All Chapters of His rejected curvy secret : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Faye pov The soft light filtering through the white canvas felt gentle on my face when I first opened my eyes. It was morning, or close to it. The tent smelled like wood smoke, herbs, and the faint metallic tang of healing salves. My body felt heavy, as though every muscle had been squeezed and left to ache. My stitches tugged when I moved, but the sharp pain from last night had dulled to a steady throb. I was still tired down to my bones, the kind of tired that made even breathing feel like work. But I was alive. Jacob was alive. And that mattered more than anything.Beside me on the cot, my daughter made small, hungry noises. Her little mouth worked open and closed, searching. Her hands waved in tiny fists. I smiled even though my eyes still felt gritty from sleep. I sat up slowly, careful not to jar my stomach too much. The movement hurt, but I managed it as I lifted her into my arms. She was warm and solid against me, with her soft weight grounding everything else. I rocked her g

Faye povI sat on the edge of my cot with my daughter cradled in my arms again. She nursed quietly, with her small mouth working in steady pulls that made my chest ache in the best way. Every time she fed it reminded me why I had stepped forward in the courtyard, and why I had offered my life without a second thought. She was worth every second of fear, every drop of blood, and every failed attempt at shifting. I brushed my thumb across her soft cheek and tried to hold on to that feeling before the rest of the day rushed back in.But the rest of the day refused to stay quiet. As my mind kept circling back to what will happen tomorrow, the temple, the stone tablet, and the knife against my palm. What if the blood stayed plain red? What if nothing glowed? What if the pack looked at me with the same pity they used for orphans and outcasts, and decided I was nothing after all? I had spent my whole life being nothing. Invisible. Disposable. The thought of standing in front of everyone agai

Faye pov The silver glow on the stone had already started to fade by the time Harlan finished speaking, but the energy in the circle refused to settle. Wolves didn’t rush off right away. They drifted apart slowly, in twos and threes, with their heads bent close as they talked in hushed voices. You could hear fragments if you listened hard enough, some excited, some doubtful, some still angry. The pack was splitting in ways you could almost see, even though no one raised their voice. Tension clung to every shoulder, every sideways glance. No one wanted to be the first to break the quiet completely. A couple of wolves came up to me as Jacob and I started walking back toward the tent. First was an older woman with gray threaded through her dark hair. She kept her eyes down at first, respectful, then looked up. “I just wanted to say I’m glad it turned out real,” she said, voice low and warm. “My mom used to talk about Princess Lunette all the time, said she was the only one who ever r

Faye POV The pack house doors closed behind us with a heavy thud that echoed down the stone steps. Sunlight hit my face all bright and warm, but it didn’t touch the cold knot in my stomach. Two days. That was all we had until the full assembly. Two days to prove I wasn’t just a girl with glowing blood. I had to show them something real. Something they could believe in. Jacob walked beside me, with his crutch tapping steady against the path. Leo followed a few steps back, with his eyes scanning the grounds like always. I stayed quiet the whole way to the tent, with my thoughts spinning too fast to speak. Inside, Lara was already folding clean linens near the cot. The baby slept in her little nest of furs, tiny breaths even and soft. Seeing her calmed me a little. I knelt beside her for a second, brushing a finger over her cheek. She didn’t wake, just sighed in her sleep. That small sound reminded me why I couldn’t afford to fail. I stood up and looked at Jacob. “I need to try,” I

Faye POV The journal stayed open on my lap long after Mira finished speaking. Her words about Lunette lingered in the tent like smoke, soft, heavy, and impossible to ignore. I traced the elegant handwriting with my finger, reading the same line over and over: *Trust her. Trust yourself.* My mother had written that for me before I was even born. Before she knew how hard the world would be. It made my chest ache in a way that wasn’t just grief. It felt like a purpose. Mira watched me quietly from her spot near the entrance. She hadn’t asked to stay the night, but Lara had already made space with extra furs and a low stool. The baby slept soundly between us, small breaths the only sound for a while. I closed the book gently and looked up at Mira. “You said there are ways she wrote about—safe ways to wake the wolf. Without pushing too hard. Without losing control.” Mira nodded slowly. “Yes. Lunette learned them from her own mother, and from old texts in the temple archives before e