Bonds at War: The Untouched is Mine novel Chapter 390

Attachment 390 Summary

The chapter opens with a tense and painful confrontation between Luna and Jaxon. Luna is physically weak and emotionally shattered, struggling with a relentless dryness in her throat and a deep despair. Jaxon urges her to let him override a mysterious mark, insisting it is the only way to save her baby. Luna’s refusal is silent but firm, fueled by her love and longing for Abel, whose mark still faintly glows on her neck. Despite Jaxon’s frustration and forceful attempts to assert control, including pinning her down and threatening to mark her himself, Luna resists, clinging to her love for Abel.

As the confrontation escalates, Jaxon’s anger gives way to hesitation and a softer, conflicted demeanor. He ultimately releases Luna, leaving her trembling and broken on the couch. Jaxon’s frustration is palpable as he curses quietly and tries to care for her, lifting her when she collapses. The emotional intensity highlights Luna’s vulnerability and Jaxon’s complex feelings, caught between anger, desperation, and a reluctant tenderness.

Later, Luna awakens to a dim room and overhears a disturbing conversation between Jaxon and a stranger, a doctor from prison who comments that she is “not pure.” The phrase haunts Luna, echoing a recurring nightmare. Despite her frailty, she notices Abel’s mark still glowing faintly on her neck, a source of fragile hope and comfort. Jaxon’s dismissive attitude toward her attachment to Abel’s mark contrasts with Luna’s quiet determination to hold onto it, underscoring the ongoing conflict over identity and control.

The chapter closes with a brief, cryptic exchange where Jaxon hints at deeper truths that Luna does not yet understand. His bitter laughter and abrupt departure leave Luna alone with her unanswered questions and lingering pain. The tension between them remains unresolved, emphasizing Luna’s isolation and the uncertain future she faces as she approaches childbirth.

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Chapter 390: You Don’t Know

“You’re going to kill yourself,” Jaxon said flatly, his voice heavy with frustration and no hint of amusement. I choked again, water catching painfully in my throat as I tried to swallow. It spilled down the front of my shirt, soaking the thin fabric and clinging to my skin.

I coughed violently, gasping for air. My throat burned fiercely, dry and raw, no matter how much water I forced down. The dryness was relentless, an ache that refused to ease.

“So be it,” I whispered, my voice barely steady, trembling with exhaustion and despair. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, feeling numb and defeated. I didn’t care anymore. If this was the way it was going to end, then so be it.

Days had dragged on endlessly since I’d been trapped here, and I could feel myself slipping further with each passing moment. My body was weakening, my spirit fraying at the edges.

“Are you really not going to let me override the mark?” Jaxon asked again, his tone sharper this time.

I remained silent. My quiet refusal was louder than any words I could have spoken.

He exhaled sharply, stepping closer until his shadow loomed over me. “Even Abel gave me the okay,” he muttered, his voice low. “You know this is the only way to save your baby.”

The word hit me like a punch to the gut—baby.

Without thinking, my hands flew to my stomach, clutching it instinctively.

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “Do you want to do it tonight?”

I lifted my gaze to meet his, pouring every ounce of strength and defiance I had left into that look.

Jaxon groaned, running a hand down his face in frustration. “God,” he muttered, pacing restlessly. “I never thought you’d be this stubborn.”

He spun around abruptly, his eyes darkening with irritation. Before I could react, his hand closed tightly around my wrist.

“Let go of me!” I shouted, struggling against his grip, but he was far too strong.

Ignoring my protests, he dragged me toward the living room. When we reached the couch, he pushed me down roughly. Then, he pinned me in place, his arms braced on either side of me like a cage.

My breath caught in my throat. My heart pounded loudly in my ears.

“Jaxon, don’t—”

He leaned in closer, his scent overwhelming and suffocating. “I didn’t want to do this,” he growled, voice thick with anger. “But you’re making it impossible.”

“Don’t touch me.”

He didn’t listen. His hands seized both my wrists, pinning them above my head against the couch’s fabric.

“Do you really love him that much?” he hissed.

“Yes,” I breathed, tears stinging my eyes. “I miss him. I love him more than anything. I don’t know how to live without him, and I don’t care.”

“Forget about him,” Jaxon snarled, eyes burning with fierce determination. “You’re with me now.” His voice dropped to a threatening whisper. “And I’m going to fucking mark you.”

My entire body froze. Panic surged through every nerve ending, screaming in terror.

He bent down, his lips dangerously close to my neck. I tried to push him away, to fight back, but my strength had long since vanished. Days without proper food, sleepless nights—they had all taken their toll. My limbs felt like lead.

“Stop…”

The word slipped out broken and weak.

His lips brushed my skin, just above where Abel’s mark still glowed faintly.

I couldn’t resist anymore. My body went limp, though my heart screamed silently: I just want Abel. Please, I just want Abel.

Tears spilled hot and unbidden from my eyes, trailing down my temples. A sob escaped before I could hold it back.

And then—he stopped.

His breath hitched. The tension in the air shifted, heavy with hesitation.

Jaxon raised his head, his face hovering inches from mine. I looked up at him through blurred vision, my chest rising and falling unevenly. For a long, unbearable moment, he stared.

Something softened in his eyes. The rage faded, his jaw unclenched.

“This isn’t fun,” he muttered.

Without warning, he released me and stood, stepping back as if he’d touched something burning.

I remained on the couch, trembling, my wrists red and sore from his grip.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by my shallow breaths filling the room.

Jaxon ran a hand through his hair, cursing quietly under his breath before turning away.

“Fuck this,” he muttered.

Tears continued to fall, unstoppable. My body shook as I curled up on the couch, head spinning, vision blurring, skin cold and clammy.

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