A Warrior's Second Chance (Faye and Alexander) novel Chapter 129

The word sank deep into me. I sat very still, staring at her, trying to process it. I had come here half certain I was chasing shadows, half hoping she would laugh at me for even asking. But she didn’t laugh. She didn’t deny it..she admitted it.

I leaned back slowly, my chest tightening. “So it’s true,” I said quietly. “There’s another child.”

My mother looked uneasy, her hands twisting together. “Alexander…”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” My voice came out steadier than I felt at the moment.

She sighed, her eyes heavy with guilt. “Because I thought it didn’t matter, I didn’t want you burdened with the consequences of your father’s mistake..”

I looked at her, searching her face for even the smallest sign that she was hiding more. “You thought It didn’t matter? What does that even mean?”

She nodded faintly. “I needed to…the weight was too much for me to dwell on, Alexander. Not just going back to her, but having a child with her…I couldn’t keep living in the wound it left. And you–you were just a boy. I wanted you to grow without that shadow over your head.”

I sat forward, elbows on my knees, running a hand over my jaw. “So all these years, you

carried it alone.”

“Yes.” Her voice was small. “And I secretly wished it would all fade away. But now that you’re asking….I guess it never did.”

I let out a slow breath. I couldn’t say I understood, but I couldn’t say I didn’t either. She had tried to protect me in her own way, even if it left me blind now.

“I needed the truth,” I said finally. “Not protection from it. Now I’m faced with a battle I never prepared for.”

She froze. “What do you mean? What battle are you talking about?”

I just shook my head. I wasn’t in the mood to spell it out at the moment, and she was considerate enough not to push me.

Her eyes closed briefly, and then she sighed.

I raked a hand through my hair in frustration. The silence between us felt like a test, daring

1/4

1

me to leave the question buried. But I couldn’t.

“How old would he be?”

Claims

She exhaled slowly. There was hesitation in her eyes, the kind that said she wasn’t certain of

the details she held.

“I was never given much,” she admitted quietly. “Your father kept those details to himself. But from what little I pieced together… he would have already been a boy when you came along.

Her words landed like a stone in my stomach. Already a boy. That meant older… He was older than me.

I swallowed hard, but my throat still felt dry. The title I’d worn my entire life…the firstborn, the heir, the one to carry our father’s name and weight…suddenly felt… altered. There was someone else out there who had come first, even if the world never spoke of him… legitimate

or not, he existed.

I didn’t ask for more. I couldn’t.

Instead, I stood. My mother looked up at me, calm still, but I could see the faint sadness in her eyes. Maybe regret. Maybe relief that the truth was no longer hers alone to bear.

“Thank

you for telling me,” I said, the words were cold, but it was all I could manage.

I didn’t accuse her further, but my disappointment was clear enough. She knew it. I could see it in the way her shoulders shifted, like the weight she carried only grew heavier.

I turned before the silence could stretch too far.

Her eyes followed me as I straightened, and before I could take a step, her hand reached for mine. Her grip was gentle… just enough to hold me still.

“I am sorry, Alexander,” she said softly. “I should have told you sooner… I should never have let it stay buried this long.”

I wanted to let my anger spill, to ask her how many other truths she had tucked away, how many other secrets of my father’s she had quietly shouldered. But the words stayed in my

throat,

I was angry, I was disappointed. But if I let myself unravel here, I knew I’d say things I couldn’t take back.

So instead, I gave a single nod. A gesture, nothing more. Then I pulled my hand free as gently as she had taken it, and turned for the door.

2/4

Chaptm: 120

Leaving felt like the only way to keep control of myself.

cram

I didn’t even remember half the steps it took to get out of my mother’s house. One moment her hand was in mine, her apology echoing in my ears, and the next I was already behind the wheel, the engine humming beneath me.

The road stretched ahead, but my mind wasn’t on it. My grip on the steering wheel was tight, almost painful, as if holding on harder would stop everything inside me from spilling over.

So he existed. Someone out there–older than me, carrying the same blood, carrying my father’s name in his veins even if not in title. And my mother had known. Not everything, maybe, but enough….yet she kept silent all these years.

I tried to reason with myself, to make sense of it. She said it was hidden from her too. But the truth didn’t settle, It crawled under my skin and stayed there. Because even when she found out for sure, she chose to carry it alone instead of telling me. I felt like an i***t

I hated how much it stung.

All my life, I had believed I understood my place–who I was, the weight of my father’s name, the duties that came with it. I had built my identity around it.

And now, to think that I wasn’t the first… that there had been someone before me, and now that person was coming for my inheritance….

I let out a slow breath, eyes fixed on the stretch of road.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify