Shattered Bonds: A Second Chance Mate - Chapter 63: Chapter 63

Three days...
Three whole days of dust-covered books, glowing runes, strange titles written in ancient ink, and Francesco’s quiet company beside me. And finally, it’s done.
I stand in front of the tall cabinet he ordered for me—wood polished smooth, the scent of pine lingering faintly. Inside, Anastasia’s legacy waits, each book humming with something I can’t explain. Magic. Memory. A warning, maybe.
"Thinking I should read it all... God," I groan, rubbing the back of my neck.
Francesco chuckles behind me, warm arms wrapping around my waist. “I know you could do it,” he says against my hair. I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the small smile that sneaks onto my lips.
“I’m serious,” I mutter. “What if one of these explodes or turns me into a toad?”
“You’re beautiful even as a toad,” he says without missing a beat, and I elbow him gently.
Still, I reach out. Let my fingers hover over the worn spines of books that haven’t been touched in decades—maybe a century.
And then it happens.
One of them glows.
A soft silver light, pulsing beneath the cover like a heartbeat.
I freeze. So does Francesco.
“That’s new,” he mutters.
“I didn’t touch it,” I whisper in shock.
The glow strengthens. The book—thinner than most, with cracked edges and a faded title I can’t read—rattles gently against the others, like it’s calling me.
My breath catches. My wolf, Mika, stirs within me.
Touch it.
I reach out, fingertips brushing the leather. The moment I do—
The room disappears.
Darkness swallows me whole.
No scent. No sound. Only pressure, like I’m underwater.
Then a flicker of candlelight appears in the distance, growing closer with every heartbeat. Shapes begin to form.
A room. Old stone walls. A circular mirror on one side. Books—hundreds—lining the shelves.
And at the center, a woman in a flowing white dress with raven-black hair, her back to me.
She turns.
Anastasia...
She looks like the painting I once restored in the museum, same like the last time I saw her in my dream. Only now, her eyes are alive—stormy blue, wise, and deeply sad.
“You came,” she says softly.
I don’t know if I’m breathing. “Where am I?”
“Inside the book.” Her voice is calm, echoing gently like a distant chime. “A piece of me… preserved for you.”
“Me?”
She steps closer. “My blood lives in you now. My gift. My curse.”
“I’m not a witch,” I whisper.
Her eyes soften. “Not yet.”
A rush of wind swirls around us, and suddenly images flood the air—flashes of her life. A younger Anastasia, barely twenty, running barefoot through the woods, robes torn and blood on her hands. Howling behind her. Rogues. She stumbles across a border carved with warding runes—Francesco’s territory.
That was their first meeting.
A memory flickers.
She lies unconscious, surrounded by warriors. Francesco, younger then, approaches her cautiously. Their eyes meet. And in that exact moment, she casts the spell.
The bond. The illusion of fate.
Anastasia stands beside me now in the vision, watching her younger self weave the magic. “It was wrong,” she whispers. “But I was desperate. They sent me for that purpose—to make him fall for me. They were going to kill me if I failed.”
More memories appear: Anastasia smiling sweetly at Francesco, touching his arm, whispering carefully chosen words. Magic humming behind every glance. He believed they were fated. He believed he loved her.
“I tried to make him fall in love with me,” she says bitterly. “And maybe he did. But not in the way he thought.”
Tears sting my eyes. “You created a false bond.”
“Yes. One built on survival. Not truth.” Her voice is raw. “But in time, I think I loved him. I just never knew how to stop lying.”
She walks to the mirror. “This is the truth you must face, Ellaine. Magic comes with a price. You must decide if you’re willing to pay it.”
“What price?” I ask, a knot forming in my chest.
Anastasia raises her hand. The mirror begins to swirl with silver fog—and then clears.
And what I see makes me fall to my knees.
Me. Covered in blood. Standing alone in the snow, screaming a name I can’t hear.
Francesco, maybe?
Or someone else...
“No,” I gasp. “That’s not real.”
“It’s a path,” she says. “One of many. Power calls to those who seek to twist it. If you open these books without understanding, you risk losing everything.”
Tears prick my eyes. “Then why give it to me?”
“Because,” Anastasia whispers, kneeling in front of me, “you have something I never did.”
“What?”
She smiles. “Hope.”
Light explodes.
The vision shatters.
And I’m back—gasping—in Francesco’s office.
He’s kneeling beside me in a flash. “Ellaine! What happened?” He hold me tight.
I look at the book in my hands. It’s no longer glowing. Just… still. Like nothing happened at all.
“I saw her,” I whisper.
He stills. “Anastasia?”
I nod, tears sliding silently down my cheeks. “She left something for me. A vision. A warning.”
Francesco wipes one tear gently. “What did she say?”
“That this is a gift... but also a curse.” I look into his eyes. “And that I have a choice.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, and then he stands and helps me to my feet.
“You won’t face this alone,” he says, voice low and firm. “Whatever’s in those books—whatever future you saw—we change it. Together.”
I throw my arms around him, burying my face in his chest, the things that I saw in my head is so real that bring tears fall more from my eyes.
But I believe him.
Because even though my fate now carries a forgotten witch’s magic and secrets darker than moonless nights—I have him.
And maybe that’s enough.
For now...