Bonds at War: The Untouched is Mine novel Chapter 392

Attachment 392 Summary

Abel is overwhelmed by grief and frustration after letting Luna go to save her life, despite his deep love for her. Tyson, usually stoic, is moved to tears seeing Abel break down, revealing the depth of Abel’s pain. Abel admits that he tried to distract himself with work and obligations but the loneliness and heartache remain unbearable. Arden encourages Abel to stop torturing himself and to take action, insisting that Luna is likely suffering as well and that Abel needs to face the reality of their situation.

The tension escalates when Jaxon arrives unexpectedly, provoking a confrontation with Abel. Abel accuses Jaxon of breaking their deal to override the mark on Luna, which would have saved her, but Jaxon claims Luna doesn’t want to be saved and hints that the situation is more complicated than Abel realizes. Jaxon’s cryptic remarks create confusion and suspicion among the group, especially when he suggests Abel should be with Luna because she is in danger.

Jaxon then reveals a shocking truth: he cannot override the mark because Luna is not fully human—she is part Lycan, like Abel. This revelation stuns everyone and adds a new layer of complexity to Luna’s condition and the challenges Abel faces. The chapter ends with the group grappling with this unexpected information and the urgent need to reach Luna before it’s too late.

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Chapter 392: Changed Mind

ABEL

“I never expected you to break down like this.”

Tyson’s voice cracked, barely above a whisper. When I turned toward him, ready to snap at him to keep quiet, I caught sight of his eyes glistening with tears. Then, as if some cruel reflection of my own pain, he began to cry as well.

Frustrated, I rubbed my face hard. “Why the hell are you crying?” I muttered sharply.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen you cry,” Tyson said, dabbing at his tears with the back of his hand. “I thought you were okay without Luna around.”

“How could I be okay?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, bitter and raw. A hollow laugh escaped me, one that didn’t sound like myself. “She means everything to me.”

It was the absolute truth—every word weighted with the heaviness of my heart.

For weeks, I tried to convince myself that letting her go was the only right thing to do. I buried myself in back-to-back meetings, drowned in endless work, and surrounded myself with the constant noise of obligations. I told myself that if I filled my days with enough distractions, maybe I could survive the nights without my thoughts drifting to her. But the reality was far crueler—each passing minute felt like a punishment, a slow torture.

The moment Tessa told me that overriding her mark would save her life, I knew I faced an impossible choice. Either I kept her tethered to me, risking everything, or I let her go and carried the unbearable pain alone.

I chose to let her go.

It was the only way to save her. That was the one thing that mattered. I repeated it to myself like a mantra, hoping the relentless ache would dull. But every time I pictured her safe in someone else’s arms—alive but no longer mine—something inside me shattered.

I never imagined it would hurt this deeply.

No, deep down I always knew it would. I understood exactly how much it would tear me apart, but I did it anyway. Because sometimes love demands sacrifice so cruel it doesn’t feel noble—it just feels like a slow, agonizing death.

My heart broke even thinking about that night when she begged me to stay, eyes filled with desperate hope as she whispered, “Do you still love me?”

Of course, I did. I still do. My love for her was so intense it felt like I couldn’t breathe when I thought about being without her. She was the air in my lungs, the beat in my veins. Every moment apart felt unnatural. But I forced myself to believe she was better off, even if that meant living half a life.

A soft sniff broke the silence. Arden stood nearby, her hands clenched tightly, watching me with a mix of pity and fierce resolve. “It’s not too late,” she said quietly.

I gave a weak, hollow laugh. “What am I supposed to do?” I asked, turning to face her. “He’s already overridden the mark. She belongs to him now.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Tessa interjected quickly.

Tessa bit her lip, regret flashing across her face. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have kept the solution to myself when I first heard it.”

“No,” I shook my head. “It’s okay. It was better this way. At least now, I know she’s still alive.”

“But what about you?” Cade asked suddenly.

I looked up at him, words catching in my throat. The answer was painfully simple, but saying it aloud made it real.

On the outside, I was alive. But inside… I could die at any moment, and it wouldn’t make a difference.

“This isn’t working,” Arden muttered, standing abruptly. “You’re sitting here, torturing yourself. Honestly, it’s pathetic.”

I glanced at her sharply, ready to snap back, but she crossed her arms and fixed me with a fierce glare. “Let’s go to her. Right now.”

She stepped forward, chin raised defiantly. “You’re miserable, Abel. I can see it. And she’s out there—probably miserable too. You can’t just sit here pretending everything’s fine when both of you are dying inside.”

My heart hammered painfully in my chest as I stared at her.

Before she could say another word, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the hall.

Every head turned toward the noise.

I stood up, my pulse racing, instincts sharpening.

And then he appeared.

Jaxon. Standing tall in the doorway, the light from behind casting his silhouette in sharp relief.

“Am I late to the party?” he asked, voice casual.

Cade tensed beside me. Tyson’s expression flickered between confusion and anger.

They all went on high alert the moment he stepped inside. Cade’s hand hovered near his side, ready to act.

But I held out my hand.

“Don’t,” I warned, locking eyes with Jaxon. “What are you doing here?”

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