Shattered Bonds: A Second Chance Mate - Chapter 89: Chapter 89

Back to Ellaine Point of View:
Back at the estate, the tension was unbearable.
Every corridor pulsed with unease. The air was thick with whispers and silent glances. Healers moved with solemn expressions, guards stood like statues in every corner, and the staff barely spoke above a murmur. From the outside, it looked like the household was grieving.
And in a way… it was.
But the truth was carefully buried beneath layers of deception.
I sat curled on the velvet couch in our private chambers, a heavy wool blanket draped over my shoulders even though I wasn’t cold. My hair was damp from the cloth Audrey had pressed against my forehead earlier—for appearances. Everything was for appearances now.
Across the room, Francesco stood rigidly at the tall window. His back was to me, his shoulders drawn tight. His hands were clenched at his sides, so tightly his knuckles had gone white. I knew he was furious. I could feel the storm radiating from him.
I didn’t need to see his face to know what he was thinking.
The same thing I had been thinking since that night.
Katrina had tried to kill me.
It still didn’t feel real, even after all the evidence. The glass. The scent of wolfbane. The surveillance footage. The shift in her eyes when she handed me the drink.
But it was real.
She had done it. She had smiled and laughed with me, pretending to be my friend, all while hiding poison in her purse. And I, like a fool, had trusted her.
I remembered the exact moment it happened. The way her hand lingered too long. The way her gaze flicked toward me—not with affection, but calculation.
That was when Mika stirred.
My wolf, always alert, had growled inside me with sudden warning. Don’t drink it. I had obeyed. I had faked it. Lifted the glass to my lips and pretended to sip, then tucked it away behind a velvet curtain when no one was looking.
I had danced with them. Laughed with them. Pretended everything was fine.
But inside?
I was crumbling.
Katrina had been one of only three humans I allowed into my world. One of the few I had trusted—that I was just a university student or an artist.
When I’m with them I wasn’t the Luna of the Italian pack.
But she’d tried to kill me.
Not by accident. Not in a moment of panic.
With intention.
She had known exactly who I was.
And that made it worse.
That made it treason.
That night, when the party ended, the halls emptied and everyone has return from our run celebration, I couldn’t keep the truth to myself any longer. I walked into the healer, Lira room—glass still hidden in my bag—and told her to check it fast.
Francesco arrived minutes later after I summoned him, and his expression when he saw me there with Lira—arms crossed, cheeks tearstained, heart bruised—was one I would never forget.
He listened.
Silently. Carefully.
And when I had said all there was to say—how Mika had warned me, how I had faked the sip, how Katrina had looked me in the eye and still gone through with it—he didn’t speak.
He just pulled me into his arms and held me.
Held me like I might shatter.
Then Francesco turned to Lira, his expression unreadable.
“Can you analyze what’s inside that drink?” he asked, his voice low but firm.
Lira nodded immediately. “I’ll try. I may need a few hours, but if there’s anything magical or chemical in it beyond wolfbane, I’ll find it.”
I watched her leave with the glass carefully wrapped in cloth, a small pang of unease tugging at my stomach. My mind was still reeling, but I kept my posture steady. I couldn’t afford to appear shaken.
Moments later, I saw Francesco pause. His eyes glazed slightly—he was receiving a mind-link.
“Alfonso is summoning me,” he said with a lifted brow. Then he turned to me. “Let’s go.”
I nodded without hesitation.
We walked through the corridors side by side, silent but connected. I could feel his protectiveness humming through the bond, his emotions carefully held back so he wouldn't overwhelm me. My fingers tightened slightly around his as we approached the private strategy room tucked beneath the west wing of the estate—rarely used unless there was war on the horizon.
Beta Alfonso was already waiting inside. The thick, soundproof walls were lined with old maps, and an unused projection screen sat rolled up in the corner. His arms were crossed, but as soon as he looked up and saw me walking in behind Francesco, his entire body tensed.
“Luna?” he asked, clearly startled. “Are you… are you alright?”
The way he asked it made one thing painfully clear—he truly believed I had been poisoned.
“Why do you think I wouldn’t be?” I asked, keeping my voice calm.
Alfonso hesitated, then exhaled. “Forgive me, Luna. It’s just… we found evidence. I thought—Nolan thought—that the poison had already affected you.”
He quickly began recounting everything they had discovered. The scent of wolfbane. The broken glass. The small vial. Nolan’s suspicions. The CCTV footage. All of it. And how none of them could imagine the drink hadn't been consumed.
Francesco stood beside me in silence, still holding my hand. His silence was not indifference—it was calculation. I could almost hear his thoughts turning behind his eyes, pieces clicking into place.
When Alfonso finished, I turned toward my mate.
“Francesco?” I said gently. “What are you thinking?”
