Chapter 18: Deliberately Hurt yourself

Olivia’s POV

​I had planned it.

​Yes. I had. I didn’t actually slip and fall on the wet bathroom tiles like I claimed. Instead, I stood inside that steaming room, gripped my own right wrist, and smashed my forearm directly against the hard edge of the marble wall with everything I had.

​Was that crazy? Absolutely.

​Did I regret it? At the moment, with pain shooting through my right arm so badly that tears wouldn’t stop falling from my eyes, maybe a little. But I had been desperate.

​Call me crazy. Call me desperate. But I had to do it.

​It was the only way out. I needed a reason—a bulletproof excuse—so I wouldn’t be forced to play that damn violin. I mean, who could possibly play a delicate, demanding instrument with a broken right arm?

​Lucian expected me to play the violin tonight in front of his entire pack and all the important guests attending the festival. There was only one small problem. I couldn’t play the violin. Not even a little.

​Princess Annabel could. She had started learning when she was six. I had watched her play hundreds of times over the years, and she had been incredible at it. She could pick up a violin and make everyone in the room stop talking just to listen.

​Me? I could barely hold one correctly, and there was no way I could suddenly learn before tonight. So I had needed a reason not to play—a very good reason.

​Apparently, my desperate brain had decided that breaking my own arm was the perfect solution. Brilliant, I know.

​I had stood inside the bathroom for almost ten minutes trying to gather the courage to do it. The first time, I had stopped myself. The second time, I had barely hit the wall. The third time, I closed my eyes and slammed my right arm against the hard stone with all the strength I could gather.

​A sharp pain shot through my arm and traveled all the way to my shoulder. I had nearly screamed the entire mansion down.

​Now, sitting on the edge of the bed with my arm pressed tightly against my chest, I was beginning to question every decision I had ever made in my life. But at least I wouldn’t have to play the violin. Hopefully.

​A healer could fix injuries much faster than normal medicine, but even healing magic had limits. A broken bone wouldn’t become completely fine within minutes. The bone could be repaired, but the throbbing pain and weakness would remain for at least a day or two. That was all I needed—two days of pure immunity. The festival would be over, my secret would remain safe, and I would never have to do something this stupid again.

​At least, that was the plan.

​What I hadn’t planned for was having two massive Alphas standing in my bedroom, nearly tearing each other apart over me while I sat here shivering in a towel.

​I clutched my injured arm, pulling the towel tighter around myself with my good hand as Alpha Lucian and Alpha King Lucas stood almost chest to chest. The pressure in the room became so heavy that I could almost feel their Alpha auras pushing against my skin.

​"I decide what happens under my roof," Lucian growled, his voice like grinding stones.

​"Not when you’re making stupid decisions just to prove you’re in control," Lucas fired back.

​Lucian stepped closer, his presence filling the entire room like a storm. Lucas didn’t move an inch. Neither man seemed to remember I was even there anymore.

​"Enough!"

​Lady Rebecca’s loud, commanding voice cut through the room, instantly snapping the dangerous tension between her sons.

​Both men went silent. Lady Rebecca walked fully into the bedroom, looking between her sons with anger written across her face.

​"Both of you," she said sharply. "Enough."

​She stepped between them, and then her eyes turned and locked onto me.

​The way she looked at me sent a cold shiver straight down my spine. It wasn’t hatred burning in her gaze—I was getting used to hatred in this mansion, like the looks the servants and guards gave me. But Lady Rebecca wasn’t looking at me with hatred or disgust. She looked... afraid. Pure, undeniable fear.

​Why would a powerful Alpha’s mother be afraid of me?

​Her eyes moved over my face before dropping briefly to my injured arm, and then she quickly looked away, turning back to her younger son.

​"Lucian," she said.

​Lucian glared down at me with absolute contempt. "What?"

​"Send for your healer."

​"No."

​"Her arm may be broken," Lady Rebecca urged, her voice tight. "And she’s clearly in pain."

​"She’ll survive," Lucian growled without a single trace of pity. "She isn’t dying."

​My mouth almost fell open. This man was a beast. He was completely heartless, staring at my swollen arm as if I were a mild annoyance he wanted to scrape off his boot.

​Lady Rebecca stared at her son in disbelief. "Does she need to be dying before you show her basic kindness?"

​His eyes darkened. "Mother."

​"No. Don’t Mother me."

​For some reason, Lucas looked like he was trying very hard not to smile behind his mother’s back.

​Lady Rebecca pointed toward me. "Look at her, Lucian. Look at her."

​Slowly, those dark green eyes landed directly on mine, and my body stiffened. I looked down, unable to meet his cold stare.

​Lady Rebecca took a step closer to him. "This is not how I raised you, Lucian. There was a time when your father’s anger controlled him. A time when he hurt people because he refused to see past that anger." Her eyes hardened. "Don’t become the man your father fought so hard to stop being."

​The air in the room went completely still.

​Lucian’s head snapped toward her, his expression darkening. Even Lucas’s face became serious.

​"Mother," Lucian warned, his jaw tightening. "Don’t use Father’s past against him."

​"I’m not," she replied calmly. "I’m reminding you that he learned from it. Your father spent years becoming a better man because he understood what his anger had cost him." Her eyes hardened as she looked at Lucian. "So don’t stand there and repeat the same mistakes he fought so hard to leave behind."

​Lucian’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

​"I raised you better than this," she continued. "Being feared doesn’t mean you have to be cruel every chance you get."

​Lucian stared at her, his jaw working silently as he clamped down on his rage. Nobody spoke. I barely breathed.

​For the first time since meeting him, I saw something pass through his eyes—a flicker of deep conflict—before he slammed a wall down over it. His face became cold and unreadable again.

​He turned toward a terrified maid hovering near the doorway. "Get the healer," he barked sharply.

​The maid jumped. "Yes, Alpha! Right away!" She rushed down the hallway.

​Lucian looked at me one last time, keeping his expression cold and distant. Without another word, he turned around and stormed out of the room, his heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor.

​Lady Rebecca released a quiet breath. "I’ll make sure the healer comes quickly."

​"Thank you," I whispered softly.

​Her eyes met mine again, and there it was—that strange, fearful look. She turned quickly and followed Lucian out, leaving the door open.

​That left Lucas.

​I suddenly became very aware that I was alone in a bedroom with an Alpha King while wearing nothing but a bath towel. I tightened my grip on the fabric.

​Lucas didn’t leave. He stood near the foot of my bed, his sharp eyes slowly sweeping over me, traveling down to my swollen, bruised right arm. He stared at it for a long, silent moment.

​"Is something wrong?" I asked quietly, my heart starting to beat faster.

​He didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed on my arm before slowly lifting to my face.

​"You didn’t fall," Lucas said softly.

​My heart stopped, dropping straight into my stomach. "What?"

​Lucas took a slow step closer to the bed, his eyes locked onto mine. "That injury isn’t from a fall. You deliberately hit your arm against the wall."

​I gasped softly, my breath hitching as panic surged through me. How could he possibly know?

​Lucas stopped directly in front of me, leaning down slightly as his voice dropped low.

​"So tell me, Princess... why did you deliberately hurt yourself?"

​Shit.