Shattered Bonds: A Second Chance Mate - Chapter 47: Chapter 47

The training grounds lay just beyond the forest line—a flat open field surrounded by trees and old stone pillars that gave it the feel of an ancient arena.
The first day, I barely lasted an hour.
Warmups alone left me breathless. Marlow barked orders like a drill sergeant while Audrey gently corrected my posture, balance, and stances.
“You’re leading with your shoulders,” she said, adjusting my arm again. “You need to move from your core.”
“I don’t have a core,” I wheezed. “It died somewhere back in the jumping jacks.”
Marlow laughed. “Don’t worry. It’ll rise from the grave eventually.”
Sweat dripped into my eyes. My legs shook. My body, so used to quiet routines—paint, books, walks—had no clue how to respond to this sudden war-zone regimen.
But I didn’t give up.
Every time I fell, I got back up. Every time I made a mistake, I asked for the correction. I wanted to know where I was weak—so I could become stronger.
Francesco didn’t come down.
But I felt him.
Each morning, as the sun crested the trees, I’d sense a presence near the edge of the forest. Mika, my wolf, always whispered: He’s watching. And somehow, that made the ache in my muscles worth it.
This wasn’t just for me anymore.
It was for the girl who never had the chance to train, to grow, to fight back.
It was for the Luna I was trying to become.
And for the pack who needed to see what I was made of.
Even if I had to bleed to prove it.
Go to Francesco – Alpha of Italian Pack point of View:
I shouldn’t be watching her.
Not like this. Not every day. Not from the shadows like some half-broken ghost.
But I can’t help it…
Every morning, without fail, my senses pull toward the edge of the training grounds. I tell myself I’m just checking her progress. That as her Alpha, I need to be informed.
But that’s a lie.
I come because I need to see her.
My Luna. My mate. My Ellaine...
She moves awkwardly—her stance too open, her fists too tight—but there's fire in her. A fierce, unrelenting fire that burns brighter than any warrior I’ve trained beside.
She's never learned to fight, never shifted, never been given the tools to survive in this brutal world... and yet here she is, bruising her knuckles and blistering her feet, just to take back some control.
And I hate it.
I hate that she needs this.
I hate that someone made her feel this powerless.
Lucas growls low in my chest, restless, furious. ‘Why must she do this? We are strong for her. We protect her. Why is that not enough?’
Because she’s not the girl who waits in towers for rescue.
She’s the one who breaks the door down herself.
And deep down... I know even Lucas and I can’t cage her spirit.
“Alpha?” Beta Alfonso’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I glance toward him, realizing I’ve been standing at the balcony window of my office for far too long, arms crossed, eyes locked on the field below where she trains with Marlow and Audrey.
Again…
“You should go down there,” he says casually. “Say hi. Or growl like an overprotective wolf. Either works.”
I smirk, but I don’t look at him. “She’ll get nervous if she sees me.”
“You think she hasn’t noticed you watching her every day?”
“She’s focused,” I mutter. “I don’t want to distract her.”
He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the distant bark of Marlow’s voice instructing her to fix her stance again.
“Are you alright?” Alfonso asks gently.
He knows me too well.
I exhale slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Just... worried.”
He steps beside me, following my gaze. “It’s strange, isn’t it? After everything... after so many years of silence in your heart—then she comes. And turns your entire world upside down.”
I grunt. “With her stubbornness, gods above.”
He chuckles. “Yet here you are, letting her fight. Letting her get bruised and battered.”
“I can’t say no to her,” I murmur. “Even when I want to. She’s my everything.”
We fall into a heavy silence.
And then he speaks again, quieter this time. “Have you told her about... the other thing?”
I stiffen.
He doesn’t finish the sentence because he doesn’t need to. We both know what he’s talking about.
The surge of power that radiated from Ellaine during the rogue attack. The unnatural warmth in the air. The subtle glow that wrapped around her skin like light bending to her will. Not wolf. Not fully.
“She’s something else,” Alfonso murmurs.
“I know.”
“She’s like... her.”
I don’t answer, Alfonso knows, he always knows from long time ago about her truly are, even when she tries to hide it from everyone.
Anastasia—my former mate, a witch who died far too young and left a mark on this world too deep to forget.
But somehow, some way, the essence of her magic—the last remnants of her strength—are now stirring inside my Ellaine. A connection I don’t understand. A legacy neither of us asked for.
“She’s changing,” Alfonso says.
“She’s awakening,” I correct, my voice low.
And I’m terrified.
Not of her—but of what the world might try to do once they discover who she’s becoming.
So I do what I’ve always done.
I train…
Yes, every night, after meetings and briefings, after pretending to rest, I disappear into the dark forests behind the estate—the place only I and the spirits know.
I shift. I fight phantom enemies. I push my body until it aches. Until I collapse. Until the Alpha I was—the warrior I was born to be—comes back sharper, stronger.
Marlow and Alfonso have tried to stop me. Pleaded, even.
But I can’t stop… Because if I am stronger, then Lucas will be too.
And if Lucas is strong... then we will be strong enough to protect her.
From anything. From everything.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to breathe again.
That night, I sense her before I see her.
The door creaks open slowly, and there she is—Ellaine, dragging her feet into our room, cheeks flushed, hair tied messily, her clothes damp with sweat and dust from the field.
She doesn't say a word. She looks half asleep on her feet.
I’m across the room in seconds.
“Ellaine,” I whisper, gently taking her hand before she collapses. “You pushed too hard again.”
She tries to shake her head, but even that movement seems to drain her. “I’m fine,” she mumbles.
Stubborn!!!
I don’t argue her, instead, I scoop her up in my arms, carry her into the bathroom, and turn on the warm water.
She leans into me silently as I wash the dirt from her skin, brushing hair from her forehead and wiping away sweat and grime with a gentleness I didn’t know I possessed.
Her eyes flutter closed.
By the time I dry her off and carry her to bed, she’s barely conscious, her hand clutching the front of my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll disappear.
I tuck her in carefully, sitting beside her for a long while, brushing my fingers through her hair.
“Rest,” I whisper, pressing my lips to her forehead. “Tomorrow will be better.”
Because I’ll make sure of it.
No matter what storm is coming.
She won’t face it alone. Never when she has me.