All Chapters of Her Choice To Make : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Tessa's POV: The days blurred together, each one passing like a muted dream. Benjamin had left no stone unturned in making the house a fortress, tripling security, installing cameras, and checking guards. I never realized how busy he was until now that I had to stay home all day. He was always coordinating shipments for his massive shipping company. He’d barely been home during the day, coming back only late at night to hold me close and ask if I was alright.It left me alone with Lucian.I had tried to tell myself I could bear it, that I could keep my distance, keep my walls intact. But fate had a cruel sense of humor, trapping us under the same roof, breathing the same air, reminding me of every look, every touch, every shattering moment we had once shared.He mostly stayed in the guest room, healing and recovering, but with each passing day the bruises and cuts faded away. His wolf-healing had done its job. We spoke whenever I went to check up on him; we talked about everything e

Tessa’s POV:The night air stung as I stepped out with Noah, the moon painting silver streaks over Benjamin’s tall security men, who flanked us like silent shadows. My heart twisted seeing how Benjamin had insisted on tripling the guards, reminding me with his soft blue eyes that I was precious to him, no matter what messes seemed to follow me.Lucian hadn’t said a word when I told him I’d be gone for a few days. He simply nodded from the armchair he’d claimed, his wolf spirit still trapped, too weak to even try and follow. From his eyes I could tell he wanted to go with me, to protect me every chance he got. The way he looked at me made me shudder with need, but I pushed it away. A part of me was relieved I’d be leaving; space between us felt necessary, like a deep breath I hadn't been able to take since… that night.As we rode through the quiet streets, Noah sat beside me, fidgeting with his sleeves. There was a rawness about him tonight, something stripped of all that false arrogan

Tessa's POV: Three days. That was all the time I had with him before he let go, the man I had called my father even when he hadn’t truly been. The hours seemed to stretch and fold, timeless and sharp-edged, as I sat beside his bed, learning pieces of him I had never known.In the mornings, I would help him sip warm broth, steadying his trembling hands. By afternoon, I would read to him from old books that smelled of sun and dust, his tired eyes fluttering closed as my voice lulled him to rest.There were moments of clarity, brief and precious, when he would reach for my hand, and I would see the father I had always dreamed of behind those faded, watery eyes.One morning, as I washed his face with a damp cloth, he smiled faintly.“You… always had a stubborn spark in you,” he rasped.I laughed, even though tears pricked my eyes. “Maybe I got that from you.”He chuckled softly, then fell into a coughing fit that made my heart sink. When he settled, pale and exhausted, he caught my wris

Tessa's POV: The scent of blood and scorched rubber filled my lungs as I pushed myself up from the floor of the car. My body trembled, not from pain but from the primal fear curling around my bones. The kind of fear that doesn't shout, but whispers, slow and suffocating. The moon was high above, veiled by a thin mist, casting a bluish glow over the wrecked car and the chaos around it.The giant wolf outside prowled closer, dark fur rippling like an oil slick. Its eyes locked on me through the shattered windshield. Not just any eyes, they were sentient, filled with knowing and something worse. Recognition.Then, it spoke. Not with lips, but inside my head, a deep growling presence that rattled through my skull."You should have stayed hidden, little hybrid."I froze. The voice was like the scrape of claws against bone. The kind of voice that haunted dreams. I didn’t dare move. My heart galloped against my ribs, and yet, I couldn't look away."Olivia sends her regards."That name. It h

Tessa's POV: Back in the house, the wooden spoon clinked gently against the inside of the ceramic bowl as my mother stirred the soup she was making, porridge with fresh vegetables. The aroma of cooking oil, peppers, and something nostalgic wrapped around me like a thick blanket, warm and bittersweet. I sat quietly on the low stool beside the window, arms loosely crossed, trying to steady the chaos swirling in my chest."I know you have questions," she said finally, her back to me. Her voice wasn’t the kind I had imagined from bedtime stories or lullabies; it was cracked at the edges, weathered by time, but still undeniably… hers. "And I’m going to answer them. All of them."I didn’t speak right away. I just nodded, my fingers brushing lightly over a chipped mug in my lap. I could still hear the echo of Lucian’s voice in my head, still feel Benjamin’s lingering warmth, and remember the intensity of Noah’s broken gaze. But right now, none of them mattered. Not as much as the woman stan