A Warrior's Second Chance (Faye and Alexander) novel Chapter 226

FAYE

It was finally evening.

By the time the sun dipped low, the pack house felt alive in a way that only happened on nights that truly mattered. Lanterns glowed softly along the paths outside, music drifted faintly through open windows, and voices–laughter, greetings, reverent murmurs–rose and fell like a living pulse.

Almost everyone was here.

Not just those who lived within the pack house walls, but those who stayed farther out, on the

edges of the territory. The ones who didn’t always attend gatherings unless it was important.

Tonight was important.

Tonight was a celebration–for their Alpha, for his victory, for his continued leadership over Blood

Crescent.

Somehow, standing in the middle of all of it–or rather, just outside the center of it–it still felt

surreal that I belonged here. That I was part of this world. That I was his.

Alexander was already in the room when I found him, standing near the mirror as he worked on his outfit with quiet focus. I paused just inside the doorway without meaning to, the sight of him

stopping me in my tracks.

He was dressed in a dark grey suit that fit him far too well, paired with a black shirt underneath that made the color of his eyes look brighter, sharper. His jacket was still unbuttoned, his posture relaxed. And his hair–Moon Goddess, his hair–was styled just enough to look intentional without losing that natural edge, like he hadn’t tried too hard and didn’t need to.

Dangerously breathtaking. For some weird reason, I’ve been doing this a lot lately… admiring my

man.

I must have been staring longer than I realized, because without turning fully around, he spoke casually, as if he’d felt my gaze on him.

“You know I’m all yours, right?” he said. “You don’t have to admire me from afar.”

I froze.

Heat rushed straight to my face.

“Oh my…” I laughed, half mortified, half amused. “You’re too cocky for your own good, Alexander.”

He turned then, one brow lifting, lips curving into that familiar smug smile. “Am I wrong?”

“Yes,” I said firmly, stepping farther into the room. “Extremely.”

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Chapter 226

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He returned to his tie, fingers tugging at the fabric with mild impatience as his eyes flicked over me–slowly… thoroughly. Then he paused.

“You’re not dressed yet,” he observed. “The ceremony starts soon.”

I groaned softly. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

He waited, clearly expecting an explanation.

“My meeting with you and Cole took up the time I was supposed to use to decide what to wear,” I said. “By the time that ended, Irene had already gone into full control mode. We only just decided on something.”

He shook his head slightly. “I should’ve let you go earlier.”

“You absolutely should have,” I agreed. “But try telling you that when you’re focused.”

He hummed. “Fair.”

I stepped closer and reached for his tie. “Let me help you.”

His hands dropped instantly, surrendering the tie to me without hesitation. He moved closer- close enough that I could feel the warmth of him–and as I focused on straightening the fabric and adjusting the knot, his hands settled at my waist.

He wasn’t gripping hard. His hands were… just there.

Then his thumbs began tracing slow, lazy circles against my sides, and I had to fight the urge to inhale sharply.

“Alexander,” I warned lightly, eyes still on the tie. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to mess this up.”

“What am I doing?” he asked, far too innocently.

I snorted. “Don’t play innocent with me.”

“I genuinely don’t know what you mean,” he said smoothly, his hands continuing their quiet torture.

I glanced up, ready to call him out-

And he kissed me.

His mouth claimed mine, his hands tightening at my waist like he’d finally decided he’d teased me

long enough. My fingers curled into his jacket automatically, the tie forgotten as I leaned into him.

I kissed him back without hesitation, breath catching as the kiss deepened. He kissed like he

always did–like he knew exactly what he was doing–and I melted far too easily.

My heart raced… My skin warmed under his touch. My thoughts scattered immediately.

When he pulled back slightly, my lips parted without permission, breath uneven, and I hated how

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much I wanted him right then.

“Alexander,” I breathed, barely recognizing my own voice.

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“Yes, love,” he whispered, breathing unsteady. “You’re going to make it very difficult for me to leave

this room tonight.”

I smiled faintly, still breathless. “You started it.”

He chuckled softly–and then his phone rang.

The sound was abrupt, slicing straight through the moment.

He stilled.

I groaned quietly.

Alexander sighed, resting his forehead against mine for one second before pulling back and reaching for his phone. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening just slightly.

“I have to take this,” he said, regret clear in his eyes.

I nodded, even though disappointment flickered through me. “Go.”

He stepped aside, voice dropping as he answered the call, posture shifting back into Alpha mode

almost instantly. I didn’t hear much–only enough to know his attention was needed elsewhere,

something that couldn’t wait.

He ended the call sooner than I expected and turned back to me.

“I’ll be back,” he said firmly. “Just a moment.”

I smiled, my body still humming with want. “I know.”

He kissed my forehead this time–gentler. “Get ready. I don’t want you rushing.”

“I won’t,” I promised.

He hesitated, eyes lingering on me like he was committing the sight to memory, then finally left the

room.

I exhaled slowly.

A little sexually frustrated, yes… but not upset… just aware of everything my body still wanted and

wasn’t getting yet.

It wasn’t his fault.

Glancing at the time, I made my decision.

I would use the moment alone to take a bath and get ready properly for the ceremony.

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Chapter 226

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ALEXANDER

The call replayed in my mind with irritating clarity.

Patrick hadn’t been bluffing.

I almost laughed at the irony of it as I headed toward the office. The High Circle. Of all things… Patrick had actually taken the matter before the High Circle, like some wronged party clutching pearls and demanding justice.

Bold and stupid. Almost admirable in a deeply pathetic way.

Cole’s voice echoed in my memory from earlier: The Circle sent an official invitation. Sealed and everything.

An invitation.

As if this were some formal disagreement between equals and not the aftermath of a man who had tried to erase me from existence.

As I pushed open the office doors, Cole was already inside, leaning casually against my desk. He straightened the moment he saw me and let out a low whistle.

“Well, damn,” he said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think the ceremony was for how unfairly good you look in that suit.”

I huffed a short laugh, shrugging off my jacket and tossing it over the back of my chair. “Careful. Compliment me too much and people might start thinking you’re my mate.”

Cole grinned. “Wouldn’t be the strangest rumor this pack has heard.”

I glanced him over properly then. He was dressed well too–black suit, white shirt, hair pulled back neatly. “You’re not looking bad yourself,” I said. “I assume your mystery mate will be around to grace the occasion?”

His smirk widened, unmistakably smug. “I told you already. You’ll meet her in due time… no need to rush.”

“Of course,” I said dryly. “I’ll pretend I believe you.”

He smirked harder. “One day, Alpha, you’ll regret doubting me.”

“I doubt that,” I replied, moving around the desk and lowering myself into my chair. “Now. The invitation.”

Cole’s expression sobered as he reached into the folder he’d brought and handed me a sealed document. The mark of the High Circle sat boldly at the top–ancient, authoritative, and annoyingly self–important.

Chapter

I broke the seal and scanned the contents.

And there it was.

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Alpha Patrick of North Ridge, formally requesting the High Circle’s intervention regarding Blood Crescent’s severed alliance with North Ridge and unfair treatment toward the pack. Accusations

dressed up in legal language. Concern for “unjust actions.” A call for accountability.

I leaned back slowly, the corner of my mouth lifting!

Funny… truly funny.

This–this–was exactly why I hadn’t marched into his territory the moment I’d clawed my way back to life. Why I hadn’t torn down his gates, dragged him into the open, and killed him where everyone could see it.

Because how do you explain that?

How do you justify going to war when the reason is that someone murdered you… and you’re back to life?