uncer 264

Posted by Adminj, ? Views, Released on January 21, 2026

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Chapter 264

FAYE

I woke to the unfamiliar weight of stillness.

Not the peaceful kind–the kind that pressed against my chest and made me aware, all at once, that I was not where I was supposed to be. The air smelled wrong… not home. Something herbal, earthy, faintly bitter. My eyes fluttered open, then squeezed shut again when the dull throb behind

them protested.

The ceiling above me was wooden.

Everywhere was quiet.

I tried to shift, and pain answered immediately–low, deep, spreading through my abdomen like a

slow bruise blooming from the inside. My breath hitched before I could stop it.

“You’re awake.”

The voice came from my left. Male, calm. Almost… gentle.

“You shouldn’t try to move yet,” he continued, closer now. “Your body’s still recovering from the

impact.”

Impact.

The word cracked something open.

Fragments came back in uneven flashes. My hands on the steering wheel. The road stretching ahead of me, familiar and unremarkable. The radio murmuring in the background… lights… too

close, too fast. A sound like metal screaming. The violent jolt. My body thrown forward.

Then nothing.

I swallowed, my throat dry. “Where… am I?” My voice sounded thin, distant, like it belonged to

someone else.

“A safe place. You were in an accident,” the man said. “A bad one. I was nearby when it happened.”

I forced my eyes open again, turning my head slightly. The room came into focus slowly–a large bed covered in clean but simple linens, a low table by the wall, a fireplace long gone cold. It felt… secluded. Intentionally so.

“I brought you somewhere safe,” he went on. “This place is private. You don’t need to worry. You’ll be fine.”

Safe.

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The word didn’t settle. It slid off me, useless.

I frowned, trying to make sense of it. “You… brought me here?”

“Yes.”

25 Pants

There was the briefest pause. Not long enough to be obvious, but long enough for my instincts to

stir.

“It wasn’t safe to leave you at the scene,” he said carefully. “There were… complications. Taking you to an actual hospital would be risking exposure, considering how fast you’d heal compared to the

other victim.”

I turned my head more fully toward him now. His voice sounded a bit familiar. “Who are you?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I heard movement–the soft sound of boots against wood. He stepped into my line of sight.

And the world tilted.

Patrick.

For a second, I thought I was still unconscious. That this was some cruel hallucination my mind had conjured in its confusion. But no–there he was, solid and unmistakable. The same features, the same controlled posture. Alpha Patrick of North Ridge.

The same Patrick.

My heart slammed painfully against my ribs. Instinct took over before logic could catch up. I tried to sit up, every muscle tensing as if I could actually fight him in this state.

“Don’t,” he said quickly. “Faye, please-”

Pain exploded low in my body, sharp enough to steal the air from my lungs. I gasped, clutching at

the blanket as nausea surged.

And then I remembered.

The baby.

My breath came in shallow, panicked pulls. “No,” I whispered, then louder, the word tearing out of

me. “No, no, no-”

Patrick was suddenly closer, his hands hovering as if unsure whether to touch me. “Faye,” he said, his voice softer now, urgent. “I’m sorry.”

That did it.

I lost whatever fragile control I’d had left.

“No,” I said again, over and over, shaking my head as tears spilled unchecked down my eyes. “You

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Chapter 264

don’t get to say that. You don’t-“My voice broke completely. “Where is my baby?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and terrible.

Patrick didn’t answer right away.

I knew then. I knew before he spoke, before the words ever left his mouth. A hollow, sinking certainty settled in my chest, spreading outward until everything hurt.

+25 Points

“I’m so sorry,” he said again, and this time there was no mistaking the truth in it. “The impact caused severe trauma. The healer did everything she could, but…” He trailed off.

Something inside me collapsed.

I cried. Quiet, broken sounds that seemed to come from somewhere deep. My body felt disconnected from the grief tearing through me, like I was watching it happen from far away.

Patrick reached for me, his hand brushing my arm in what might have been meant as comfort.

I recoiled instantly, a sharp, visceral disgust cutting through the haze. “Don’t touch me,” I rasped.

He pulled his hand back immediately. “I won’t hurt you,” he said. “I swear.”

