Shattered Bonds: A Second Chance Mate - Chapter 53: Chapter 53

Smoke still lingered in the shattered café, curling in tendrils through the broken glass and overturned tables. The scent of blood, adrenaline, and scorched magic clung to the air like a storm that refused to pass.
Francesco cradled me protectively, crouched beside a fallen table as Audrey and the pack warriors moved in tight formation around us. The last of the rogues were being subdued—some unconscious, others too injured to move. The head warrior Francesco brought, a towering Lycan named Dario, moved like a force of nature. His blade flashed silver under the amber lights, his growls echoing like thunder. No rogue stood a chance under his feral onslaught.
But even as order returned, my instincts screamed that something wasn’t right.
It was too easy.
And then… he arrived.
A gust of wind swept into the café as the front door creaked open, and with it came the presence I hadn't sensed until it was too late. Every warrior in the room turned to face the newcomer, weapons drawn, growls building in their chests.
He wore a long dark cloak, hood up, his face partially veiled in shadows—but his aura was unmistakable. It wasn't just power. It was personal.
Francesco froze.
His grip on me tightened ever so slightly as his eyes widened—not in fear, but disbelief.
“Luca?” he breathed, voice low and strangled.
The man stepped into the light with a cruel, knowing smile. “Long time no see… Francesco.”
For a moment, no one moved. Even Dario hesitated, his blade poised mid-air.
I looked up at Francesco, whose expression had turned to stone. His golden eyes—always so steady—now flickered like a fire close to losing control. Rage. Pain. Memories too old and too sharp to dull.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Francesco said quietly, voice heavy with the weight of betrayal.
“Dead?” Luca laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “Oh no, fratello. You only left me for dead. There’s a difference.”
Audrey’s eyes darted to Francesco. “You know him?”
“I did,” Francesco muttered. “Once.”
Luca stepped forward, and I saw the madness in his eyes. “I was the head of your warriors. Your right hand. Your brother by bond, remember? Until you chose your title over me. Until you left me in the ruins of the Eastern Borderlands while you chased your precious diplomacy, just because they said your going to be the king, the Lycan king.”
“That was a war zone,” Francesco growled. “You choose war and allied with rogues and killing innocent people”
“Lies.” Luca’s voice cut through the air. “You forgot me the moment your throne called. But I didn’t forget you, Alpha, because I know I am better than you, always. I defeat you once.... by sending a woman.. witch... Your Anastasia”
He look surprise when Luca laugh like a devil.
Then he pulled something from beneath his cloak—a small, silver-capped syringe. The same kind that had been used on me.
“Now, I could beat you again,” he said, holding it up, “This isn't meant for her. It never was. You were always the target, Francesco. You… and everything you love.”
With inhuman speed, Luca hurled the syringe straight at Francesco.
“No!” I cried out, but Francesco reacted fast.
With one swift motion, he slapped the syringe away, sending it flying toward the floor. But instead of shattering harmlessly, it exploded mid-air with a sudden pulse of violent, green light.
BOOM.
The shockwave knocked over tables and sent a few warriors stumbling. A cloud of thick, dark vapor hissed into the room like a serpent uncoiling.
“Francesco!” I cried, struggling in his arms as he recoiled. His body jerked once—twice—and then he began to cough. Harsh. Deep. Each convulsion wracked his broad frame.
“Run, my sweet Alpha,” Luca sneered, turning on his heel. “I’ll be seeing you again.”
And like a shadow slipping through smoke, he vanished out the broken door and into the night.
“GET HIM!” Audrey screamed, and Dario was already moving, hot on his heels, several warriors in tow. But I knew—deep down—I knew Luca wouldn’t be caught. Not now. Not yet.
My attention snapped back to Francesco. He was on his knees now, one hand braced on the floor, the other still holding me tightly as if letting go would shatter him.
“Francesco,” I whispered, cupping his face. “Talk to me. Please…”
His pupils were dilating fast, the golden irises flickering between wolf and man. His breathing was erratic.
“I… I’m fine,” he gasped. But he wasn’t. Not even close.
Audrey knelt beside us. “That wasn’t a normal toxin. El, help me get him up. We need to get him out of here.”
“No…” Francesco tried to protest, but he couldn’t stay upright. His legs buckled again.
And that’s when I felt it.
Not through sight or sound—but through our bond.
Something was attacking him from the inside.
Dark. Corrosive. Cold.
Poison… laced with dark magic.
The moment I touched his chest, I felt it creeping along his veins like tendrils of shadow, fighting his wolf, trying to suppress the Alpha within him. It wasn't meant to kill him fast. It was meant to unravel him.
Tears welled in my eyes.
“No. No. No…” What should I do?
Anastasia, help me.....
“He needs to get back to the estate,” Audrey snapped. “NOW. I’ll signal the second team. We’re not safe here.”
A warrior arrived at her side. “Backup’s five minutes away.”
“Too long,” she growled. “We go now.”
Within moments, Francesco was lifted into the back of the SUV. I climbed in with him, refusing to leave his side. His body trembled in my arms, sweat slicking his brow, breath growing shallow.
“Stay with me,” I whispered, stroking his hair. “Don’t you dare leave me. Not now. Not ever.”
His eyes fluttered open briefly.
“El… don’t cry.”
“You’re poisoned, idiot,” I snapped, voice cracking. “I’m allowed to cry.”
A weak chuckle escaped his lips. “Still… beautiful… when you're mad.”
Then he passed out.
“GO!” Audrey shouted at the driver, slamming the door. “Take us home!”
The SUV roared down the road, headlights slicing through the night. I didn’t let go of him the entire ride, not even when we reached the estate and the medical team swarmed us. I was ushered out only when Dario himself, covered in cuts and burns, pulled me back with strong but gentle hands.
“You need to let them help him,” he said firmly.
“I can help too,” I insisted. “Please.”
His gaze softened. “You already are. Just stay close.”
I nodded, trembling.
The healers worked for hours.
They cut away his shirt, revealing the burn where the syringe had exploded near his ribs. Black veins spread from the point of impact like poison ivy. Magical runes glowed faintly over the mark.
“Dark alchemy,” one of the healer muttered. “This isn’t just poison. It’s like a curse.”
The lead healer, an older woman named Mother Lira, stepped forward. “She’s right. We can slow it down. But not remove it. We need help from a powerful wizard”
“Who?” I demanded.
"We don't know” Lira said grimly. “The one who created this curse. Only they—or someone bound to them—can undo it.”
A deadly silence followed.
My fists clenched.
So this wasn’t just an attack. It was a declaration. A message carved in venom and fire.
They hadn’t just come for me. They’d come for Francesco.
Because I mattered to him.
Because he mattered to them.
That night, I sat at his bedside long after everyone else had left. His body was still, his breathing shallow. The monitors flickered softly beside him, tracking the faint rhythm of a warrior brought low.
But not broken.
Not yet.
“I’m not losing you,” I whispered, brushing a damp lock of hair from his brow. “I don’t care what poison they used. I don’t care how powerful Luca is. I’ll find a way to save you.”
And in the stillness, a whisper echoed in my mind.
Not my own.
Not Mika.
But… hers.
Anastasia....
'Find my old book about Potion and Herbs'
What?
“What does that mean?” I asked aloud. “Where?”
But no answer came.
Only the rustle of wind outside the window… and the sound of Francesco’s breathing.
Book?
Which mean the old library?
Without hesitation, I ran toward the place where I had first sensed Anastasia’s essence, clinging to the hope that I’d find something—anything—that could help.