Shattered Bonds A Second Chance Mate (by Yui) novel Chapter 187

Francesco found me later–not by scent (though I knew he easily could), not by sound (though Francesco always hears me before anyone else)-but because the bond tugged him away from whatever web of strategy Alfonso andMarlow had wrapped him in, and drew him here. To me. To the old garden with the stubborn ivy, where I had set myself down with my charcoal and let memory guide my hands.

He stood just inside the shadow of the arch, saying nothing, watching.

I didn’t hear him at first.

I felt him.

That ripple across my skin, the shiver that runs down a lover’s spine when the one person who knows your every breath arrives and chooses silence instead of announcement. Mika stirred inside me, lifting her head, tail thumping once in firm approval.

I didn’t turn. I let him look.

The page was alive beneath my hand. Charcoal smudges made the fountain deepen, shadows sliding into the stone basin. The fig tree leaned closer, its crooked branches whispering into the white space. In the corner, almost as an afterthought, my hand began sketching the ghost of a man’s outline–tall at the arch, smile folded soft, eyes bright. But before I gave him form, I smudged the lines into dust. A small magic. He would hate to be the subject when the garden wanted to be itself.

His whisper reached me then, part sigh, part laugh, and wholly him.

“My Luna returns to the first magic I met.”

My heart ached and softened all at once.

I looked over my

shoulder.

There was no crown on him now. Just a long coat shrugged over a shirt he’d forgotten to button at the throat, and an honest, unhidden tiredness on his face. The golden flame in his eyes melted the instant he saw me- my fingers blackened with charcoal, my cheek smudged with gray, my knees pressed into thyme. His mouth curved into that rare smile he saved only for me. The kind of smile that carved creases at the corners of his eyes, the ones he pretended he didn’t have.

“I was going to come to you,” I said softly, absurdly pleased that instead, he had come to find me.

“I preferred this,” he answered, voice low. “Finding you making the world gentler.”

He moved carefully, like a predator afraid to scare off a deer, and crouched beside me. His shoulder brushed my thigh, heat seeping into me, steadying the bones I hadn’t realized were trembling. His gaze lingered–first on the

page, then on the wild garden itself, then finally on me. Quiet awe softened the strong line of his mouth.

“You put breath back into things,” he said at last. “That’s the thing you do that makes me worship.”

A small gasp of scandal escaped me, and he smiled wider, entirely unrepentant. He reached for my hand,

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Chapter 187

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turning it palm–up. His thumb traced over the stains of ink and charcoal as if they were gemstones set into my skin. Then, solemn as though it were a vow, he lifted my knuckles and pressed a kiss to each one.

Heat leapt in my throat and sank deeper, spreading like fire beneath my ribs.

“Careful,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You’ll get gray on your lips.”

“Then I’ll wear you to council,” he said, perfectly straight–faced.

I burst into laughter, the sound spilling between us. The tightness in his shoulders eased, and his mouth. softened again. He slid onto the bench beside me, thigh pressed to mine. That lean of his body against mine was effortless possession–mine without taking anything away.

We didn’t speak for a while. We didn’t need to. The bond did the talking. His pride flowed warm into me, sunlight in my chest. My calm returned to him in slow, steady waves, soothing whatever jaggedness lived under his skin.

Finally, his voice brushed against me like velvet.

“I remember the garden in Florence,” he said, and I could hear the color of memory in his tone. “Our first conversation was there. In front of Anastasia’s blue rose.”

The breath caught in my throat. I smiled, a little shyly. “You were still mourning her that day. I never thought I’d end up here–with the silent, frightening Lycan Alpha who had lost his mate.”

The teasing tone in my voice made him laugh. A low, rumbling sound that vibrated in my chest where we leaned together. He gave a playful groan and suddenly tugged me up, pulling me against him. Then his mouth found mine, fierce but reverent, tasting of relief, love, and possession.

Somewhere beyond us, I heard Audrey’s footsteps retreat. She had left us in peace, her presence sliding away like a shadow. I silently blessed her loyalty.

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