wall shook.

People screamed.

The priest dropped his book.

Callum slid down the wall, coughing, blood dripping from his mouth. He tried to stand, but his legs buckled. His arm hung at a strange angle.

Bones broken.

All from one push.

I stared, breathless.

Everyone did.

Even at the edge of death… I was stunned.

That was Hailee.

My Hailee.

Or… something inside her.

She turned away from Callum like he meant nothing and walked back to me, her eyes glowing faintly, her aura thick and heavy.

I should have felt relieved.

But I didn't.

Because something about her felt… wrong.

"Hailee…" I whispered.

She didn't answer.

She reached me and placed one hand flat against my chest.

Right where the arrow had pierced me earlier.

The moment her palm touched me—

Heat surged through my body.

A bright, burning light rushed under my skin, racing through my veins like fire and lightning mixed together.

My back arched.

A harsh gasp tore from my throat.

The pain in my chest began to fade.

The pounding in my skull eased.

My lungs opened.

The heavy weight of poison I had been carrying… lifted.

I sucked in a full breath—deep, clean, strong—and my eyes widened.

I felt… alive.

Stronger.

Whole.

I looked down at her hand.

He screamed.

The sound cut short when the breath left his lungs.

His men rushed toward him, shouting his name.

"Alpha!"

"Callum!"

"FATHER!"

The last voice wasn't from one of his warriors.

It was small.

Young.

Broken.

Oliver.

My heart dropped as Hailee's son rushed into the hall, having followed the noise.

He ran straight to Callum's side and fell to his knees, his hands shaking as he touched his shoulders.

"Father!" Oliver choked. "What happened? Papa, wake up—"

Callum coughed weakly, his face almost white.

"I'm… fine…" he lied.

He wasn't.

One of the guards whispered, "His ribs are crushed…"

Oliver's eyes were wide with tears.

He looked up slowly.

Looked at Hailee.

At the blood on the floor.

At the emptiness in her eyes.

His lips trembled.

"Mommy…" he whispered, his voice shaking. "What… what did you do?"

There was no response.

The woman standing there wasn't fully his mother.

The spirit inside her had wrapped her emotions in ice, but Oliver wouldn't understand.

She stared at Callum and spoke one last time.

"Never show your face to me again," she said coldly. "If you do… I will kill you."

Oliver gasped.

Callum's men scrambled, lifting him up carefully.

"Let's go," one muttered. "He needs a healer—now."

Oliver stood there for a long moment, tears streaking his face, his small fists clenched.

He looked at Hailee again.

Not with confusion this time.

With hurt.

With anger.

With pure hate.

Then he turned and ran after Callum, disappearing down the hallway as his father was dragged away.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Silence followed.

Heavy. Horrified. Disbelieving.

My heart was beating fast now—not from poison, not from pain, but from fear.

For her.

For Hailee.

I turned fully toward her.

She was still standing in the middle of the room… her eyes dimming slowly… shoulders dropping bit by bit… like whatever dark force was inside her was losing its grip.

Blood still slid down her legs, staining the floor, drying against her skin.

"Hailee," I said softly.

I stepped toward her.

"Hailee… it's me. Nathan."

Her eyes shifted.

For a second, just a second, I saw it.

My Hailee.

The girl who smiled, who fought, who loved too hard and too much.

Her lips parted.

"Nathan…" she whispered weakly.

Then her eyes rolled back.

Her body swayed.

"Hailee!" Peter shouted.

I lunged forward and caught her before she hit the floor.

Her weight fell into my arms, her head dropping against my chest, her hair covering her face.

She was completely unconscious.

Her aura flickered out.

The power in the room vanished.

The atmosphere returned to normal.