A Warrior's Second Chance (Faye and Alexander) novel Chapter 213

FAYE

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As much as I was happy and more hopeful now, I also held my breath, heart thudding in my chest like a war drum, as I watched Alexander move. His wolf form was a storm of muscle and fury, but being Adrian made it look like he was double the size now.

Adrian’s raw power was flowing through him, but I could see it–just beneath the surface, the subtle hints that Alexander was guiding him. It was instinct, almost imperceptible: the way his claws struck with precision now, the way he dodged Marcus’s desperate attacks with a calculated rhythm.

The crowd had gone silent, tension hanging so thick in the air it made my lungs ache. Even Marcus’s supporters seemed to hesitate, frozen by the sheer force radiating from him. Alexander pulled the surprise element on us all.

I felt my pulse spike every time Alexander’s wolf lunged, every time Adrian’s power manifested in controlled savagery.

And then I realized–he was mastering him.

Each movement that had once been wild and reckless now carried purpose. Each strike, each pivot, each snap of his jaws was deliberate, guided. He wasn’t letting Adrian take over; he was bending him to his will, channeling it without losing himself.

I let out a shaky sigh, relief washing over me like a tide I hadn’t dared hope for. I could feel him here–Alexander–still in there, still aware, still in control. My hands clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Not when every second could be the difference between triumph and catastrophe.

Marcus was faltering terribly. His rogue confidence, his vicious tactics–they were crumbling against a force he hadn’t expected. I could see it in his eyes–the panic, the fear that had first flickered when Adrian awakened now sharpened into desperation. He lashed out, claws swiping, teeth snapping, but every attack was met with a deadlier one.

Alexander was exploiting openings, countering with speed and hyper intelligence, and the wolf that had once been merely a weapon of chaos was now a tool of lethal strategy.

In a flash, Marcus was lying in the dirt in the pool of his own blood, ripped into parts. Everybody froze, and there was absolute silence.

Alexander won.

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I wanted to feel relief, but I found myself gripping the edge of the barrier, knuckles white, whispering prayers under my breath… praying he stays in control. “Please… please come

back.”

And slowly, I saw it happen. Adrian receded like a tide pulling back from the shore. The crimson in Alexander’s eyes softened, the red fading slowly to gold.

I couldn’t stop myself from stepping closer, my heart pounding so violently I feared he might hear it over the quiet chaos. Relief washed over me, fierce and overwhelming. “He did it… he can control it,” I whispered, voice trembling.

Then, slowly, he shifted. The wolf form melted into human, the muscles unwinding, the fur receding, until there he knelt–bleeding slightly, panting, exhausted beyond comprehension. His chest rose and fell with measured breaths, and his eyes, warm, met mine. I couldn’t stop the rush of emotion that overtook me: relief, fear, pride, and an unbearable love. I felt a tear

escape my eye.

I rushed to his side, handing him a robe to cover himself. My hands were on his shoulders, checking for injuries–a cut along his jaw, scratches on his arms, the trickle of blood. But he was alive… he was Alexander, he was here. And he had won–not just the fight, but the war

within himself.

The Ring of Fire around us dimmed, sparks sputtering as the heat died down. I could hear the faint murmurs of the crowd rising, then growing, as the pack and witnesses processed what they had just witnessed.

Cheers erupted, some hesitant at first, then swelling into a chorus of awe and respect. The pack members who had watched him fight from the edge of the circle now stared with wide eyes, admiration etched on their faces. Even Marcus’s remaining supporters faltered, unsure how to respond, their confidence shattered.

I stayed close to Alexander, my hands brushing against his arms as I let my gaze take him in. He was bleeding, exhausted. Every line of his body, every scar and sweat–soaked muscle, radiated resilience. Pride and admiration glimmered in the eyes of those in the arena, and I

couldn’t help but feel it, too.

He had done it.

ALEXANDER

Faye stayed at my side, one arm around my waist as if I needed steadying. I didn’t–not really -but I didn’t remove her hold. My body was still trembling, whether from the aftershock of the fight, the strain of pulling Adrian back, or the last streaks of adrenaline refusing to settle.

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My breathing was uneven, my skin heated beneath the robe she had draped over my shoulders, but my mind… my mind was clear.

