A Warrior’s Second Chance novel Chapter 164

ALEXANDER

“Faye…” I managed to say before she cut in.

“You were just going to die quietly, weren’t you?” she asked.

She still stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, and tears already blurring her vision. She looked from me to her father, then to the healer, who instinctively lowered her head and stepped back.

“Faye,” I started again, my voice breaking before I could find the right words. “I…”

She took a slow step forward, her voice barely more than a whisper. “You said you were fine…

The crack in her tone gutted me.

“And this… this is what you meant?”

Her voice wavered on the last word, trembling like it was the only thing holding her together. I saw the tears spill before I could say anything.

“Faye, please…” I took a step toward her, but she shook her head sharply, backing away.

The look she gave me–hurt, disbelief, betrayal–cut deeper than any blade could. Her lips parted like she wanted to speak again, but no sound came. Then she turned, her breath catching, and ran before I could reach her.

“Faye!” I called, but the effort sent pain slicing through my chest. I staggered forward, gripping the edge of the table for balance.

Before I could push past the pain and go after her, a firm hand caught my arm.

“Let her be,” her father said quietly, his tone heavy with understanding. “She needs to process this.”

I hesitated, breathing hard, torn between guilt and the instinct to follow. But his eyes…steady and sorrowful…held me still.

Slowly, I let out a shaky breath and sank back into the chair, my strength fading. The room fell silent except for the pounding of my heart.

And I just sat there, staring at the door she’d fled through, the sound of her broken voice echoing in my head.

FAYE

I ran until I could hardly breathe, until the trees blurred past me and the ground beneath my feet felt like it was falling away. I didn’t know where I was going… only that I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t stand the sound of their voices, the pity in their eyes, the weight of that one unbearable truth ringing in my head.

He won’t see the next morning.

I dropped to the ground, my knees hitting the dirt again. My hands shook as I pressed them to my face, but the tears wouldn’t stop. They came harder, faster–sobs that tore through me until I couldn’t breathe.

“You can’t take him from me,” I whispered into my hands. “Please… not him. Not now.”

The forest didn’t answer. The goddess didn’t answer. Of course she didn’t.

I looked up through the trees, blinking through tears, the fading sunlight spilling through the leaves. My voice trembled as I spoke again. “Maybe you should take me too,” I said quietly.” Because I can’t live without him… I don’t want to.”

The words broke something in me the moment they left my lips.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold in the ache, but it only grew. My body trembled as sob after sob ripped out of me, until I was gasping for air.

The wind moved through the trees above me…gentle, indifferent…carrying away my words as if they meant nothing.

And there, in the heart of the forest, I broke–crying, begging for mercy that would never come. I fell forward, curling into the dirt, my body shaking as the grief poured out of me until there was nothing left but the sound of my own quiet, broken breathing.

“Take me too…” I whispered again. And I meant it.