Shattered Bonds: A Second Chance Mate - Chapter 45: Chapter 45

The night after the exhibition attack felt like it stretched forever.
I sat by the window of my new room at the Lycan estate—my room now, apparently—wrapped in a thick robe, with the scent of lavender still clinging to my skin from the healing bath.
The moonlight bathed the room in silver, and I could see the guards pacing the perimeter outside, shadows flickering along the garden wall. Inside, it was quiet, warm, safe. But my heart was anything but still.
Francesco hadn’t left my side since the moment he arrived.
He’d held me as the campus chaos unraveled, his arms tight around me, shielding me from more than just harm. It was as if he needed to confirm I was real, alive, breathing. And once we returned to the estate, he sat beside me through every medical check, every healer’s visit, every debrief with his warriors.
Now, he was asleep on the couch across the room, his large frame curled uncomfortably against the cushions, still in his black shirt and boots. His coat had been draped over me earlier, before I slipped out of bed to clear my thoughts.
I looked at him. The Alpha.
But here, like this, he was just Francesco.
Mine.
Not Anastasia’s.
I shivered, even though the room was warm.
Not from fear, but from the weight of what I’d learned. What the rogue had said. What I’d felt in my own body—magic.
Old magic. Witch-born.
Anastasia’s magic. But... passed to me?
My reflection in the window flickered, and for a moment, I saw not myself, but the blue fire dancing in my hands.
Was this truly who I was now?
A soft rustle made me turn.
Francesco stirred, groaning low as he sat up, running a hand over his face. His hair was a tousled mess. His shirt clung to his chest, and the exhaustion etched into his features pulled at something deep in me.
He looked at me then, eyes hazy but focused. "You should be in bed."
I smiled faintly. "So should you."
He rose and walked over, wrapping the coat tighter around my shoulders. His hand lingered there, warm and solid.
"I couldn’t sleep," I murmured.
"Neither could I." He replied quietly.
There was a long pause.
Then I turn my gaze back at him before I asked, “Did you know Anastasia was a witch?”
He stiffened…
Just slightly, but enough for me to feel it.
“I suspected,” he said quietly. “But she never confirmed it. And I never asked.”
I tilt my head “Why?”
He looked out the window with me. “Because I didn’t want it to change how I saw her. And because love can make fools of even the strongest of men.”
The silence that followed was heavy. Not awkward, but thoughtful.
“She did love you,” I said softly with a small smile forming on my face.
He turned to me, surprise flickering in his gaze. “How do you know that?”
“She showed me,” I whispered with a shrug. “Or maybe... her magic did. Her memories. When I used that fire... I felt her. And her sorrow. She betrayed the rogue leader because she chose you. But it started as a lie.”
Francesco closed his eyes for a long moment.
He sighed “I know,” he finally said. “I didn’t back then. But after she died... I began to wonder. Especially when the rogues didn’t stop.”
I see… Yes, he must notice.
“Do you hate her?”
“No,” he answered without hesitation. “But it was never what I feel for you, Ellaine. That was... youth. Hope. What I feel for you is something else. Deeper. Stronger. I think it always has been—even before I admitted it to myself.”
My heart tightened by the way he want to explained even though I know but still.. hearing from him, means a lot.
I leaned into his side, and he pulled me gently into his arms.
We stood like that for a while, wrapped in each other, until sleep began to pull at the edge of my mind.
The next morning, I woke in his bed, the spot beside me empty but still warm.
A tray of warm tea and croissants waited on the nightstand, along with a folded note:
Gone to the council meeting. Stay inside the estate. We doubled the guards. I’ll be back before lunch.
—F
I smiled at the scrawled signature, then moved to the window. The garden outside looked peaceful. I felt strangely drawn to it, like the first time I come into the Alpha manor, but something feel different since I get this magic things inside me.
Later that morning, after confirming with Audrey that I’d be safe within the grounds, I ventured outside.
The garden stretched wide and wild, roses blooming in spirals and ivy climbing up marble columns. But at the far end, near the oldest part of the estate, I noticed something strange—a gate I hadn’t seen before.
It was rusted, covered in vines, and partially hidden behind a willow tree.
My fingers brushed over the iron latch.
Magic shimmered faintly.
A memory—Anastasia’s?—flashed behind my eyes. This gate had been sealed. By her.
I pressed my palm to the metal.
Blue light pulsed.
The vines withered before the gate creaked open.
Inside was a hidden garden—overgrown but beautiful. Wild herbs and moonflowers swayed under the morning light.
At the center stood a stone pedestal with a crystal orb resting atop it.
I stepped forward…
The moment my fingers touched the orb, it lit up, and a projection shimmered to life before me.
Anastasia’s image.
Not solid. It’s a memory... A message…
“Ellaine,” she said, voice echoing softly. “If you’ve found this, then the bloodline has accepted you. The bond has chosen. Francesco’s heart belongs to you now.
I never meant to fall in love with him. But I did. And for that, I betrayed the one who created me. The one who sought to destroy the Lycan bloodline.
You are more than a Luna. You are the second flame—the bridge between magic and moon. The one who can end what I began. I’m sorry. I hope he forgives me. And I hope you forgive me, too.”
The vision faded.
I stood frozen.
The second flame.
A Luna. A witch. A wolf.
I didn’t know what it meant yet, but I knew one thing: I couldn’t tell Francesco. Not now. Not yet. It would hurt him to know Anastasia’s love began as a lie—even if it ended in truth.
So, I turned and left the hidden garden, sealing the gate behind me.
For now, I would carry the secret. For him. For us.
And when the time came to face the rogue leader—the one Anastasia once served—I would be ready.
Because I wasn’t just Francesco’s Luna anymore.
I was the fire born under moonlight.
And I was done hiding.