A Warrior's Second Chance (Faye and Alexander) novel Chapter 169

Chapter 169

SILVER HOLLOW

ALEXANDER

When I woke up, the first thing I felt was the weight of silence. No pain, no darkness. Just stillness. For a moment, I didn’t move. My eyes drifted across the room.

Then the memories came back, one after another… the summit, the ambush, Patrick, the blade, Faye’s face right before everything went black.

My chest tightened.

I sat up slowly, every muscle stiff but strangely alive. My hand moved to my stomach instinctively, to where the blade had cut through me at the side… bad enough that even the healer had said I wouldn’t make it through the night.

But when I lifted my shirt, all I saw was skin. Bruised, faintly discolored, but whole. No gash. No trace of a silver burn. Nothing.

For a second, I wondered if this was the afterlife. Maybe this was what it looked like… quiet, calm, and unbearably real.

I ran my fingers over the spot again. It was smooth and warm.

Maybe I wasn’t alive at all. Maybe this was some cruel illusion… a dream that the goddess granted to ease me into the void.

The door creaked softly, and I looked up.

Faye… she walked in, balancing a tray in her hands. The smell of food filled the room. Her hair was tied loosely, and there were dark circles under her eyes, but the moment she saw me sitting up, her face lit up like dawn breaking after a long storm.

“Faye,” I said her name before I even realized it.

It felt strange on my tongue… not because I hadn’t said it before, but because I didn’t expect to say it again.

She froze for half a heartbeat, then hurried forward, setting the tray down on the bedside table so quickly the spoon rattled against the bowl. Then, before I could say another word, she threw herself into my arms.

Her warmth hit me first… solid, trembling, real. I caught her automatically, one arm looping

around her back, the other brushing over her hair. She didn’t say anything for a while, and I didn’t either. I just held her, breathing her in, trying to understand what kind of miracle this

was.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes were wet, glistening like she’d been crying. But it wasn’t sadness I saw… it was relief so raw it almost hurt to look at.

“Is this…” I hesitated, trying to find the words. “Is this supposed to be some kind of heaven or what?”

She blinked, and for a second there was silence… then she laughed. It was a soft, shaky sound, half amusement, half disbelief.

“Do you think heaven looks like this?” she asked, smiling through her tears.

Instead of answering, I lifted my shirt again, staring at the faint bruise on my stomach. “Then explain this.”

Her laughter faded. Slowly, almost reverently, she reached out and touched the spot where the blade had pierced me. Her fingers were warm against my skin, her touch feather–light, like she was afraid she’d undo whatever miracle had happened.

For a moment, she didn’t speak. Her gaze lingered on the place her hand rested, her expression caught somewhere between awe and confusion.

“It’s a miracle,” she said finally, her voice barely audible. “I thought… I thought I lost you, Alexander.”

Her voice cracked on my name, and before I could respond, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me again.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” she murmured against my chest, her tone breaking somewhere between anger and relief.

I rested my chin lightly against her head, unsure how to respond. My mind was still scattered, my thoughts struggling to keep up with reality. I could remember fading… the cold creeping in, my heartbeat slowing, the world slipping away. I was sure I had died.

And yet, here I was… breathing, thinking, touching her. Waking up to life felt… foreign. Like I was wearing borrowed time. There had to be some kind of explanation.

She eventually pulled away, wiping her eyes quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach them. “Do you want to freshen up first or eat first?” she asked, her tone trying to sound casual.

I glanced at the tray she’d brought… the steaming bowl, the mug beside it. My stomach

growled faintly, but still, I shook my head.

“I think I’ll brush my teeth and have a proper bath first, I said. “My entire body needs that more than food right now.”

There was a knock at the door just as I swung my legs off the bed, the sound sharp enough to break the soft quiet of the room. Faye turned toward it, but before she could answer, the door opened.

Jason stepped inside.

For a heartbeat, I just stared at him… the proud Alpha of Silver Hollow, the man who’d always carried himself with that quiet arrogance. But the man standing before me now didn’t look like that Jason. His posture was different. His usual smirk was gone. He looked… humbled.

For the first time since I’d known him, Jason didn’t carry the air of unspoken competition… that restless need to prove something whenever we were in the same space. Instead, there was something else in his eyes: regret, maybe, or gratitude.

“Alpha Alexander,” he greeted quietly, almost awkwardly. “It’s… good to see you awake.”

I blinked. I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right.

He looked uncomfortable, shifting slightly like the words themselves didn’t fit right on his tongue. His gaze flicked toward Faye briefly, then back to me.

“Alpha Jason,” I replied finally, my tone cautious.

He nodded, his jaw tightening before he said, “It’s good to have you back. Truly.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Those were words I’d never expected to hear from him… not with that tone, not from a man who’d once looked at me like a rival more than anything.

“Thank you,” I said simply, because it was the only thing that felt right.

Jason hesitated, then exhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if you’d actually died,” he admitted. “It would’ve been my fault in a way. I was the one who invited you here. You came to my land as a guest… and this happened.”

His voice wasn’t steady. There was guilt in it… real guilt.

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