Semua Bab Pregnant and Rejected (Second chance mate): Bab 81 - Bab 90

Andrea held Jaxon’s bloodied body in her arms, her chest tightening with terror. His blood soaked through her shirt, warm and thick, spreading like a warning sign of death. Her hands trembled, stained red, as she whispered frantic prayers beneath her breath.“God, please… please save them. Don’t let anything happen to them,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “They’ve been there for me through everything. Jaxon… Rick… Jack… please God, protect them.”Her heart pounded wildly as she pushed the gym doors open and rushed into the basketball court. The metallic scent of blood hit her like a brick. And then—her legs froze. Her eyes widened in horror.There, under the harsh, flickering court lights, a man in a black hoodie twisted a knife into someone’s stomach. Her stomach dropped.“Jaxon!” she screamed.Her voice cracked as she bolted forward, her heart lodged in her throat. The man let go of the knife, leaving it lodged in Jaxon’s stomach, and stepped back, his face covered by a scarf. An

The man in the hood burst into the hidden chamber behind the old bookcase—an office so secret only two people knew it existed. The scent of old cigars and pinewood filled the narrow space as he stumbled forward, blood dripping from his trembling hands, staining the floor beneath him.He dropped to his knees, panting, his voice breathless. “I’m sorry it took me this long. But I did it—I made sure the knife went in deep. He won’t survive. I’m sure of it.”The figure seated in the high-back leather chair didn’t turn immediately. He remained silent, the dim light catching the smoke from his cigarette as he took one last drag. Then, slowly, the old man twisted around, his grizzled face revealing neither shock nor satisfaction—just a cold, calculating calm.“You used the right knife?” he asked, voice rough like sandpaper.“Yes,” the man in the hood nodded eagerly. “I laced the blade with wolfsbane and mistletoe. Even if he was Alpha, it won’t save him now.”A small, crooked smile curled on

Andrea was determined. The kind of fiery, vengeful determination that burned in her bones. Her jaw clenched with resolve as she shoved open the restroom door, her footsteps echoing across the empty tiled floor. She was not going to let him go scot-free this time — not after everything.Not after the lies.Not after the blood.Not after Jaxon.She changed quickly, stuffing her usual clothes deep into her bag and zipping it shut. The hoodie she wore wasn’t his — not Jaxon’s. That would have been too sentimental, too painful. No, this one was hers. Black, oversized, and nondescript. She dragged the cap low over her eyes, lips set in a thin line. Her entire body felt tight with rage and betrayal. She couldn’t afford another mistake.When she stepped outside, her breath hitched. There he was. Mr. Hoodie himself — Rock.His eyes widened when he saw her. For a split second, something flickered in them — fear? No. Surprise. Maybe both. Andrea saw it clearly.He hadn’t expected her to show up

She finished what she was doing, folding the last of her laundry before arranging her bed. The room was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp, and the evening air carried the faint scent of lavender from her sheets. It had become a daily routine by now. They would call her—sometimes one by one, sometimes all at once—complaining about each other, their arguments, their stupid fights. And she would listen. Always listen. Always be the one to bring peace.She never let their bickering get to her. She would calm them, remind them not to fight, not to lose themselves in pride. “He’s your brother. Just let it go,” she’d say. Or, “You guys are all you’ve got. You can’t afford to fall apart.”Sometimes she even joked, “Am I your mother now?” And they’d laugh, awkwardly but fondly. So when she heard them fussing again earlier, she hadn’t taken it seriously. She simply finished tidying up, then reached for her pillow.The hallway was quiet. Dark. Only a faint glow from the night bulbs guided her s

The room had gone silent, save for the low hum of the ceiling fan and their intertwined breaths. After the confessions, after the tears, after the kiss that bound them once again—Jaxon gently pulled the blanket over Elena’s body. She let him. Her heart was still racing, her chest heavy from everything they had both spilled out.They sat facing each other now under the dim yellow glow of the bedside lamp. Their knees touched, and a soft smile curved both their lips. Neither of them spoke for a moment—they just watched each other. His deep eyes searched hers, not with suspicion anymore, but with something gentler. Something far more intimate.Then Jaxon tilted his head slightly, breaking the silence.“Elena,” he began with a lopsided grin, “I’ve been wondering something. Was that your first?”She blinked at him, caught off guard. “First what?”“You know…” he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly awkward. “When we first met. That night in the woods. When we… when we possessed each other.