Chapter 265
Chapter 265
FAYE
I don’t know how long I cried.
Time didn’t move the way it should have. It stretched and folded in on itself, minutes dissolving into something shapeless and dull. At some point, my throat burned, and my chest ached from the
force of it.
I lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling without really seeing it.
And then it hit me.
This was it.
This was what I had seen.
It wasn’t just fear… not paranoia. Not my mind spiraling. The vision had been too clear for that. Too
sharp. I remembered it now with terrifying precision.
I felt a sudden weight in my chest, a hollow ache.
I had felt the loss before it happened.
My throat tightened as the truth settled, heavy and undeniable. It hadn’t been my imagination. It hadn’t been anxiety or stress or some cruel trick of instinct. It had been a warning.
And it had come to pass.
I really lost my child.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my hand curling slightly over my abdomen–there was nothing left to protect–but letting it rest anywhere else felt wrong!
I thought about the drive, the way I had taken the keys from Cole, my heart hammering, my hands shaking. The crash had happened so fast. I could still feel the skid of the car, the metal twisting, the air thick with fear. All of it–every rush, every desperate thought, every fragment of anger that had driven me forward–felt meaningless now. Compared to this. Compared to the hollow ache
that had replaced hope.
I stared at the wall in front of me, eyes burning, tears still slipping silently now.
Alexander…
The thought of him cracked something open in me again. I wasn’t sure how I would ever be able to look at him now… or how I felt about him.
I knew that much. The ache between us was already there, a hollow pull that felt wrong and
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incomplete, like a limb torn away.
I pressed my lips together, forcing myself not to cry out again.
I didn’t know how to survive this part.
The door opened quietly.
I didn’t turn my head.
4+25 Points
Soft footsteps approached, stopping just short of the bed. I could feel the presence without looking–measured, careful. Patrick.
“I asked you to leave me alone,” I said hoarsely.
“I know,” he replied. His voice was lower now, stripped of whatever authority it usually carried. “I won’t stay long.”
I finally turned my head enough to look at him.
He stood there awkwardly, hands clasped in front of him like he didn’t quite know what to do with them. He looked… smaller. Not physically, but something about his posture was off, restrained.
I didn’t care. I let my gaze harden. “Do you think for a second,” I said, “that you can use me as some bargaining chip against Alexander? That you can try to play games with my life?”
He flinched, as though he hadn’t expected the bite in my words… then he smirked.
“Let me make this very clear,” I continued. “If you even think about being funny… I will kill you‘
myself.”
The fire in me was burning hot… maybe it was frustration, or the fact that I had nothing left to lose.
I wasn’t throwing random threats–I was warning him with every ounce of my caution. He was dangerous, but so was I. And right now, despite everything, I still had enough of myself left to fight.
Patrick smiled. “I understand,” he said. “I just came to check to see how you’re doing. I’ll let you be
now.”
I leaned back against the cot, forcing my body to settle. My muscles ached, but the wolf inside me was already healing faster than normal.
Good… I.needed to be ready to leave this place.
The woman appeared in the doorway again.
“You really need to drink your medicine. It’ll help calm your body-”
“I don’t need it,” I said quickly. My voice was firm. “But if you really want to help, get me some
clothes. I want to be on my way.”
She hesitated, eyes lingering on me the way people look at something fragile they don’t quite
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understand, then nodded slowly, as if she’d decided I wasn’t going to attack her–or collapse–if she turned her back. She picked up the medicine… or whatever they had wanted me to drink, and left the room quietly.
The door clicked shut.
I exhaled through my nose and waited a few seconds longer, listening. No footsteps. No voices close by.
I pushed myself upright.
Pain flared immediately–sharp, warning–but it wasn’t the blinding agony from earlier. It was duller now, tighter, like my body reminding me it was still Healing. I clenched my jaw and breathed through it.
Slowly, carefully, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My feet touched the floor, bare against cool wood. I stood, testing my weight, steadying myself with a hand on the bedpost until the faint dizziness passed.
I moved toward the door quietly, each step measured, my senses stretching outward instinctively.
Whatever Patrick thought, I wasn’t helpless. I was still a wolf. Injured, grieving, furious–but not
weak.
I stopped just short of the door, pressing my ear lightly against the wood.
Voices drifted in from the corridor.
“…she refused it,” the woman was saying. Her voice sounded lower now, edged with concern. “I tried to explain it would help with the pain, but she still wouldn’t take it.”
There was a brief pause before Patrick answered.
“That’s fine,” he said. “Don’t force it.”
The woman hesitated. “She asked me to get her clothes. She said she wants to leave.”
My stomach tightened.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing. No sound at all.
Then Patrick spoke again, his tone detached. “I have no use keeping her here longer than necessary anyway… she’ll leave when I’m done with her.”
Cold slid down my spine.
There it was. The fear I’d been trying not to name. The quiet dread that had been lurking beneath the pain and shock since the moment I’d woken up here. My fingers curled slowly at my sides as my heartbeat picked up, sharp and fast.
Kidnapped.
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That was the word my mind supplied unbidden. The thought I’d been dancing around.
I swallowed, forcing myself to stay still, to listen.
“…she’s not going anywhere yet,” Patrick continued
I stilled completely.
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“Not until Alexander comes for her himself,” he said, and there was steel in his voice now. “We
need to talk. Face to face.”
The woman let out a breath. “You’re serious?”
“Completely.”
“But Patrick-”
“I’m not wasting this chance, Mother,” he cut in. “Do you have any idea what it took to even get her here alive? This is my opportunity to get Alexander’s attention. To win back his favor.”
Mother?
That was Patrick’s mother.
The woman didn’t respond right away. When she did, her voice was strained. “You’re playing a dangerous game. You can’t be sure it would go well.”
Patrick exhaled slowly. “I’ve been playing it for years. I think I’m better at it now.”
I backed away from the door silently, my pulse pounding hard enough that I could hear it in my ears. My hands were shaking now–not from weakness, but from adrenaline.
I moved back toward the bed and sat down carefully, schooling my breathing until it evened out again. Panic wouldn’t help me. Panic would probably get me restrained, drugged–everything I couldn’t afford.
He wasn’t planning to hurt me… not yet. I believed that much.
But I wasn’t free either… I wasn’t safe.
Not until Alexander came.
If Alexander came.
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