Shattered Bonds A Second Chance Mate (by Yui) novel Chapter 160

Chapter 160

The first thing I felt was cold.

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Not the crisp air of dawn or the soothing chill of mountain wind, but a damp, suffocating cold that seeped into my bones and made my skin crawl.

My body was heavy, pinned by something I couldn’t see, and every breath I took tasted of stone, water, and old blood.

I forced my eyes open.

Darkness pressed in on all sides, broken only by faint, sickly white flames dancing atop iron braziers. The light didn’t warm the room; it seemed to swallow it instead, bending shadows into strange shapes along the carved walls.

Symbols–circles, runes, markings I didn’t recognize–covered every surface. They pulsed faintly, as though alive, whispering in a language too ancient and wrong for me to comprehend.

The weight across my wrists and ankles made me jolt. Chains. Silver–plated, biting into my skin.

I tried to move, tried to summon strength, but every bruise screamed, every muscle trembled, and I realized my body had been stripped down to weakness.

The pain from Henri’s blow still lingered at the side of my skull, leaving the world fuzzy at the edges.

And then I saw her.

A figure stood in the center of the chamber, wrapped in a strange, shifting light.

At first glance, she seemed angelic–long hair like a sheet of silver, a flowing white gown, eyes full of tenderness. Her presence radiated purity, warmth, the kind of image that could deceive even the most cautious heart.

But I knew.

I knew instantly, instinctively.

That wasn’t Cristina.

That wasn’t a Luna.

The glow wasn’t holy. It was hollow, stretched thin like skin over rot. Her smile was too sharp, too patient, too hungry. And when her gaze met mine, a shiver raced through me so violently I nearly gagged.

The devil behind the mask.

The Succubus.

Her voice slithered into the air, soft, coaxing, but it scraped against my mind like claws.

“So… you are the one. The soul bright enough, strong enough. The King’s chosen. Finally, you are here.”

My heart pounded. My throat tightened, but before I could force words out-

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Chapter 160

Images crashed into my head.

Not my memories. Not dreams.

His.

I saw Alpha Henri as a younger man–proud, tall, with eyes filled not with madness but with love.

His arms wrapped around a woman, beautiful and kind–eyed, her laugh like the chime of bells. Cristina. His Luna. His fated

mate.

She was radiant, her hand resting protectively over the swell of her stomach. She was carrying his child. Their future. Their

joy.

The vision shifted.

Cristina stood at the edge of the lake, smiling stubbornly as pack members warned her not to go.

“Just a short swim,” she said, laughter bubbling on her lips. Henri, ever indulgent, gave in, though worry lingered in his

eyes.

She slipped into the water. The sunlight sparkled against the surface, her silver hair trailing like a ribbon. She looked ethereal. Untouchable.

Then-

A sudden scream.

Her body jerked, legs thrashing. Her hand reached up, desperate.

Cramp. Her calf had seized, locking her body in agony.

“Cristina!”

The water swallowed her cry.

Pack members dove in. Henri himself plunged, arms tearing through the lake with frantic strength. But when they dragged her up, it was too late. Her body was limp, her skin pale, her lips blue.

And inside her belly-

The unborn child stilled forever.

Henri’s wail shook the forest. A howl that wasn’t just grief, but something that shattered deep within his soul.

The vision changed.

Days blurred into nights. Henri wandered alone, eyes hollow, unshaven, ignoring the pack, ignoring everything but the crushing weight of his loss. Food untouched. Duty abandoned. His Alpha’s pride crumbled into dust.

Then came the books.

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Chapter 160

Forbidden tomes hidden in ruins, stolen from dark libraries, texts no sane Alpha should ever touch. Pages inked with blood and shadow. Spells whispered of bargains, of bending death itself.

He read them all.

Devoured them.

Until one night, unable to endure the silence of the world without her, Henri walked back into the lake.

He let himself sink.

The water closed over his head, and as his lungs screamed, he saw her.

Cristina.

Or… something wearing her face.

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“Henri…” The voice was soft, broken. “Help me… I’m trapped. I can come back to you. To us. But I need strength. I need…

souls.”

She touched his cheek, her fingers cold as ice. His heart, shattered and desperate, didn’t care. He clung to the illusion.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Anything. Whatever it takes.”

And so the pact was made.

The Succubus drank his grief, fed on it, and in return, she gave him hope. A promise that if he fed her enough power, she

could rebuild what was lost. She could return Cristina to him.

The visions came faster now.

Missing villagers.

Bodies drained, never found.

Ambushes against rogues and outsiders. Every death was fuel for her. Every soul ripped from flesh was another step

toward her full form.

But none were enough.

She grew stronger, yes, but not whole. Never whole.

Until… me.

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