A Warrior’s Second Chance novel Chapter 258

FAYE

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I pushed the door open, but Cole was still there.

For a split second, I hesitated in the doorway… wondering if I should go on or go back, because I didn’t want to have to answer any questions.

Cole noticed me immediately.

He straightened from behind the desk and stood up, polite and alert in that way he always was when duty kicked in. “Luna,” he said, nodding once. Do you need anything?”

I knew what I looked like. I could feel it in the tightness of my jaw, the dull ache behind my eyes, the way my shoulders were drawn just a little too high. wasn’t my usual calm, careful self. I probably looked like I’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed–assuming I’d slept at all, which was debatable. And the look on Cole’s face told me he noticed that too.

“I’m fine,” I said, though it came out clipped. Then, without waiting for him to respond, I moved further into the room.

As I walked toward the bookshelves lining the wall, started talking, more to fill the space than because I had a clear plan. “I’m looking to research something,” I said. “I tried searching online first, but there wasn’t much. Nothing… adequate.”

Old school, then.

My fingers brushed the spines of the books as I passed, familiar titles jumping out at me. Cole followed a few steps behind, his presence quiet but noticeable.

“What are you looking for?” he asked. “I can help, if you tell me.”

I stopped in front of one of the shelves and stared at it longer than necessary. That was the problem–I wasn’t even sure how to explain what I was looking for. The words felt slippery in my head, refusing to line up neatly.

Since I’d overheard Alexander’s conversation with Irene, my thoughts hadn’t settled for a single moment. The ritual they’d mentioned, the careful way Irene had spoken, the way Alexander’s voice had gone cold and controlled–it all replayed in my mind on a loop. I kept thinking about the blood they’d talked about. About gifts. About why it had to be me.

I swallowed and shook my head slightly. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “At least… not sure how to explain it.”

Cole studied me for a moment. His expression softened for some reason, then he nodded. He didn’t push… didn’t pry.

“All right,” he said calmly. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

He turned and went back to his seat behind the desk, leaving me alone with the shelves and my thoughts. I nodded once, more to myself than to him, and reached for the first book.

Most of them were familiar.

I’d seen these shelves before–really seen them–when I’d helped Alexander research Marcus’s ring. Back then, everything had felt focused, purposeful. We’d known what we were looking for, even if we didn’t know where it would lead. Now, flipping through the pages, I could already tell the

nature of most of the content.

Ancient pack laws. Territorial disputes. Lineage records. Rituals of protection and binding. History written by those who’d survived long enough to record it.

Some titles were obviously irrelevant to what I needed, but I still opened them, skimming pages for the sake of it. Sometimes answers hid where you least expected them. Or at least, that’s what I told myself as I kept searching.

A few books caught my attention–two, maybe three. There was something about them I couldn’t quite name. The symbols on the spines were unfamiliar, the bindings older. I pulled them free and hugged them to my chest before moving toward the couch, settling into a seat a short distance from Cole.

I worked through them one after one.

There were rituals, yes–but not the right ones. Ceremonies meant to strengthen bonds between packs. Blood rites that sealed alliances. Old magic that relied on sacrifice, but not like this. Every time I thought I was getting close, my hope collapsed under the weight of a wrong detail, a mismatched purpose.

Different ritual.

Cole knew too.

I saw it in the way his eyes shifted, in the way his expression stilled. There was no confusion there. No disbelief.

Awareness.

A strange mix of embarrassment and frustration tightened in my chest. I was suddenly sure he thought I was overthinking things–stressing myself unnecessarily, chasing shadows.

But he didn’t say any of that.

Instead, he nodded once. “You won’t find anything like that on this shelf,” he said simply.

I blinked. “I won’t?”

“No,” he replied. “Anything that dark, anything that specific, wouldn’t be kept here. Not in plain reach.”

That made an uncomfortable amount of sense.

“There is a place,” he continued, “where you might find something similar. Or at least references. It’s in town. About two hours from here. Less, if the roads are clear.”

My pulse picked up. “Where?” I asked immediately

Cole didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take you,” he said. “I’m not busy.”