A Warrior’s Second Chance novel Chapter 373

FAYE

I stepped into the dining room, and the first thing I noticed was that Roman was already there, seated at the table, his posture straight, his hands resting in front of him… though he wasn’t eating yet.

“Good morning, Luna,” he said, his voice calm, steady.

“Good morning, Roman,” I replied, smoothing the hem of my top and trying to mask my surprise. I couldn’t help the small, almost mischievous smile that crept onto my face. It was rare to see Roman down here for breakfast–rare for him to step out of his routine.

“You came down for breakfast,” I said, sliding into the chair across from him. I raised my eyebrows slightly, trying not to sound too surprised, though I couldn’t help it.

Roman shrugged just slightly, a small tilt of his head that seemed casual, yet everything about the

movement suggested otherwise. “Just felt like doing something different today,” he replied, and there was that tiny smirk that suggested he knew it caught me off guard.

I nodded, still amused, and started to adjust my plate, moving my utensils into place.

Before I could even take the first bite, Alexander appeared at the doorway. My stomach gave a little lurch at the sight of him–already dressed, already that perfectly composed version of himself that somehow made him look like he belonged in a different world entirely.

He caught my gaze as he paused, and that small, knowing smile lifted his lips before he leaned down and pressed a quick, soft kiss to my temple.

“Morning,” he murmured, the warmth of his presence brushing against me in a way that made my chest feel a little lighter.

“Morning,” I said, my voice catching just a fraction, though I tried to sound casual.

“It’s fine,” I said automatically, brushing it off, though my mind lingered for a moment on how nervous he seemed, how unsettled. Alexander, on the other hand, didn’t react at all–he was already focused on his plate, eating casually as though the spill hadn’t happened.

I took a deep breath and began again, letting the words roll out in a slow, measured way. “It was probably just… a dream,” I said softly. “Just… odd. Strange, that’s all.”

Alexander, his curiosity piqued, tilted his head and set his fork down. “What kind of dream?” he asked, genuine interest flickering across his face.

I hesitated, glancing toward Roman briefly. His head was down, fingers fidgeting with the napkin he had balled up, and I could feel the unspoken question hanging in the air: should I even say this in front of him?

I considered holding back, leaving the dream tucked away in the corner of my mind where it wouldn’t disturb anyone, but something in me said it was okay. Roman was practically family; he’d never judge, and it was only a dream.