?Chapter 747:


    Jett’s voice faltered, and his gaze dropped as though the memory was too much to bear. When he looked back up, his eyes were rimmed with red, his grief palpable. “Do you know where your mother is now? Or… has she already…”


    My throat tightened as I recalled Connolly’s words, the pain wing its way back to the surface. “My mother…” I began, my voice trembling. “She died bringing me into this world.”


    The anguish etched into Jett’s features was heartbreaking, his usually sharp gaze clouded by unshed tears. “It’s my fault,” he murmured, his voice cracking under the weight of guilt. “I failed her when she needed me most… I failed to protect her.”


    He tilted his head slightly, his eyes drifting into the distance, lost in the depths of his past. “When I was meant to be escorting her to safety, we were ambushed. I was badly wounded and taken captive by Molly’s family. They locked me away for twenty long years…”


    “Twenty years?” I gasped, my voice rising in disbelief. “And now you’re…”


    Jett seemed to read my unspoken thoughts before I could finish. He shook his head, his sigh carrying the weight of years lost. “I was only fifteen when they captured me. Now, I’m thirty-five.”


    The impact of his words hit me like a blow.


    My mind immediately painted the picture of a young boy—locked away in a cold, lifeless cell, robbed of his youth and vitality. Twenty years of his life, stolen, never to be reimed. What kind of hopelessness, what kind of torment, must that have been?


    A deep sadness welled up in my chest. I took a shaky breath, my voice barely a whisper. “Jett, thank you. You’ve already sacrificed so much… More than anyone could ask for.”


    Jett’s gaze softened as he looked at me, his expression changing as though something was stirring within him. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, the words seemingly trapped in his throat.


    Just then, the sound of footsteps broke the stillness, echoing from outside the courtyard.


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    My heart lurched in my chest. Instinctively, my body tensed, and my eyes locked onto the gate, ready to run at the first sign of danger.


    Makenna’s POV:


    The gate to the courtyard groaned open, and a woman strode in with hurried, uneven steps.


    She was tall, and though she seemed weary, there was a certain unyielding strength about her—a fire that flickered, undimmed, in her posture.


    Her face bore scars like echoes of past battles, and her hair was a wild tangle, with strands stered to her sweat-slick cheeks. Yet, even in this disheveled state, her delicate features were striking, her eyes bright and brimming with determination.


    The moment her gazended on me, her expression transformed—hope and excitement lit up her face. She rushed toward me, her voice eager and breathless. “Are you Makenna?”


    Instinctively, I edged back, wary of this unexpected stranger.


    Before I could form a reply, Jett stepped in, his calm voice cutting through the tension. “Don’t worry. She’s one of the children your mother saved on the battlefield. Her name is Grace Mendez.”


    His words softened the knot of apprehension in my chest. I managed a tentative smile. “Hello.”


    Grace, noticing my hesitation, wiped her hands on her clothes with a cheerful grin, as though brushing off not just dirt but formality. Without warning, she pulled me into a warm, exuberant hug. “It’s an honor to meet you! I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you out of that cursed pce, safe and sound!”


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