Shattered Bonds A Second Chance Mate (by Yui) novel Chapter 229

Chapter 229

Chapter 229

Go to Severine Point of view:

France smelled different from Italy.

The earth here was heavy with rain and old roots; it didn’t remember her name.

No coven had ever called her sister. No altar here carried her blood.

Mother Severine walked the foreign hills like a shadow searching for a reflection.

She shouldn’t have come.

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And yet, whenever she felt the pulse of Lycaon blood – when the wind carried the echo of a Luna’s scream and a King’s roar – she followed.

Now she stood in the ruins of a chapel long claimed by moss and silence.

The stones didn’t know her, but they whispered all the same.

They always whispered to witches –

especially the broken ones.

She looked up at the empty rose window. Moonlight spilled through the shattered glass, scattering across the cracked floor in shards of pale gold.

Dust swirled around her like memories.

This place was not hers.

But pain didn’t care for geography.

She knelt before the cold altar, the air thick with the scent of rain and ash.

Her hands trembled as she touched the surface – not from weakness, but from the echo of something she hadn’t felt in a century.

Doubt…

“Love,” she murmured. “You always survive, don’t you?”

The word hung there like smoke.

She closed her eyes – and he came back to her.

Totti Lycaon.

She still remembered how his voice used to sound when he wasn’t commanding, when he wasn’t cruel when he was charming.

—

15:45 Fri, Oct 10

Chapter 229

The way he said her name like it was a spell he was learning by heart.

–

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She used to live near Florence then a small valley town where the air always smelled of rosemary and sea wind. In the hidden place with other witches.

That was where she met him.

Where she believed.

And where she died, though her body never did.

Severine exhaled sharply, shaking off the memory.

“I gave you my heart,” she whispered, voice trembling. “And you gave me eternity. What a trade.”

The wind shifted through the ruins, carrying with it the faintest scent of roses.

Blue roses.

The ones that only grew in Florence, the ones planted now in that Luna’s garden

It made her jaw tighten.

That scent shouldn’t have reached her here.

And yet, it did.

—

—

Ellaine’s garden.

She saw the girl again in her mind the defiant softness, the calm fire, the way she looked at that Lycaon King not with fear but with faith.

Faith in something Severine had forgotten existed.

She remembered having seen those eyes.

Because, it’s hers once…

That’s why she hate it, that Luna remind her of something that she wants to forget. Because she remind her of herself once, when she have faith to the man she loved.

“Foolish child,” she said aloud, though the words lacked venom. “You think your love will save him. But love does not heal curses – it feeds them.”

Every woman will leave him, Isolde and Anastasia, no one stay… But why she’s different?

She can’t reach the young Luna deeper desire….

Why?

Is she truly love the last Lycaon?

Not wanting more?

15:46 Fri, Oct 10

Chapter 229

Does it possible that someone only wanting love?

Her voice echoed through the hollow chapel, thin and cold.

But even she heard the hesitation buried under it.

She sat down slowly on the cracked steps, her cloak gathering dust around her.

Above her, the moon hung low and indifferent.

For years

-no, centuries – she had told herself that the Lycaons were incapable of love.

That what she’d felt for Totti was a trick of nature, a spell gone wrong.

That he could never feel it back.

That belief had been her armor.

Her reason for vengeance.

Her excuse for the curse.

But now…

Now she’d seen Francesco’s eyes when he looked at Ellaine.

It is not with hunger.

It is not with conquest.

But, with something she couldn’t name because she had buried the word too deep.

She pressed her palm against her chest.

Her heart didn’t beat anymore — but it hurt.

“How can this be?” she whispered. “How can his blood carry what he killed in me?”

No one answered.

Not the stones.

Not the wind.

Not the ghosts she’d made in her long war against the Lycaon name,

But the question lingered.

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She rose and walked to the broken window, staring out at the French countryside bathed in faint starlight.

Somewhere beyond those hills lay the Lycaon King and his Luna – the woman who had defied her curse and

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