A Warrior’s Second Chance novel Chapter 274

FAYE

The door to the kitchen creaked open just as my hand closed around the doorknob.

Patrick’s mother stepped back into the living room with a tray, her movements careful. A glass sat at the center–dark liquid that looked like wine stirred in it.

She smiled when she saw me standing.

“Oh,” she said warmly, setting the glass on the table. “You’re leaving already?”

“Yes,” I replied, returning the smile easily.

Then her eyes shifted. The smile disappeared the moment she saw him.

Patrick lay crumpled on the floor, barely alive, his body twisted at an unnatural angle, fingers clawed into the carpet as if he’d tried to hold on to something solid while his insides melted slowly. He wasn’t even strong enough to make a sound.

Her breath hitched violently. “Patrick…?”

She rushed toward him, dropping to her knees, checking on him.

I didn’t bother rushing out, because she already knew everything. I had no reason to run now. So I waited for her next move.

She froze.

Slowly, she lifted her head and turned toward me.

The softness drained from her face like water poured out of a cracked bowl.

“I knew it,” she said hoarsely. “I knew something was wrong.”

Her eyes flashed.

Fangs bared, sharp and gleaming, her lips pulled back in a snarl.

She lunged.

I didn’t step back.

I caught her wrist mid–air and twisted, hard enough that she cried out, bones grinding together under my grip. She tried to rake her claws across my face with her free hand. I blocked it with my forearm and slammed her into the wall.

The impact was loud.

She was strong. Just not strong enough.

I grabbed her by the throat, her feet kicking uselessly as panic replaced rage in her eyes.

“You were going to poison me, weren’t you?” I said calmly.

She choked, struggling, claws scraping against my arm. I dragged her back toward the table, my gaze dropping to the glass–the one she’d carried in so carefully, the one she’d smiled over.

I released her only long enough to grab it.

She saw it then.

Real understanding.

“No-” she rasped, shaking her head violently. “Please-”

I forced the rim of the glass to her lips while holding her in place.

“Drink,” I said.

She fought. Thrashed. Tried to turn her head away.

I tightened my grip and tipped the glass.

The liquid spilled into her mouth, even though most of it ended up on her body.

She gagged, choking,

wallowing despite herself as I held her jaw shut until the glass was empty.

The moment I let go, she collapsed to the floor, coughing violently, hands clawing at her throat.

Her panic was immediate.

Her breathing turned erratic. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating fast, terror flooding her expression as her body began to betray her.

That was all the confirmation I needed.

My instincts had been right.

I watched her scramble toward Patrick, hands shaking as she tried to shake him again, as if he might wake up and fix this.

“You’ll pay for this,” she said.

I didn’t answer.

I stepped back, turning toward the door.

Behind me, her breaths turned into gasps. Then whimpers.

I returned to the pack house like nothing had happened.

Not rushed. Not hiding. Not unraveling.

Whole.

I believed that by now, Alexander would have seen my note, so it wasn’t going to be a surprising thing for anyone to see me walk in.

I straightened my shoulders as I entered, smoothing imaginary creases from my clothes, steadying my breath. My hands didn’t shake. My heart didn’t race. Whatever I had left behind out there stayed out there.

The kind of smile that didn’t invite questions.

“Well,” I said, reaching out to loop my arm through hers, “you know what they say about expectations.”

She snorted softly but let me pull her along as we started walking down the corridor together.

“You scared us,” she said after a beat. “When I realized you weren’t in your room…”

“I know,” I replied gently. “I’m sorry

She glanced at me. “Alexander tried not to panic.”

I arched a brow. “Tried?”

She laughed under her breath. “Emphasis on tried.”

That earned another smile from me, softer this time. I didn’t comment on it. Didn’t ask what he’d said or done.

Instead, I squeezed her arm lightly. “You know,” I said thoughtfully, “you’re very good at disappearing.”

She stopped short. “Excuse me?”

“And reappearing,” I added smoothly. “Always right when there’s chaos.”

Her mouth fell open in mock outrage. “That is a terrible thing to say.”

I turned toward her fully, eyes wide with feigned innocence. “Is it? Think about it. You vanish for hours- days sometimes–and then suddenly, there you are when there’s chaos.”

She stared at me for a second, then gasped dramatically. “How dare you.”

I smiled, unable to help myself.

“I’m serious,” I went on. “You have impeccable timing. It’s a talent.”

She scoffed, folding her arms. “I do not seek out chaos.”

“No,” I agreed. “Chaos seeks you.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then paused.

Her brows knit together as she actually considered it.

“… You know,” she said slowly, “now that I think about it…”

I bit my lip, waiting.

“…I can kind of see why you’d say that.”

I laughed then…really laughed. The sound surprised even me, light and unforced, bubbling up from somewhere unguarded.