hapter 147: Psychotherapy
(Olivia’s POV)
“Miss Blackwood, relax.” The female healer’s voice echoed softly in my ears.
I gripped the armrests of the healing chair tightly, my knuckles white. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead as my eyes remained closed, lost in the depths of my mind.
The Trauma Recovery Room felt distant, like I was floating somewhere between consciousness and dreams.
In my mind, I saw myself as a young girl, standing in front of the Crimson pack house. Theodore was there too, young and
handsome.
“You’re safe now,” his younger self had whispered, and I had believed him completely.
The scene shifted. I watched our whirlwind romance unfold like pages in a book. Our mating ceremony, the joy in his eyes when I told him I was pregnant with Leo, the overwhelming happiness when our son was born.
Then the dream took a darker turn.
I was pregnant again, my belly round with Rose. The manor stairs stretched before me, wooden and polished.
A piercing scream rang out – my own voice.
“Follow the sound,” the healer’s voice guided me gently. “What do you see?”
I watched in horror as my pregnant self tumbled down the stairs. Blood spread beneath me like spilled wine on marble.
At the top of the stairs stood Leo, barely a toddler, his small hands still reaching toward where his toy car had been.
The red toy car rolled to my feet, now stained with my blood.
My last conscious thought in the dream was for my son. Not blame, just love and fear for what he might think he had
done.
Then darkness claimed me.
I awoke with a violent start, curling into a ball on the healing chair. My body trembled as deep, aching pain consumed my
heart.
“Tell me what you saw,” the healer’s soothing voice prompted.
“I stepped on my son’s toy car,” I stammered through tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “I fell down the stairs. I lost my daughter.”
The guilt crashed over me in waves. “It wasn’t Leo’s fault. He was just a baby. He didn’t know.”
“Miss Blackwood,” the healer said gently, “your daughter’s heartbeat was already very weak in the womb. The fall didn’t
cause her death. It was an accident.”
Her words hit me like lightning, illuminating a truth I had never considered.
The tangled threads of blame in my mind suddenly found a new anchor. My grief morphed into something cold and sharp
– rage.
“If he had told me earlier that my physical condition didn’t allow for childbirth, I wouldn’t have conceived Rose,” I said, my voice shaking with fury.
“He made me lose my daughter. He almost made my son the accomplice to my daughter’s death. It’s his fault!”
“You are the victim here,” the healer affirmed. “You have a clear conscience.”
She administered some calming moonlight herb aromatherapy, the familiar scent filling my nostrils.
“Rest now,” she whispered. “The Alpha King will be here to pick you up later.”
Sleep pulled me under like a gentle tide.
(Theodore’s POV)
The healer stepped out of the room and approached the Alpha King’s guards waiting in the corridor.
“The session is complete,” she informed them professionally.
Then she moved to a side door leading to the healing garden. I waited there in the shadows, my heart pounding.
“You only have ten minutes,” she whispered, opening the door for me.
I had arranged this through Declan Shaw, calling in every favor I had. Just ten minutes to see her, to try to make things
right.
I walked into the healing room on silent feet. Olivia lay sleeping peacefully in the chair, but tear tracks still glistened on her
pale cheeks.
My heart shattered at the sight.
I sat beside her carefully, afraid to wake her too soon. Gently, I took her hand in mine.
“My love,” I murmured, the words escaping before I could stop them.
(Olivia’s POV)
The familiar scent of cedarwood filled my senses. That voice, so achingly familiar, stirred me from my medicated slumber.
My mind, still hazy from the moonlight herb, believed I was dreaming.
Acting on pure instinct, I raised my hand and slapped him across the face.
The sharp c***k jolted me to full awareness. I snatched my hand back, staring at Theodore’s shocked expression.
My eyes turned cold as winter. “It’s your fault.”
“You hid my physical condition from me and made me lose my daughter.”
Theodore’s face crumpled with regret. “It’s my fault,” he said, his voice thick with self–loathing. “My decision hurt you. Let
me compensate you, okay?”
I laughed, but the sound held no humor. “My daughter’s life – what can you use to compensate me?”
“My life,” he begged desperately. “Let me use my life to atone for my sins.”
“In your dreams,” I scoffed.
(Theodore’s POV)
Panic drove me to pull out a stack of documents I had brought. My hands shook as I showed her the deeds to her mother’s companies and properties.
“Mother’s inheritance,” I explained frantically. “I never touched it.”
I produced a black card containing the massive payout from Lyra’s life insurance.
“She made me the beneficiary because she was afraid you couldn’t handle the truth of her passing. I was just keeping it
Then I presented her with Lyra’s last will, the paper yellowed with age.
Olivia’s eyes fell upon her mother’s familiar handwriting. I watched her read each word carefully.
The last line seemed to strike her to the core: Theodore, if one day Olivia wants to leave you. Please, as an older brother, take good care of her for Auntie, and please respect her, don’t force her.
A single tear fell from her eye onto the fragile paper.
She panicked, trying to wipe it away before it could damage this last piece of her mother.
Seeing her vulnerability, I was overcome by a tidal wave of longing. I pulled her into a fierce embrace.
“My love, I miss you so much,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
I don’t want to comply with the will’s request for me to become a brother. All I could think about was having her back.
“Come with me, okay? I’ll cure you.” I held her as if I’d never let go.
At that moment, I heard sounds outside. Footsteps. A familiar voice.
“Where is my mate?” Matthew’s voice carried through the door.
The therapist answered in a panic: “Alpha King, your partner is resting inside.”
Suddenly, Olivia let out a heart–wrenching scream.
