Desired By Three Alphas; Fated To One-Chapter 17: Spell

Nathan’s POV

Hailee scoffed and stepped closer, glaring straight into my eyes. "Clara told me about the bet you made with your friends," she said sharply. "You bet that you could kiss me twice—and congratulations, you won." She spat with anger.

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t react, I just went numb as I pondered on her words, and just like lightning, anger exploded through me.

"Clara lied," I said through gritted teeth. I was already losing my temper—God help Clara.

"And you expect me to believe that?" Hailee asked, raising a skeptical brow.

I shook my head and took a step closer, reaching out to take her hand, but she yanked it away and glared at me.

"Clara lied. There was no such bet. In fact, none of my friends even know we’ve kissed. I may be a dick, but I don’t discuss my sex life with my friends—and definitely not when it concerns you."

But the look on Hailee’s face said it all. She didn’t believe me. No matter what I said, in her mind, I was lying.

And that broke something inside me.

Without thinking, I yanked my phone from my pocket, fingers trembling with rage as I scrolled to Clara’s number. I hit the call button and placed the phone on speaker so Hailee could hear every word.

It rang once. Twice.

Then Clara picked up.

"Hey, Nathan. What’s—"

I cut her off. "How dare you, Clara!"

There was a pause. "What—"

"What the hell did you tell Hailee?!" I shouted. "You told her I made a bet to kiss her twice?!"

Clara sighed. "Ugh, calm down. It was nothing, brother. I was just pulling her leg, I thought I’d mess with her a little."

My eyes flicked to Hailee, whose face was pale with anger and disbelief.

"How dare you," I said, my voice trembling now. "You’ve got some nerve."

Clara let out a small laugh. "Come on, Nathan. It’s Hailee we’re talking about. Why did you even kiss her anyway? She’s an omega. Or do you want her as a fuck buddy? She doesn’t even qualify for that."

The second those words left her mouth, I lost it.

My hands clenched into fists. My wolf growled so loud inside me, it felt like my chest was vibrating.

"Don’t you ever talk about her like that again!" I growled into the phone. "I swear, Clara, if you ever lie about me again or insult her—"

Clara was silent.

"You want to play games? Fine. That Benz I promised? Consider it gone. Don’t even think about it."

"Nathan—" she tried to speak.

I didn’t let her.

I ended the call.

The silence that followed felt heavy. My breathing was sharp, harsh in the still air.

I turned to Hailee.

"I’m sorry," I said quietly. "Clara’s just spoiled... We spoiled her too much." I apologized and waited—waited for her to speak, to say anything.

But she said nothing.

She just dropped her bag on the reading table, turned away from me, and began taking off her shoes like I wasn’t even there.

I stood still, watching her quietly, hoping—praying—for a single glance... a single sign that she believed me. But it didn’t come.

She pulled her hair into a loose bun, reached for her towel from the hanger near the bed, and began walking toward the bathroom.

Right at the doorway, she paused.

Without turning back, she said in a low, tired voice, "I believe you should be gone before I come back."

Then she pushed the door open and walked in, closing it gently behind her.

I released a soft sigh and ran a hand through my hair. Damn it. I’d never been in a situation like this before.

All of this—chasing after a girl, waiting for her to say something, needing her to believe me—was new.

Too new.

And it was driving me absolutely crazy.

I glanced at the bathroom door again as I heard the sound of the shower running.

Should I wait? Or should I respect her decision and leave?

I spoke to my wolf. "What do you think?"

He growled low. "She’s not in a good mood. Let her be...."

I sighed again, dragging my hand down my face.

"She’ll come to the mansion tomorrow," my wolf murmured in my head. "It’s Sunday."

I nodded to myself, even though it felt wrong to leave. But I needed to give her space... for now.

So I walked over to the window, climbed out the same way I came in, and this time—I didn’t run.

I just walked.

The air was cold, but it did nothing to cool the storm in my chest. My thoughts were a mess, but all of them had one name in the middle: Hailee.

I didn’t know when I started falling for her.

But now, I knew one thing for sure—I had fallen.

Hard.

By the time I got to the mansion, my head was spinning.

I walked past the guards without a word and climbed the stairs to my room. My hands were shaking, and my body felt...

Heavy.

I shut the door behind me and leaned on it.

Was I getting sick?

I took off my shirt and collapsed on the bed, my chest rising and falling fast.

My skin felt clammy. My head was pounding. I couldn’t explain what was happening.

Everything felt off.

I turned to the side, groaning softly as I clutched my head. My whole body shook as I held my head. The pain was getting worse, like something was crawling under my skin. I was sweating, my chest was tight, and everything felt wrong.

Something dark was inside me.

And my wolf... he was growling, trying to fight it off.

"What’s happening to me..." I whispered. But just then, there was a knock on my door.

I didn’t have the strength to answer.

Another knock. Harder this time.

Still, I said nothing.

A moment later, the door creaked open. I sensed someone stepping inside, but I couldn’t lift my head to look.

"Nathan...?" I recognized the panicked voice of my father.

I heard him move quickly to my side.

"Nat—son, what the hell is going on?" he growled, gripping my shoulder.

I groaned weakly, my body twitching in pain.

"Guards!" he suddenly roared. "Get the healer! Now!"

His voice thundered down the hall. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel-com

In seconds, footsteps echoed outside, and then I heard my mother’s voice from down the corridor. "What’s going on?! What’s wrong with Nathan?!"

My bedroom door flew open again. She rushed in, breathless.

Then Clara followed, stopping in her tracks when she saw me curled up, sweating, and trembling in bed.

"Oh my God..." she gasped, voice trembling with fear.

I didn’t blame them. I’d never been this sick before.

Within minutes, the royal healer arrived. An older woman with silver-streaked braids and sharp green eyes. She didn’t waste time. She dropped to her knees beside the bed, her bag already open, herbs and tools spilling out.

She placed her hands on my forehead, and I flinched at the coldness of her touch.

"He’s burning up," she muttered under her breath. Then she closed her eyes, chanted a spell under her breath, and a soft green light glowed from her palms.

Still, my body twitched. The pain wasn’t going.

"He’s fighting something," she said gravely. "Something dark is inside him."

"What is it?" my father barked. "What’s happening to him?!"

She placed both hands over my chest and whispered another incantation. This time, the glow turned faintly purple. Her eyes widened in realization.

"It’s a spell," she said sharply. "A powerful one. A dark, manipulative magic."

My mother gasped. Clara took a step back.

"What kind of spell?" my father demanded again.

The healer’s face darkened. "A love spell. Someone gave it to him through a kiss. But... it’s not working the way they expected."

"What do you mean?" my mother asked breathlessly.

"If he were just any wolf... the spell would’ve taken control of his mind and emotions instantly. But Nathan is born of the Alpha bloodline. His wolf and natural abilities are too strong. They’re resisting it, fighting it... That’s why his physical body is in so much pain."

My father’s fists clenched. "Someone tried to control my son through dark magic?!"

"I can sense it clearly now," the healer added. "It was meant to manipulate his emotions—make him obsess, submit, fall uncontrollably for that person. But his power is rejecting it. That rejection is what’s causing this damage."

There was a long, stunned silence.

Then Clara stepped forward slowly. A big frown etched on her face.

"I think I know who did it..."

Everyone turned to her.

"Who?" Dad asked sharply.

Clara glanced my way. "It’s Hailee, the cook’s daughter."

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