Chapter 258
The world blurred into chaos—torrential rain, shattered rocks, thick mud, choking smoke.
These were the last things Isabella Sinclair saw before darkness swallowed her consciousness.
But with her final ounce of strength, she shoved the climber to safety.
Even if the odds were slim, she wanted her to live.
If she hadn’t been ready to face danger, she never should have worn that uniform. Death didn’t scare her. As long as her sacrifice meant something, her turbulent journey wouldn’t be wasted.
She hadn’t always been this fearless. As a child, even the thought of death—or her father and stepmothers dragging her to a psychic—would send her into hysterics. She’d been a dramatic little thing.
But at eleven, she met him here.
His courage, his resilience, those piercing eyes that guided her like a lighthouse in a storm—how he’d been willing to live or die with her in that fleeting moment—it had seared into her soul.
For the first time, she realized a person could burn so fiercely for themselves.
Even after marrying him, even after he shattered her, she couldn’t deny it.
Alexander Kingsley changed her. He rewrote her life.
Time twisted. Stars realigned.
Everything happened too fast—an avalanche of fate.
In the brief darkness, Isabella dreamed.
She dreamed of curling under her parents’ knees, her brothers celebrating her birthday.
Sebastian lifted her onto a mountain of gift boxes, Oliver sang a horribly off-key Happy Birthday, Arabella held the cake as they blew out candles together, and William gave her the toy gun she’d always wanted.
And Alexander.
She remembered fighting beside him on the battlefield, life hanging by a thread.
She remembered seeing him again at her grandfather’s side, unable to look away.
She remembered him sliding divorce papers across the table, his expression ice-cold.
A sharp pain tore through her chest, jolting her awake.
Isabella gasped, choking on air, drenched in sweat and rain. Her body trembled violently. “I’m alive? I’m alive!”
Tears spilled as she squeezed her eyes shut.
If not for that dream of the bastard who broke her, she might’ve died confused and unaware.
But her relief shattered when she saw where she was.
She’d been washed onto a hillside by the mudslide, half-buried, her backpack dangling from a fragile branch.
“Damn it! Just my luck!”
She forced steady breaths, teeth gritted. “I can’t die. Not now. What would happen to William? To my brothers?” If fate gave her this chance, she’d claw her way back.
Crack.
The branch above her groaned.
Isabella froze. One wrong move, and it would snap.
She dug her fingers into the mud, found two sturdy rocks, and flipped herself onto them just as the branch gave way—plunging into the abyss below.
Her heart hammered against her ribs.
No time to panic. She had to climb.
Night had fallen, the storm relentless.
Rain stung her eyes, her hands numb from cold. Only sheer will kept her moving.
Isabella’s mother had died young, leaving her to be raised by her stepmothers. Aviana had trained her in boxing, horseback riding, archery—and climbing.
That skill was saving her now.
Just as she neared the top, the ground trembled.
Pebbles skittered past her. Another landslide.
“Seriously, God? After all my charity work? This is how you repay me?”
The rock beneath her foot crumbled.
She hung in midair, nothing but emptiness below.
“No! HELP!”
Her eyes flew wide—despair crashed over her.
One misstep, and death waited.
A tear of defiance slipped free as she shut her eyes.
“Isabella!”
A rough hand clamped around her wrist, yanking her back from the edge.
Her fall jerked to a stop.
Slowly, she opened her eyes.
Alexander’s gaze met hers—bright as starlight.
Her breath hitched.
“Alexander?”
Was this a dream? A hallucination?
Her pulse roared in her ears.
“Don’t be scared. I’ve got you.”
His voice was raw, his grip iron-tight. Sweat streaked his face, his left hand dug into the mud, his right trembling as he held her.
But the ground was giving way beneath him too.
They could both die here.
“Alexander!”
His name tore from her lips, tears spilling unbidden. “I don’t want to die.”
She’d been so strong until now—pushing past every limit.
But seeing him shattered her defenses.
The fearless girl was crying.
Pain darkened Alexander’s eyes, his blood screaming for her.
“Cry later. Right now, give me everything you’ve got and CLIMB!”
She sucked in a breath, teeth clenched, hauling herself up with him.
“Hurry! It’s collapsing!” he barked.
“I KNOW! I’m going as fast as I can!” she snapped back, tears blurring her vision.
Alexander frowned.
Terrified—yet somehow even more endearing.
Lightning flashed, illuminating her face.
A sudden, searing pain split his skull.
Through the haze, Isabella morphed into a girl of eleven or twelve.
A voice—familiar yet distant—echoed in his mind.
“Little girl, what’s your name?”
“Won’t tell me? Fine. I’ll call you Tiny. Tiny body, tiny mouth, tiny nose.”
Alexander’s breath caught.
Memories surged—long buried, now crashing over him like a tidal wave.
Tiny. Tiny!
She was the girl he’d saved all those years ago.
The one who’d nearly died right here.