Shattered Bonds A Second Chance Mate (by Yui) novel Chapter 156

Chapter 156

Ugh….

The first thing I became aware of was the ache.

A slow, deep throb in my muscles, a faint sting where his hands and mouth had been relentless, and the soreness between my thighs that made even the stretch of my legs a reminder of him.

I blinked awake to soft light pouring through the balcony curtains, the world outside golden with dawn. The air smelled faintly of cedarwood and smoke -his scent.

Francesco was sitting at the edge of the bed, his bare back to me, shoulders rigid as if he had been awake for hours. His head was bowed, hands pressed over his face.

“Francesco?” My voice was hoarse, raw.

He turned, and the look in his eyes was something I hadn’t expected. Guilt. Deep, unyielding guilt.

His gaze dropped to the faint marks on my collarbone, the bruises blooming along my hips where his fingers had clutched me too tight, and I saw his jaw tighten.

“I hurt you,” he said quietly, the words rough as gravel.

I sat up slowly, the sheet slipping down my bare body, and reached out to touch his arm. His skin was warm, trembling faintly under my fingers. “You didn’t hurt me,” I whispered. “You claimed me. There’s a difference.”

His breath caught, his chest heaving as if he wanted to believe me but couldn’t. He shook his head, muttering something in Italian under his breath, his voice laced with torment.

I leaned closer, pressing my lips to his shoulder, tasting salt and warmth. “Francesco. I wanted you. All of you. Even this part of you. I enjoyed it.”

The words broke something in him. He turned suddenly, pulling me into his arms, kissing the crown of my head with trembling lips. “Dio, Ellaine… I was too rough. I let my wolf-”

“-be what he is,” I cut him off gently, cupping his jaw. “And I loved it,”

His eyes searched mine, torn between belief and torment, until finally, something eased in him. His forehead pressed to mine, and he exhaled shakily, his grip on me softer this time, tender.

Not long after, he rose and carried me—still naked, still sore–to the adjoining chamber where a marble bath waited, already steaming. I blinked in surprise, realizing he must have ordered it before dawn. The scent of roses and herbs rose with the mist.

He lowered me into the water with a reverence that undid me, his large hands cradling me as if I were glass. The warmth seeped into my sore muscles, drawing a sigh from my lips.

“Better?” he asked, kneeling by the bath, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that was no longer wild, but worshipful.

“Yes,” I breathed, sinking deeper into the scented water.

And then–luxury. I hadn’t noticed before, but the servants must have entered while I slept, leaving trays of fresh fruit, warm pastries, crystal glasses filled with sparkling juice, and delicate flowers scattered along the edges of the bath. Only the Luna. Only the Alpha’s chosen mate could be treated like

this.

For a fleeting moment, it struck me: this was not ordinary. This was not something anyone else would ever have. This was the King of Alphas, the Lycaon himself, and all of this–the warmth, the devotion, the indulgence–was for me.

He bathed me himself, his strong hands moving slowly, almost apologetically, washing away the marks of the night before. Each touch was careful,

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Chapter 156

tender, his guilt still lingering in the gentleness of his fingers.

I caught his wrist, pulling him closer, making him meet my eyes. “Don’t punish yourself for foving me the way you did,” I whispered. I want all of your Francesco. The wolf, the man, the king. Only you.”

His expression softened, as if the chains around his heart loosened just a little.

He bent to kiss me, this time not hungry or rough, but slow–like a man savoring the one thing he never thought he’d deserve

And as I leaned back into the bath, surrounded by steam, fruit, flowers, and the careful hands of the Lycan King himself, I realized something with a sudden, startling clarity.

I was his.

And that meant I would always have the very best he could give.

I tilted my head, letting my wet hair cling to my skin, and crooked a finger at him.

“Come here, Alpha,” I teased, letting my voice slip low and sultry. “Or do you plan to just stand there and suffer?”

His growl echoed off the marble, low and dangerous, and in the next moment he stripped out of his clothes with no hesitation.

Oh God, the sight of him–powerful, scarred, utterly male–made heat coil inside me all over again.

Damn, he’s mine, right?

He joined me in the bath, the water lapping high on his chest. His hands came to cradle my waist, but there was a restraint in his touch now, as if he feared to grip me too tightly.

I leaned closer, lips brushing his ear. “Francesco…” I let my breath tickle his skin, my hand sliding boldly down his chest. “Do you know what I want?”

He groaned, forehead pressing to mine. “You should be resting, piccola. After last night-”

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