I was present.

And alive.

25 Painte

I felt the way her relief hit her–sharp, overwhelming, almost knocking the strength from her legs. She kept herself upright anyway. That was Faye. She would never fall when I was still standing.

The pack’s voices filled the arena, calling my name in waves–Alexander… Alpha… Alpha… Alpha… Some shouted, some clapped, some raised their fists. Others only stared, wide–eyed, trying to understand what they had just witnessed. A few bowed their heads, unable to look at me after seeing Adrian fully unleashed and then fully restrained… or out of shame.

Faye squeezed my hand. I looked at her briefly… just a second. But she knew what it meant.

I was with her.

I faced the crowd and gave a slow nod. That alone sent another roar rolling across the arena.

But beyond the noise, beyond the praise, something else tugged at the edge of my awareness. A presence.

Not cheering, not relieved.

Gerald.

He stood near the far edge of the arena now, half–hidden behind Marcus’s shaken supporters. His face had gone completely white. His eyes were stuck wide open, fixed on me like I was a death omen he’d never believed in until now.

A moment ago, he had been smirking. Whispering encouragement for Marcus. Looking almost proud every time I hit the ground.

Now he looked like a man already halfway buried.

He must have been really sure that Marcus was going to win… that would explain the audacity that made him show his face this deep in my territory again.

I saw the moment the instinct struck him–the flick of his foot, the jerk of his shoulders, the breath he sucked in.

Then suddenly, he bolted for the exit.

He spun and sprinted toward the trees like a coward running from a beast. He tripped once,

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scrambled back up, nearly collided with someone, and kept running.

I didn’t move. I didn’t have to.

+25 Points

Kyle appeared behind him in three strides, seized him by the collar, and yanked him off the ground like he weighed nothing. Gerald hit the dirt with a shrill cry, scrambling backward on his hands and feet until Kyle’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, forcing him to stay where he was.

“No–no–Kyle, wait, WAIT-!” Gerald screeched as Kyle dragged him toward me.

I remained still. Waiting. Listening to the ground shift beneath Kyle’s steps. Watching Gerald fall to his knees, shaking so hard his bones might have rattled if the arena were silent.

The arena fell silent anyway.

Gerald was soaked in sweat, dust smeared across his clothes, tears streaming freely now.” A…Alexander,” he stuttered, voice breaking, “Alpha…please…listen…I can explain…”

I did not speak.

Silence is heavier than anger. More effective, too. I wanted him to feel it.

I let him choke on it.

“I–I made a mistake,” he cried, voice cracking. “I wasn’t thinking–I didn’t want to betray-”

“You did betray yourself this time.”

I didn’t raise my voice. I was too tired to do that. My words landed exactly the way I intended -with the weight of truth he could not escape.

He flinched.

I stepped forward. “You were banished,” I said. “That alone was more mercy than you deserved. My council questioned it. My warriors questioned it. Yet I gave it.”

The crowd murmured behind me.

“You were spared,” I said. “Despite your crimes. Despite putting my mate in danger. Despite risking her life, and challenging my reign as Alpha of Blood Crescent. And I showed mercy.”

Gerald sobbed, shaking like he was freezing. “He–Marcus–he forced me–he threatened-”

“You walked onto my land today,” I cut him off. “Of your own will, because you thought the alpha who didn’t deserve to rule Blood Crescent was finally going to be put down. You thought Marcus was going to win, didn’t you?”

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His breath stopped. He knew he couldn’t lie his way around that.

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“Not only did you return,” I continued, “you came to support the man who challenged me. You stood with him. You cheered for him. You wanted him to kill me.”

“N–no–no, I didn’t–Alex, I was scared-”

“Do not dare call me Alexander.”

The air shifted. The crowd stiffened.

Gerald’s voice cracked. “Alpha,” he corrected quickly. “Please–I’m begging–just one more chance-”

“I already gave you one.”

He broke then. Collapsed fully to the dirt, forehead pressed to the ground as he cried.

“I’ll do anything,” he wailed. “Please–don’t kill me–don’t kill me–please-”

I felt nothing for him. Faye also looked like she felt nothing for him.

He deserved nothing good from me.

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