Shattered Bonds A Second Chance Mate (by Yui) novel Chapter 219

Chapter 219

The morning felt heavy.

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Not because of the weather–the sun was out, pale gold threading through the shutters of our chamber–but because of the silence pressing in from the halls beyond.

Silence in a house filled with wolves was never natural.

Wolves thrived on sound: footsteps echoing down corridors, sparring grunts in the yard, laughter rising from

kitchens.

Silence meant something had cracked.

I stirred beneath the blankets, my body still sluggish from the poison.

Lira’s herbs lingered bitter on my tongue, their scent still clinging to my skin.

Francesco had hardly left my side since that night. He lay stretched across the bed beside me now, one arm thrown protectively over my waist as though even in sleep he feared someone might take me. His hand twitched when I moved, the reflex of a man who had learned too many times what it meant to wake to loss.

I kissed the back of his hand gently and slid from beneath it.

Mika stirred inside me, her ears pricked. ‘Careful,‘ she warned. ‘Something’s wrong. The pack’s heartbeat is off.‘

Yes, I felt it too.

That restless energy in the air, like the moments before a storm when birds went silent.

The corridor outside confirmed it.

Warriors stood stiff at intervals, their eyes alert, but there was no chatter, no easy banter.

Heads dipped respectfully as I passed, but their gazes carried unease.

It’s like they were guarding something—not just me.

Monica met me at the bottom of the stairs, her face pale, hands wringing her healer’s cloth.

“Luna.” She bowed, but her voice wavered.

“What is it?” My stomach twisted.

She hesitated. “There’s been… an incident. You should come.”

I followed her through the manor, my bare feet whispering against stone.

The air grew colder the deeper we went, until we reached the side courtyard near the old barns. A cluster of

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Chapter 219

warriors stood there, their bodies forming a tense circle.

When they saw me, they parted.

The smell hit me first.

It’s bitter. Acrid. Metallic.

My throat clenched before my eyes confirmed what my body already knew.

On the ground lay a man.

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One of the kitchen hands–I recognized him faintly from the days I’d spent slipping into the kitchens to help

Maria.

His face was slack, his lips stained with a faint green tinge. His eyes stared sightless at the sky.

Monica knelt beside him, her hands moving with a healer’s precision but her face drawn with dread. “He’s gone,” she said softly. “The poison. It’s the same as yours.”

The same.

I staggered back a step, bile rising in my throat.

Not from fear for myself—Lira’s healing had steadied me—but from the realization.

No, this wasn’t just a poisoning. It was silencing. Someone had killed the man who might have known how the tainted cake reached me.

Francesco arrived then, his presence like a thunderclap.

He strode into the courtyard, Marlow and Alfonso close behind him. His Black eyes swept the scene, and the air shifted instantly–wolves stiffened, the tension sharpening. Power rolled off him, barely leashed. He crouched over the body, nostrils flaring as he inhaled. His jaw tightened.

“The same scent,” he growled. “The same bitterness she tasted.” His gaze flicked to me, softer for a heartbeat, then hardened again. “They mean to tell me something.”

Alfonso’s mouth was grim. “Not just you, my King. It seems like they mean to tell everyone. That we cannot keep even our Luna safe. That we cannot keep a kitchen boy alive within our own walls.”

The words landed like stones in my stomach.

And worse–he was right.

Already whispers were spreading. I could feel it in the bond we all shared as a pack, the restless shuffle of fear moving through minds and bodies. A man was dead. And his death smelled like mine.

Marlow’s hands flexed at his sides. “This is strategy. Someone wants the people to doubt. They couldn’t break you with poison, so they strike faith instead. They want wolves looking at you, my King, and asking if you are strong enough to protect them.”

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Chapter 219

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Francesco’s eyes blazed. For a moment I thought he might shift right there in the courtyard, rage pouring too hot to contain. But then his gaze cut to me, and I saw the war inside him: fury demanding blood, love demanding restraint.

“My love,” he said low, so only I could hear. “They will not take you from me. But if they cannot take you, they will try to take the people’s faith. That is how kingdoms rot.”

I reached for his hand. His fingers clenched around mine so tight it almost hurt, but I didn’t let I go. will not let them rot it,” I whispered back.

He looked at me a long moment, then nodded once.

The decision settled into his shoulders.

“Then we

“Burn the body,” he ordered Alfonso. His voice carried, iron wrapped in flame. “We will not let their poison spread even in death. And gather the people tonight in the hall. I will speak to them. They will hear truth from me before lies take root.”

Alfonso bowed. Marlow barked orders. The warriors moved.

But, as the circle broke, I caught the edge of murmurs. Eyes darting. Fear unspoken.

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