A Warrior's Second Chance (Faye and Alexander) novel Chapter 486

Chapter 485

THIRD POV

Helen did not speak immediately after Kyle left the room.

Clair

The silence that followed was heavy, but it was not unfamiliar to her. She had lived long enough in the world of wolves, rituals, and consequences to recognize the weight of waiting Still, tonight felt different. It felt stretched, like something fragile had been pulled too far and was seconds away from snapping.

Faye lay on the bed without movement.

Still.

Helen stood for a moment, simply watching her.

Then she moved. Carefully.

She stepped closer to the bed and reached for the edge of the fabric covering Faye’s body. Her movements were not rushed, but they were precise, as though she was trying to preserve something that could still slip away if handled incorrectly.

She began by removing the outer layer of clothing Faye still had on, folding it aside with controlled care. There was no hesitation in her actions, only focus. The kind of focus that came when emotion had already settled into acceptance and only responsibility remained.

Once that was done, Helen reached for a clean bowl of water that had been prepared earlier and brought it closer to the bedside. She dipped a cloth into it and wrung it gently before beginning to clean Faye’s skin.

Her movements were slow, careful, almost reverent.

She wiped the faint traces of dust and residue from Faye’s arms first, then her hands, then carefully moved to her face. When she reached her face, she paused briefly.

Strands of hair had fallen loose across Faye’s cheeks and forehead, partially obscuring her features. Helen reached out and gently moved them aside, tucking them back so her face was fully visible.

For a moment, she simply looked at her.

And in that moment, something shifted in her expression.

The rigid control softened slightly.

Helen’s gaze lingered longer than it should have for a healer or a guardian overseeing a ritual

Chapter 485

outcome. There was something deeper in the way she looked at Faye now, something personal that she did not allow herself to acknowledge openly.

Her thoughts drifted without her trying to stop them.

The first time Alexander had brought Faye to her home came back to her clearly.

Helen remembered it with unsettling clarity.

She had not been sure about Faye.

Not immediately.

She had concerns–serious ones.

Clain

A mate chosen too quickly. A bond formed without consulting the elders, without structure. Without the careful consideration that leadership demanded.

And Alexander had never been impulsive in matters of alliance.

Until Faye.

That had unsettled her more than anything.

She had expected resistance from herself when she met the girl.

Expected to see recklessness or immaturity or something that justified her doubts.

Instead, she had seen something else entirely.

Faye had not tried to impress her.

Had not tried to prove anything.

She had simply been present.

Quiet strength. Softness that did not weaken her.

And a kind of steadiness that made sense in a way Helen had not been prepared for.

Helen exhaled slowly as she continued wiping Faye’s arms, her movements never stopping.

Back then, she had understood.

That her son had not made a careless choice.

He had made a dangerous one–but a real one.

And Helen, for all her caution, had accepted it.

A faint sigh left her now as she returned fully to the present.

“Alexander…” she murmured under her breath, almost unconsciously.

It was past midnight.

And yet there was no way to reach him.

Not in moments like this.

When Alexander moved like this, the world narrowed around him. Phone calls meant nothin Distance meant nothing. Only the objective mattered.

And right now, Helen knew exactly what that objective was.

Roman.

Her hands paused briefly over Faye’s wrist, then resumed their steady motion.

Helen reached for a small container placed nearby and opened it carefully. Inside was a prepared ointment–thick, measured, designed for preservation and stabilization in conditions like this.

She dipped her fingers into it and began applying it gently over Faye’s skin.

First her arms, then her shoulders.

Then carefully along her hands.

Each movement was patient.

The room remained quiet except for the faint sounds of movement and breath.

Helen did not rush.

She could not afford to.

Because everything now depended on time holding still long enough for the others to return.

Then-

A sound.

Outside.

A vehicle approaching.

Helen paused instantly, her hand still resting lightly on Faye’s arm.

Her head turned slightly toward the window.

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Chapter 485

The sound grew closer, then stopped.

Her breath tightened slightly.

Alexander?

That was the first thought.

And behind it came another.

Roman?

She did not move immediately.

Cla

Instead, she remained seated beside Faye, her hand still on her skin, as if grounding herself in the responsibility she had already begun.

Another sound followed outside.

Movement. It sounded urgent.

Like something was being rushed.

Helen stood slowly, her expression sharpening as she stepped away from the bed.

She moved toward the door and opened it just enough to see outside.

And there…

She saw them.

Kyle and Alexander.

Bringing Roman.

Her breath caught slightly.

Roman was barely conscious.

Injured.

His body visibly strained as they carried him in, his movements weak and unsteady, a faint sound of pain escaping him despite his attempt to stay aware.

Helen stepped back immediately, clearing space as they entered.

They moved quickly through the corridor and into the room where Faye lay.

Her eyes locked immediately onto Roman’s condition.

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His state was worse than she had expected.

Blood.

Exhaustion.

The unmistakable strain of something far beyond normal physical injury.

Helen’s voice cut through the moment, sharp but controlled.

“What happened to him?”

Alexander stepped further into the room with Roman still supported between him and Kyle

Roman’s breathing was uneven, shallow, punctuated by low, strained sounds that suggest he was fighting not just pain, but exhaustion that had gone far beyond his limits. His body trembled slightly with each step, his weight barely held upright.

Helen moved immediately closer, her eyes narrowing as she assessed him without hesitation.

Alexander spoke first, his voice controlled but tight.

“He was stabbed with a silver blade,” he said. “I’m not sure if it was spelled… or poisoned.”

Helen did not respond immediately. She was already observing the wound, her attention fixe on the injury rather than the explanation. Her gaze tracked the way Roman’s body reacted to it–the way his muscles tightened, the way his breathing shifted under strain, the way his instincts flared weakly beneath the pain.

She leaned slightly closer, examining the wound more carefully.

Then she straightened.

“No,” Helen said calmly.

Alexander looked at her immediately.

Helen continued, still focused.

“It isn’t spelled. And it isn’t poisoned.”

A brief pause.

Her eyes flicked once more over Roman’s condition, confirming her conclusion.

“It’s just silver,” she added. “Pure exposure. That’s what’s causing this reaction.”

The ten

ader’s posture shifted instantly.

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Chapter 485

Not gone–but loosened.

Relief was subtle in him, but it was there. A controlled exhale followed, his should just slightly as the immediate fear of something more complicated lifted.

Helen noticed it but said nothing about it.

Instead, she stepped aside, giving space for Roman to be carefully lowered.

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