Chapter 207
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The weight of Francesco’s fury filled the ward like a thunderstorm contained in walls.
His voice, usually low and commanding with that subtle edge of steel, cracked out now like a whip.
“What did you say to her?”
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Isolde flinched. For the first time since I’d known her, her composure shattered. She had sneered, lied, postured like a queen stripped of her crown, but in that moment, when Francesco’s golden eyes burned into her, she trembled..
“My King-” she began, smoothing her tone, twisting her lips into the silk of false deference.
But he cut her off, his roar breaking the air:
“Don’t call me that! You speak with poison in your mouth! You don’t address me with titles you never respected!”
His shoulders heaved. His fists clenched, trembling not from weakness but from the strain of holding back the violence that surged in him. His wolf prowled beneath his skin, and for a moment, I saw his eyes flash to the molten light of his Lycan form.
“I should have killed you the first time,” he growled, voice ragged. “The moment I saw what you were, I should have ended it. But I was blind. I thought…” His jaw locked, the word love dying in his throat. “No. I was a fool.”
Isolde pressed back against her pillows, the chains at her wrists clinking. For once, the seductress was silent. For once, she looked small.
And I-
I could not bear it.
Not because I pitied her, but because I knew this rage, left unchecked, would devour the man I loved. Francesco was fury incarnate, yes, but he was also tenderness–the tenderness that belonged only to me. If I let this boil over, it would scar him deeper.
So I stepped forward.
“Francesco.”
My voice was quiet, but it was enough. His head snapped toward me, his fury still burning, but when his gaze met mine, something faltered. He breathed hard, chest rising and falling like a storm–tossed sea.
I held his gaze. I would not let him drown.
“I need to tell you myself,” I said softly, though my heart thundered in my chest.
He frowned, confusion cutting through the anger. “Ellaine…”
12:02 Tue, Sep 30
Chapter 207
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“No,” I interrupted gently, stepping closer until I was between him and Isolde. Audrey shifted a half–step forward out of instinct, but I lifted a hand to her without looking. “I need him to hear this from me. Not from her venom. From me.”
The room stilled. Even Isolde leaned forward slightly, sensing that something raw and dangerous was about to unfold. Monica’s hands, which had been fussing with linens at the edge of the ward, stilled against her apron. Alfonso crossed his arms, but his jaw tightened.
I drew a breath that scraped like broken glass down my throat. “She didn’t lie about everything. That’s what makes her words dangerous.”
Francesco’s eyes darkened, but he waited. Always, he waited when it came to me.
I let the truth pour out, raw and trembling.
“She told me you gave your heart to women who never wanted you. Isolde admitted she only wanted your name, your family’s power. Anastasia—” I faltered, the name sharp as a thorn in my mouth. His shoulders stiffened at it. “Anastasia… used magic. Lied to you. Bound you. She didn’t love you either. Both times, you gave pieces of yourself to someone who mocked it. Who mocked you.”
The words cracked something in me. My chest burned as though I’d swallowed fire. “When I heard it, Francesco, I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip her throat out. Not because I was jealous, but because—” My voice broke, tears burning their way free. I didn’t hide them. “Because you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve to be made into a story of power, or a pawn, or a trophy. You are not your name, Francesco Lycaon. You are the man who carried me when I had nothing. Who chose me when the world had already thrown me away.”
Tears streaked hot down my cheeks. I didn’t care that everyone saw. My pain wasn’t shame—it was love laid
bare.
“I was rejected once,” I said, voice shaking. “My mate turned from me for ambition, for power, and it almost destroyed me. I thought no pain could be greater. But when I look at you–at the man who was lied to by those he trusted, not once but twice–I realize I never knew the full weight of betrayal until I saw what they did to you.”
His lips parted, as if to speak, but I raised a trembling hand. “Please. Let me finish.”
I wiped at my tears, smearing dirt from my earlier planting across my cheek, but I didn’t care. “I cannot bear the thought that you might think their lies mean anything about you. I cannot bear the thought that you might believe, even for a heartbeat, that I could love you for your name, or your crown, or your power. Francesco–I love you because you are the man who listens to the silence in me. Who sees me when I try to hide. Who looks at me like I am not a weapon, not a pawn, not a broken thing, but a woman who can be whole again.”
My voice cracked fully now, ragged and desperate. “That’s why I can’t let her venom be the last thing you hear. I need you to know the truth from my mouth. From my heart.”
The room was deathly still. My tears fell in silence.
And then-
Francesco’s fury broke.
12:02 Tue, Sep 30
Chapter 207
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It didn’t vanish. Fury never truly vanishes in him. But it cracked, and from the fissures came something molten and devastating–love, raw and unguarded. His eyes glowed gold not with rage, but with the bond that tethered us.
In two strides he was in front of me. His hands came up, trembling as they cupped my cheeks, smearing away my tears with the same reverence he once kissed my knuckles. His forehead pressed to mine, his breath ragged.
“Ellaine,” he whispered, voice hoarse, like my name was the only prayer he remembered. “Never–never again -will I let anyone make you carry pain that belongs to me.”
My sob shook into him, but his arms caught me, strong, immovable. He gathered me to his chest and held me like he could anchor me to the earth.
“You think I could ever doubt you?” His voice broke. “You–who cried for me when I was too proud to cry for myself? You–who planted hope in the soil while others planted lies? Ellaine… amore mio, you are the only truth I’ve ever been given without cruelty attached.”
I clutched at his shirt, the fabric damp beneath my tears. “Then promise me–promise me you’ll believe me before her, before anyone, always.”
He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. His own were wet now, though he would never let them fall before anyone but me. “I vow it. On my name, on my blood, on the ashes of my cursed family–I vow I will never doubt you. You are my Luna. My mate. My only truth.”
The bond between us flared like fire through dry grass, blazing with power so fierce that even Audrey shifted, startled, at the force of it. Alfonso’s eyes widened, and Monica’s lips parted in awe. Even Isolde, still chained to her bed, looked away with something like defeat etched on her face.
Because she had tried to break us with venom, and instead, we burned brighter.
Francesco kissed me then–not gentle, not soft, but with the desperation of a man who had almost been drowned by lies and now clung to the only breath he trusted. His mouth was salt and heat and vow. I melted into it, pouring my own strength back into him, sealing our truth not with words but with the only language the bond demanded: love.
When we broke apart, gasping, his hands framed my face, and his forehead leaned against mine again. “You will never cry for me alone again. If there are tears, we shed them together. If there is pain, we bear it together. That is my vow.”
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