I tried to push myself upright again, driven by the overwhelming need to leave, to get away from him, from this place, from everything. My legs trembled uselessly beneath the blankets.

“Please,” Patrick said, something close to desperation creeping into his voice. “You can’t move like that yet. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I don’t care,” I sobbed. “I want to go home.”

Patrick’s jaw tightened. He looked away for a moment, as if steadying himself.

Before he could say anything else, the door opened

A woman entered quietly, middle–aged, with kind but tired eyes. Her hair was streaked with gray and pulled back neatly, and she carried a small tray with a steaming cup on it. The smell intensified -bitter herbs and something medicinal.

“Easy now,” she said gently, approaching the bed. “You’ve been through a great shock.”

I shook my head weakly as she held the cup out to me. “I’m not drinking that. Get away from me.”

“It will help with the pain,” she said. “And the shock

“I said no.”

She glanced at Patrick, then back at me. “You need it,” she insisted softly.

“I don’t trust him,” I said, my voice trembling with exhaustion and anger. “So why should I trust

anything he gives me?”

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Patrick exhaled slowly. “Faye,” he said, “listen to me!

1 fixed him with what little strength I had left. “Why I demanded. “Why should I?”

*20 Points

For a moment, the careful control he’d maintained slipped. Frustration flickered across his face, raw and unguarded.

“Because,” he said, “I know better than to make things worse.”

I looked at him weakly through my tears. “That’s not reassuring.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But it’s the truth.”

He straightened, his voice lowering. “I’m already deep in Alexander’s bad graces. Deeper than I ever should have been. If anything happens to you in my hands–there would be no coming back

from that.”

The words were blunt, stripped of pretence.

“Keeping you safe,” he continued, “is the only way I can even begin to appease him. I won’t risk

messing this up. This is an opportunity for me.”

I searched his face, looking for deceit, for manipulation. I found ambition, fear, and something that looked uncomfortably like regret.

Still, I shook my head. “That doesn’t make you trustworthy,” I whispered.

“No,” he agreed quietly. “It doesn’t.”

The healer stepped closer again, patient and calm. The medicine isn’t from him,” she said. “It’s from me. And for your body’s sake, you need it.”

My hands trembled as I stared at the cup. Everything hurt–physically, emotionally, in ways I didn’t have words for yet. The loss sat heavy inside me, unreal and suffocating.

I didn’t take the cup.

“I need time,” I said finally, my voice barely audible.

The healer nodded, setting the tray aside. “Very well. But don’t wait too long.”

She left the room quietly, leaving the two of us alone again.

I lost my child. I didn’t get to meet him… or her.

Patrick didn’t move closer. He stayed where he was, giving me space.

“Don’t beat yourself up too much. It wasn’t your fault,” he said after a while.

I closed my eyes, fresh tears slipping free. “Leave me alone.”

He didn’t leave.

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125 Points

“Leave,” I snapped, forcing my eyes open. Whatever restraint I had left cracked. “I don’t want you

here. I don’t want to see you. Just go.”

Something flickered across his face–conflict, frustration, maybe even guilt–but he didn’t argue. He nodded once, stiffly.

“I’ll be outside,” he said. “If you need-”

“I won’t,” I cut in.

That did it. He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

The moment I was alone, something inside me gave way completely.

The sound that tore out of my chest shocked even me.

It was loud–raw and uncontrolled, the kind of cry that didn’t care about dignity or strength or who

might hear. I curled onto my side instinctively, clutching the blanket to my stomach as if I could hold myself together by force alone.

“No-” I sobbed, the word breaking apart as it left my mouth. “Please… please…”

My body shook violently, each breath jagged and painful. The grief came in waves, merciless and suffocating, crashing over me again and again with no space to breathe in between. My chest burned. My throat ached. Tears soaked the pillow beneath my cheek as if they had been waiting

for permission to fall.

I cried for the child I never got to hold.

For the future that vanished in a single violent moment.

For Alexander–because I knew this would destroy him too.

The pain in my lower body pulsed in cruel rhythm with my sobs, a constant reminder of what was gone. I pressed my palm there, trembling, as if I could still protect something that no longer