A Warrior's Second Chance (Faye and Alexander) novel Chapter 113

Chapter 113

ALEXANDER

Claim

The light from the moon didn’t soothe; it scraped. It pressed through stone and iron as if the sky itself wanted in.

I’d felt it coming for days… a tightening under my ribs. Adrian paced the edges of my mind with a hunger that didn’t bother to hide its teeth.

That was why I had chosen one of my family’s strongholds. Why I’d ordered the chains. Old wards carved into the lintels, ancestor–ink worked into the mortar. Cole had argued until he was hoarse, then done as I asked: iron wrapped in runes, bolts scored into the bedrock.

The links bit where they touched, leaving red welts where metal met skin. Heavy enough to teach a wolf humility.

They should have been enough.

When the moon crested, everything changed. Sweat trickled down my spine, pooling at the small of my back. My muscles tightened until each breath felt like sand in my throat.

The chains groaned. Adrian tested them–each scrape inside my skull a promise and a threat.

“Let me out.”

“No,” I rasped, though the word tasted thinner than it had yesterday.

Pain answered me… white flashes, a locked jaw. For a heartbeat I thought the room itself would split: bone and will pulling in opposite directions.

I imagined the pack safe, warriors steady, Faye standing among them. That image kept me upright when everything else wanted to fall.

Then I heard it.

A howl cut through the night.

It tore past the wards, through the iron, through the last thin curtain of restraint I had left. Not a song of joy… but a call for blood. A call for aid.

“Faye,” I breathed. My lungs filled with guilt and something raw, protective…something that had no patience for chains.

Another howl came, closer this time. Louder.

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Chapter 113

I pulled. The iron screamed.

I broke.

There was only one thing left. I stopped resisting.

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Adrian surged forward, triumphant, molten power ripping through me as I let him take over. Bones cracked, muscles tore and reformed. The chains shattered into twisted scraps across

the stone floor. My body reshaped, fur bursting across skin, claws cutting into stone.

The howl that ripped out of me shook the stronghold.

And then I was running.

The forest blurred beneath me, branches snapping, earth splitting under my paws. Each heartbeat matched the pounding ground, each breath dragged me closer.

Blood. Fire. Enemies.

And Faye. Her scent was a tether, pulling me straight into the heart of the storm.

FAYE

Alexander appeared bigger than any wolf I’d ever seen. Seeing him in his wolf form for the

first time left me lost for a moment.

Relief slid into me fast and hard…but something about his appearance made me nervous. There was nothing measured about his approach, no careful assessment–only the concentrated force of something built to hunt and break.

His fur was darker than night, threaded with silver where the moonlight struck. He didn’t run so much as become motion itself.

The attackers faltered the instant they saw him…a small, crucial pause…and he used it against them. The first wolf that lunged was gone in the space of a breath; Alexander’s jaws snapped, and the sound was a sick, wet crack. It shouldn’t have been possible for one body to wreak so much damage so quickly, and yet there it was: flesh tearing, a terrible silence where a throat had once been. He didn’t look back. He just moved on.

I had fought. I had seen men break and other wolves fall. I’d watched blood and bone and heard howls like funerals. But whatever I had experienced counted for little against the spectacle in front of me. This wasn’t battlecraft. This was something different, something that seemed to exist only to dominate.

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< Chapter 113

And it worked.

Claim

The air itself shifted when Alexander tore into the enemy. Our wolves, the ones who had been pinned down and bleeding, straightened as if yanked to their feet. His arrival wasn’t just seen…it was felt.

The pack’s movements sharpened, their strikes more precise, as though his strength had poured straight into their veins. Even the injured found breath again, howling as if to say, the Alpha is here.

It was more than leadership. It was authority, absolute and undeniable, coursing through the bond we all shared. He didn’t need to command. His very presence bent the battlefield to his

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