A Warrior’s Second Chance novel Chapter 271

After Helen stepped out, the door closing softly behind her, Irene turned back to Alexander.

“Alexander.”

He didn’t look up. “What.”

She hesitated, then said gently, “She’s still our mother. And that was her grandchild too. She’s mourning in her own way. She doesn’t mean any harm.”

Alexander rubbed a hand over his face, dragging his fingers down slowly as he exhaled. The last thing he wanted right now was to be made to feel guilty. His head was already heavy, his chest tight with too many things he hadn’t allowed himself to feel.

“Irene,” he said tiredly, “I really can’t do this right now.”

She opened her mouth, probably to keep explaining, but he straightened slightly and cut in.

“Faye’s in the room,” he said. “If you want to see her, you can. You can take Mom with you too.”

Irene blinked, surprised.

“But,” he added calmly, finally lifting his eyes to hers, “if anything goes wrong–anything at all -I will hold you responsible.”

She searched his face for a moment, then nodded. “I understand.”

Some of the tension eased from her shoulders. She stepped closer, leaned down, and kissed his cheek softly. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Outside the office, Irene had barely taken a few steps down the hallway when she heard raised voices.

At first, she paid them no mind.

Then she heard a name.

“…Diana.”

Irene stopped immediately.

Her attention snapped fully to the conversation. One of the guards was speaking, his tone strained. “I already told her she couldn’t come in,” he said. “She insisted on seeing the Alpha.” Irene didn’t hesitate.

She stepped forward. “Go back to the gate,” she said. “Tell her she is not allowed inside until further notice. That is final.”

The guards stiffened at once. “And don’t bother the Alpha again,” Irene continued, irritation sharp in her tone. “If he’s already made it clear she isn’t welcome, what exactly are you still coming to ask him for?” “Yes,” the guard said quickly, already turning to leave.

“Good.” She waved him off. “Go.” DIANA I told myself I was doing the right thing. That was the thought I clung to as I walked toward the pack house gates minutes ago. I wasn’t here to cause trouble. I wasn’t here to intrude. I was here to offer condolences.

That was reasonable. That was expected. The Alpha had lost a child. An accident, they said. A miscarriage. Tragic. I wasn’t heartless enough to ignore that. And besides–this was my pack too. “Maybe you didn’t get me.

I said I’m here to see the Alpha,” I repeated calmly, even though I was running out of patience. “I came to pay my condolences. I heard about the Luna’s accident.” One of them shifted, exchanging a glance with the other before looking back at me.

“And I say you can’t go in.” I blinked. “Excuse me?” At this point, I realized this was more serious than I thought. “You can’t enter the pack house right now,” he repeated. I felt heat spark under my skin. “And why exactly is that?” I asked, keeping my tone level.

“I’m a full member of this pack, just like anyone else. I have every right to be here.” They didn’t budge.

“I’m not here to bother anyone,” I continued, irritation bleeding through despite my effort. “I’m here to offer my condolences. That’s all.”

And to apologize, I added silently.

To Alexander.

For yesterday. For the kiss I shouldn’t have initiated. For crossing a line I knew existed but chose to ignore anyway. I didn’t say that part out loud. I wasn’t stupid. But it sat heavy in my chest, a restless ache I hadn’t been able to shake since it happened.

Still, they refused to move aside.

My hands curled into fists. “Fine,” I snapped. “Then at least tell the Alpha I’m here. If I’m being punished for something, if I’m suddenly not allowed into my own pack house, then he should be the one to say it to my face.”

That was fair. That was how things worked.

I looked past them, scanning the compound, the entrance, every familiar stretch, half–expecting–half–hoping–to see him emerge. To see Alexander.

He never came.

Minutes stretched. The silence pressed in, heavy and humiliating. The guards remained unmoved, like statues placed there to remind me exactly where I stood.

The idea made my chest tighten painfully.

That was why I was here. Not to mourn a child I didn’t care about, but to set things straight. To apologize. To make sure Alexander knew I hadn’t meant to hurt him. That I hadn’t meant to cross that boundary. That I still cared.

That I always had.

Nothing–nothing–was going to stop me from seeing him today.

I turned back toward the gate.

“I said let me in,” I demanded, my patience finally snapping. “You have no right to keep me out.”

The younger guard opened his mouth, probably to repeat the same useless refusal.

I didn’t let him.

The sound of the slap echoed. My palm connected with his face, sharp and sudden, the sting shooting up my arm even as his head snapped to the side.

For a split second, everything froze.

I saw his jaw tighten, his fists clench at his sides, his whole body bracing like he was fighting instinct. He took a breath through his nose, eyes dark with restrained anger.

“What the hell?” Irene’s voice came.

Before I could process what was going on, she slapped me hard across the face.

The impact came from my left.

Pain exploded across my face, white–hot and disorienting. The force of the slap sent me stumbling, my balance completely gone, my vision blurring as the world tilted violently.

I didn’t even have time to scream.

The ground rushed up to meet me as my body hit hard, and I fell to the ground.