Shattered Bonds A Second Chance Mate (by Yui) novel Chapter 195

Chapter 195

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The torches along the courtyard still guttered as if they, too, had been shaken by what had passed.

My pulse was only just steadying when the air shifted again—this time familiar, beloved.

Francesco.

This is his scent… My Francesco…

He came from the treeline like a storm unchained, fur melting into skin, the great dark Lycan folding into the man I knew.

He must heard about what happen here, maybe Audrey or Monica has mindlink him, that’s why he’s here.

His chest was bare, streaked with gore, the metallic tang of blood still clinging to him like a second skin showing how he come in hurry without thinking about his appearance.

His eyes burned golden in the torchlight, fury and fear woven together in a way that made my breath catch.

Behind him, Hi beta, Alfonso and leader warrior Marlow thundered in, two best trusted warrior of us still in their wolves shifting back into men as they took in the scene: rogues‘ blood on the stones, Monica’s pale face, Audrey’s blade still gleaming with readiness, and me–standing very still in the aftermath of Dorian’s venom.

“You okay?” Francesco’s voice was rough, urgent.

He crossed to me in three strides, hands hovering as though afraid to touch until I gave permission.

I forced my lips into a smile, nodding once. “I’m fine.”

But his nostrils flared. He didn’t believe me. Not fully.

His gaze darted to Audrey, the command sharp in his tone. “What happened?”

Audrey hesitated–just long enough to glance at me for permission–then she spoke.

Her voice was steady, but each word was a blade driven into Francesco’s chest.

“He came with rogues… Alpha Dorian.” She started, much to shocked everyone, but they didn’t say anything and let her continue. “He wanted the Luna cornered, but he spoke more than he struck. His… hatred runs deep. He told her of his mother. Of how she worshipped your father, how his jealousy rotted their home. He blames the Lycaon name for every crack in his childhood.”

The silence that followed was heavier than any chain.

I watched Francesco’s face change—anger softening into something worse. Not fear, not even sorrow, but that particular stillness he carried when old wounds were prodded open.

His jaw clenched, his gaze flickered, and for the briefest moment he looked not like a King, not like my Alpha, but like a boy who had carried too much too young.

8:57 Mon, Sep 29 d.

Chapter 195

My chest ached.

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Because I know it hurts him that people still judge him becaue of his family sin, it isn’t fair, I trust him, I know he’s not like that, he’s not his father, just because he has the Lycaon name doesn’t mean he is like them.

Looks like I need to know about his family after all, I thought, watching the shadows gather in his eyes.

“Where is he?” Alfonso’s voice broke the stillness, sharp as a blade drawn. His Beta instincts were raw, ready. “Alpha Dorian. Where did he go?”

“Gone,” Audrey answered, her sword lowering at last. “He melted into the woods with his rogues. But he left words behind sharper than any blade.”

Marlow’s lip curled. “Damn coward. Strikes with whispers and shadows, then flees”

But Francesco wasn’t listening.

His gaze was still on me, searching, cataloguing every breath, every tremor of my hand, as though needing proof I hadn’t been harmed.

He lifted a hand, cupping my cheek with blood–stained fingers, his voice low and raw. “Tell me, Luna. Tell me what he said to you.”

I swallowed, the memory of Dorian’s sneer still burning. “He spoke of hatred. Of the Lycaons…. He tried to poison me with his story–how your family saw others as beneath them, how his mother adored your father and broke her own mate with that worship. He wanted me to believe you would break me too. That your love was no different–convenience, power, not truth.”

Francesco’s hand stilled on my skin.

For a heartbeat, his eyes closed.

And in the bond, I felt it: the sting of recognition.

Dorian’s words were lies sharpened with shards of truth, and those shards had found their mark.

“Francesco,” I whispered, pressing my hand over his. “Look at me.”

His eyes opened, burning brighter, but there was no fury in them now–only the weight of something older.

Something he had carried long before me.

“You didn’t believe him, did you?” His voice was quiet, almost boyish, as though the question itself cost him more than a battle.

My throat tightened.

Gods, he thought I might?!

“No!” I said firmly. “I know you. Not the Lycaon name. Not the shadows of your family. You!!”

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