Bonds at War: The Untouched is Mine novel Chapter 394

Attachment 394 Summary

In a vast, pure white expanse that feels like heaven, the narrator awakens to a serene, timeless place. Though surrounded by peaceful light and silence, a deep longing and pain remain, especially for someone dear to her. Memories and emotions persist despite the expectation that such ties might fade in this realm. Her thoughts turn to her daughter Snow and the hope that she is safe.

Suddenly, a familiar figure appears—a woman with warm, gentle eyes whom the narrator recognizes as her mother. Overcome with emotion, she runs to embrace her, finding comfort and love in her presence. Her mother reveals that she has watched over her from afar but was not allowed to intervene. She shares a profound secret: the narrator is part Lycan, born from two worlds, which makes her compatible with her mate and destined to lift his curse.

As the mother fades away, she encourages the narrator to open her eyes and see her mate, Abel, who is waiting for her. When the narrator opens her eyes again, she finds Abel beside her, alive and real. Their reunion is filled with tears and relief, as they hold each other tightly, grateful to be together again. Abel reassures her that their daughter Snow is safe, healthy, and thriving.

The chapter closes on a hopeful note, with Abel comforting the narrator and promising that from now on, everything will be okay. Their shared love and reunion mark a new beginning, filled with safety, happiness, and the strength to face whatever comes next.

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Chapter 394: We Made It

Was this truly heaven?

The world around me was a boundless expanse of pure white—so brilliant and unblemished that even the faintest shadow seemed impossible. When my eyelids fluttered open, I found myself immersed in a soft, endless glow that had no edges, no sound, no weight. It was as if time itself had melted away.

If this was death, then it was a serene kind of peace.

I attempted to move, but it was like wading through a thick, ethereal mist. Slowly, I turned my head, searching the emptiness for any sign—someone to speak, something to break the silence.

But there was nothing.

“So, this is heaven,” I whispered, my voice barely audible in the stillness. “It’s… so pure.”

A small smile touched my lips. “At least it smells nice,” I added softly, as if that small comfort mattered. “That’s something, I guess.”

Yet beneath the calm, a sudden ache blossomed inside me—a deep, aching longing. I missed him terribly.

Wasn’t this place supposed to wipe away earthly ties? Shouldn’t pain, love, and loss fade into nothingness here?

“Wait,” I murmured aloud, confusion creeping in. “Don’t they erase your memories in heaven?”

If that was true, it wasn’t working for me. Because all I could think about was him.

My heart tightened as I recalled his final words: Keep fighting. I’m here.

And then there was Snow—my little girl. Had she made it? Was she still alive? Was she crying for me?

“Please,” I whispered to the vast whiteness surrounding me, “please let her be okay.”

I didn’t expect a reply. But then, breaking through the endless light, a figure appeared.

A woman stood before me, her long hair cascading gently down her back, the warm chestnut color glowing softly in the light. Her posture was calm and graceful, heartbreakingly familiar.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. “Mom?” I barely breathed.

Before I could stop myself, my legs began to move—faster and faster—until I was running, my footsteps barely making a sound on the soft ground. “Mom!” I called out again, my voice trembling with hope and disbelief.

She turned to face me.

Her eyes were gentle, the same kind and radiant gaze I remembered from my childhood. Her smile was warm and full of love, untouched by time or sorrow, shining softly as if she belonged to this ethereal place.

Tears blurred my vision as I threw myself into her arms. The warmth of her embrace was immediate and familiar, comforting me like a balm to my soul. My whole body shook as I clung to her, sobbing like a frightened child.

“Mom,” I whispered through my tears. “It’s been so long… I thought—”

“I know,” she said softly, her voice a soothing melody. She pulled back just enough to cup my cheeks, gently wiping away my tears with her thumbs. Her touch was like sunlight warming my skin. “I missed you too, my darling.”

I couldn’t stop crying. “You watched me?”

Her smile faltered slightly, trembling with emotion. “Every day,” she breathed. “I watched you grow. I saw you love. I saw you fall and rise again. I wanted to come down there, to help you, to take away your pain… but I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed.”

She pressed her forehead against mine, her voice tender. “But I’m so glad—so incredibly glad—that someone went down there to cherish my baby. I’m so glad you found him.”

“But I’m here now,” I whispered, voice trembling. “I made it, Mom. I’m finally here.”

Her smile was bittersweet, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Do you think this is where you’ll stay?”

“I don’t have a choice,” I replied quietly.

She nodded, then leaned closer. “But I hope you can see them one more time,” she said softly. “Just one more time. Abel and Snow.”

“You can,” she assured me.

My eyes widened in disbelief. “I can?”

Slowly, she brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. “There’s something you don’t know,” she said gently. “Something you were never told.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, heart pounding.

“Your grandfather,” she revealed, “was a Lycan.”

I froze, the word hanging in the air like a secret I wasn’t prepared for.

“You already understand what that means,” she smiled softly.

I murmured, piecing it together. “I’m part Lycan… but how?”

She took my hands in hers, warmth radiating from her touch. “Because I was the woman,” she explained with tenderness. “I carried the balance. You were our blessing, born from two worlds. And that blessing lives on.”

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