Shattered Bonds A Second Chance Mate (by Yui) novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43

The cand on my nightstand had long since melted into a pool of wax, but hadn’t moved from the armchair by the window.

sketchbook was open in my lap, though the page was still blank

Outside, the moon hung low over the rolling hills, casting soft silver over the olive groves. The Alpha Manor was quiet. Peaceful. But inside me..

everything had changed.

Anastasia had come to me.

Not in the way ghosts usually haunt stories–not with flickering lights or icy winds–but in a dream so vivid left the scent of lavender and burnt herbs lingering in the air when I woke

She was beautiful..

Not just in the way people describe the dead–forever youthful glowing–but truly radiant. Tall, with dark auburn hair, piercing violet eyes, and an expression that carried centunes of

“You’re stronger than lever was

I through the cypress trees.

“I’m not trying to replace you’d whispered in the dream.

A small smile tugged the pure not replacing You’re fulfilling ”

And then.

Not with words.

sured through ima lika bra and water. Her mission. Her betrayal. Her unexpected

in who couldn’t help herst And the price she paid for that

She died for that betray

But she never h

Francesco nevnt

That she was the dagger meant for his heart, wrapped ink and spets. That he was only ever a

I held my head in my h

What did with th

sid him, it would destroy hus

I carry it alone. Not out of fear. But out of love

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memory with a sacred silence we never dared break. And now carry this truth

Chapter 43

Monica peeked in, still in her soft knit sweater and jeans, her brown curls falling freely over her shoulders, “Wipha Francesco’s still in the meat? Council. Jeremy and Audrey are downstairs. I thought you might want to take a walk.”

Inodded gratefully. “Yes, please.”

The air outside was brisk, the scent of early spring clinging to the breeze. We didn’t say much at first. Just walked the long stone path that wound through the southern gardens, past the rosemary bushes and the abandoned glass greenhouse.

“How are you really? Monica asked gently.

Thesitated. “Tired.”

Her lips curled into a knowing smile. “You mean the kind of tired that sleep can’t fix?”

I gave a small laugh. “Something like that,”

She stopped and looked at me, her gaze serious now. “You don’t have to carry everything alone, you know.”

I wanted to believe her. But how could I

Some truths weren’t meant to be shared.

So, I just smiled and looked up at the sky. “Sometimes we’re given burdens because we’re strong enough to carry them.”

She didn’t push further.

Just took my hand and gave it a soft squeeze.

Later that evening, Francesco returned..

He found me in the library, curled up in the window seat with a book it hadn’t really been reading.

“There’s my Luna,” H

“he murmured, bending down to kiss my forehead.

He smelled of pine and smoke. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing the tattoo on his forearm–the mark of his bloodline.

“You’re late,” I teased, closing the book.

“The Council always is. And they’re growing uneasy.”

I sat up straighter. “Because of the rogue sightings?

He nodded and sat beside me, his golden eyes dark with worry. “They’re organizing. More coordinated than before. Moving in patterns. We suspect…

kadership

I swallowed hard. “You think someone’s leading them again?”

His jaw tightened “They’re looking for something. Or someone.”

I looked away quickly, masking the ripple of fear in my chest. I knew they were.

I’d seen it. In Anastasia’s memories.

“The witches…” I whispered. “Could they be involved?”

His eyes narrowed. “We haven’truled it out,

Inodded, saying nothing more. I couldn’t tell him what I’d seen.

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Chapter 43

Not yet…

Instead, I rested my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat,

would protect him. Even from the past.

Over the next few days, I threw myself into my studies and painting

I even volunteered to help organize the cultural exhibition coming up at the university, pretending everything was fine.

Francesco watched me with quiet admiration and the occasional raised brow when I came home covered in paint, ink, or ancient paper dust.

But the weight never left.

The rogue movements grew bolder. The patrols were doubled. Francesco grew more restless, though he hid it well behind his calm Alpha mask.

Then, it happened again.

Another dream.

Another visit

Anastasia came to me, this time not in soft words or gentle memories–but in warning

‘He’s searching. The rogue leader. The one who killed me. He remembers me. And he knows something has changed.”

I looked at her across the dreamscape–the same ancient forest as before, twisted with magic and memory,

“He wants revenge!” Tasked.

“He wants control,” she said. “And he thinks you are the key to it.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re fated, she whispered. And you don’t know it yet, but your presence is healing what was broken. He fears that.”

The dream ended with a flash of silver eyes and a shadowed figure turning toward me with a growl.

I woke up gasping

The next morning, I requested access to the restricted section of the old university library.

Monica covered for me. Joshua helped slip me past the guards, under the pretense of researching ancient werewoll rites for my project,

In truth, I needed answers, Mika, my wolf, was stirring more and more urging me to be ready.

The dusty tomes whispered secrets as flipped page her page. I found mentions of soul–bonds, of second mates, and even ancient covenants between witches and Lycans.

And there–half–buried in a crumbling book—was a symbol I recognized.

The same one I’d seen in Anastasia’s dream.

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