Shattered Bonds: A Second Chance Mate - Chapter 39: Chapter 39

The door clicked softly shut behind him as he stepped into the room, tension thickening the air.
For a long moment, we simply stared at each other, the past stretching and fraying between us like an old, torn tapestry.
Ruben was the first to break the silence.
He looked down, exhaling sharply, before raising his eyes to meet mine—eyes that once held promises and dreams, now filled with regret.
"You've changed," he said, voice low and rough.
A statement, not a compliment.
I tilted my head slightly. "So have you."
He winced, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
"I thought I was doing the right thing," he said, almost pleadingly. "I thought... rejecting you was for the best. For the pack. For our future."
"And was it?" I asked softly, no venom in my tone, only curiosity.
He faltered. The answer was written all over his face.
"No," he whispered. "It wasn't."
I crossed my arms loosely over my chest, feeling oddly detached—as if I were observing this from a distance.
Once, I might have crumbled hearing that.
Once, I might have clung to those words like a lifeline.
But now? Now they meant nothing.
"You didn't just reject me, Ruben," I said gently, "you broke me. You humiliated me. You made a choice—not for the pack, but for yourself. For power."
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, swallowing hard.
“I see that now," he admitted. "I was selfish. Stupid."
He took a step closer, and instantly the guards behind him tensed, but I held up a hand to keep them still.
"I don't expect you to forgive me," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I just needed you to know... I regret it. I regret everything."
A part of me wanted to feel satisfaction—to see him hurting, to relish it. But all I felt was a profound, peaceful emptiness.
"I used to hate you, Ruben.. but not anymore" I said quietly. "Now, I don't even pity you."
I let my words settle in the space between us, heavy and final.
"I just don't belong to you anymore. I never really did." I added firmly.
His face crumpled, years of guilt and longing crashing down on him.
"You love him," he said, more a statement than a question.
I smiled—a soft, genuine smile that surprised even me.
"With everything I am," I whispered.
A shuddering breath left him, as if that truth cut deeper than any blade.
But he nodded, acceptance—bitter and grudging—shadowing his features.
"He's a lucky bastard," he muttered.
The door behind him opened slightly, and there, leaning casually against the frame, was Francesco.
Not intervening. Not growling or asserting dominance. Just watching, golden eyes calm and steady, his presence enough to fill the room with raw, undeniable power.
Ruben stiffened immediately, instinctively bowing his head in submission, recognizing that he stood before not just a rival—but a superior.
Francesco said nothing. He didn't need to.
The message was clear: She is mine. And you will respect that.
Ruben turned back to me, shoulders squared with an effort that spoke of pride barely hanging on.
"I wish you happiness, Ellaine," he said, voice hoarse. Then, almost brokenly, he added, "You deserve it... ANd I am sorry, for everything."
Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away, the door clicking softly behind him.
The moment he was gone, I sagged slightly, the weight of the encounter finally pressing down on me.
I stood there, unmoving, staring at the spot where he had just been.
It was strange—how quiet my heart was. No pain. No anger. No longing. Only peace.
Francesco didn’t rush me. He simply waited, his presence wrapping around me like a silent, steady shield.
His scent, so deeply familiar now, lingered in the air—cedarwood, leather, and the primal spice that was uniquely him.
Slowly, I turned to face him. The moment our eyes met, something inside me cracked open. Not in sadness—but in overwhelming relief.
Without hesitation, I crossed the distance between us. Francesco caught me the moment I reached him, his strong arms wrapping securely around my body, lifting me off the ground just enough that my toes barely touched the floor.
I buried my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply, letting myself sink into the sanctuary that only he could offer.
"You did good, piccola luna," he murmured into my hair, his voice low and filled with pride. "I’m proud of you."
A small, shaky laugh escaped me.
"I thought I would feel... something. Anger. Grief. Regret." I pulled back slightly to look at him, my fingers brushing against his jaw. "But all I feel is... free."
His golden eyes softened, molten with warmth and something deeper—something eternal.
"You broke the last chain that tied you to your past," he said, his thumb brushing a stray tear from my cheek. "Now you are truly mine. As I am yours."
His words wrapped around my heart like silk.
Mine. As he was mine. There was no hesitation, no doubt.
I leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling the way his body tensed slightly, always so careful with me now, treating me like something precious—fragile, but not weak.
"I love you," I whispered.
Francesco’s eyes darkened, his wolf stirring just beneath the surface.
"I love you more than life itself, amore mio," he growled, the raw possessiveness in his voice sending shivers down my spine. "I would burn the world for you."
He kissed me then—deep, slow, and claiming.
A kiss that told me without words that I was safe, cherished, adored beyond reason.
When we finally broke apart, the guards still stationed nearby had tactfully looked away, pretending not to notice the display.
I smiled, feeling warmth bloom in my chest. Our family. Our pack. They were mine now, too.
Audrey appeared at the door with Monica, both of them pretending to be annoyed but their eyes betrayed their affection.
"Are you two done?" Audrey asked, hands on her hips. "Some of us would like to leave before the next century."
Monica elbowed her with a grin. "Give them a break. They deserve it."
Francesco chuckled, setting me gently back on my feet.
"We're ready," he said, his hand never leaving the small of my back. A constant, grounding touch.
The pack grounds were buzzing with quiet, respectful activity as we made our way outside.
Dozens of pack members had gathered, lining the main road, heads bowed in farewell. It wasn’t just respect for their Alpha—they were honoring me, too. Their future Luna. Their protector’s heart.
Tears pricked at my eyes again, but this time they were happy tears. Gratitude swelled inside me, so fierce it almost hurt.
Francesco helped me into the sleek black SUV waiting at the front, Audrey and Monica climbing in with us.
The engine purred to life, and with one final look at the grounds that had been my temporary home—and would always be a home to me—we drove away.
The journey back felt surreal. The countryside rolled past the windows—fields bathed in golden morning light, sleepy villages with cobblestone streets, forests draped in mist.
For a while, we rode in comfortable silence.
Francesco’s hand found mine, his thumb tracing lazy circles against my skin, as if grounding himself in me.
I leaned my head against his shoulder, feeling his warmth seep into me.
"You’re quiet," he murmured after a while, pressing a soft kiss to my hair. "Tired?"
I shook my head. "Just... thinking."
"About?"
I hesitated, then smiled. "About how I never thought I would have this. Love. Freedom. A future that feels like mine."
He turned his head to look down at me, a rare, vulnerable tenderness in his gaze. "And you deserve it all, piccola. Every dream, every happiness. And I will make sure you have it."
I swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the intensity of his promise.
With Francesco, it wasn’t just words. It was a vow. An oath written in blood and soul.
The rest of the drive passed in a dreamy haze.
The trip back to Florence passed faster than I remembered.