He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he brought a hand to his chin, rubbing it in deep thought. Finally, he said, “No one knows that we know... correct?”
Alfonso blinked, confused. “What do you mean, Alpha?”
Francesco turned to face him more fully. “I mean… they—whoever is behind this—they don’t know that I know. That Ellaine knows. Even when you summoned me here, you didn’t know that the both of us were already aware of the poison.”
Alfonso’s eyes widened as realization began to dawn.
“That’s true,” he said slowly. “We assumed the attempt succeeded. That you, Luna, were already affected.”
Francesco nodded. “Exactly. So let them think that.”
There was a long pause.
Alfonso blinked, stunned. “You mean… let the rumors continue?”
I spoke up, my voice steadier now. “Yes. Spread the information. Let it be known that I’ve fallen ill after the celebration. That I collapsed shortly afterward. That the healers are doing everything they can, but I’m not improving.”
Francesco’s voice joined mine, lower and more lethal. “Let them think they’ve succeeded. It will draw them out. They’ll become careless. Overconfident.”
It clicked in Alfonso’s expression. He straightened, his stance tightening with focus.
“I see…” he murmured. Then he bowed deeply. “Understood. I’ll inform Marlow and Nolan. They’ll act accordingly.”
I nodded. “Audrey and Monica need to be told as well. Audrey is my personal guard, and Monica is my assigned nurse. If they’re not seen tending to me or guarding my room, it will look suspicious.”
Francesco and Alfonso both nodded in agreement.
“You can’t be seen, amore,” Francesco said gently, brushing a hand through my hair. His voice softened only for me, protective and warm despite the danger we were facing.
“I know,” I said quietly. “If we want this deception to work, I need to disappear from the public eye. Completely.”
For a moment, none of us spoke.
The weight of what we were about to do settled around us like fog.
We were faking my illness. Faking my collapse. Faking my weakness—all to draw out the enemy.
It was risky. But it might be the only way to make them slip up.
“You’ll have to stay in the healer’s wing,” Francesco said. “Under lock and spell. We’ll limit who’s allowed near you. Audrey and Monica will rotate shifts at your side. Lira will continue masking your scent.”
“I’ll handle the outer perimeter,” Alfonso added. “Guards will act anxious. I’ll make sure whispers reach our neutral allies. I’ll even let some overhear conversations.”
I nodded.
Then I turned to Francesco, a quiet thought gnawing at my chest. “Do you think Katrina was working with Luca?”
Francesco’s jaw tightened. “Yes, no human knows about us unless someone told her.”
Alfonso agreed. “This was planned. Too precise. She had to have had guidance. I mean… She just human, how can she has that horrible things on her is a big question”
Francesco’s eyes darkened. “Then let them come. Let them think they can finish what they started.”
And I knew then—this wasn’t just about surviving.
It was about making a statement.
You don’t touch a Luna and walk away.
It was a dangerous plan.
But it was the only way.
So we let the lie spread. That the Luna—I—had collapsed shortly after the party. That I was gravely ill. That no one except my mate and the healers could see me.
Francesco played the grieving, desperate Alpha perfectly. Audrey whispered carefully crafted stories to known gossips. The guards, who knows, faked concern. Lira made sure no one could sense my presence by masking my scent with old herbs and layers of ancient concealment spells.
And within a day, the rumor grew wings.
The Luna is dying.
I stayed hidden deep beneath the estate. Only small people besides Francesco and me knew the truth: Beta Alfonso, Marlow, Nolan, Audrey, Monica, Healer Lira and some of trusted warrior.
Everyone else mourned.
I became a ghost in my own home.
All of it—a performance. All of it—bait.
Let the traitors think they had won.
Let them relax.
Let them crawl out of hiding.
And then?
Let them bleed.
Now, in the present, I looked at Francesco. He still hadn’t moved from the window. The light from outside cast his silhouette in sharp golds and shadows.
“I hate this,” I said softly.
He turned at once and came to me, kneeling in front of the couch. His eyes met mine—burning, but gentle.
“I know,” he murmured. “But you’re strong. Stronger than they think. And this… this gives us a chance.”
I swallowed hard, my throat thick.
“She smiled at me, Francesco,” I whispered. “She handed me that drink while laughing. Like we were still friends. How—how could she?”
He didn’t answer with words.
He took my hands in his—warm, steady, anchoring me in a sea of pain I hadn’t dared to speak aloud.
“She won’t smile again,” he said finally, his voice like thunder ready to break.
I didn’t flinch at the promise in his tone. I didn’t stop him or beg him to be merciful.
Because I knew what this was.
She hadn’t just betrayed me.
She had betrayed the pack. Betrayed the trust of our kind. Betrayed the laws that bound us.
She had attempted to assassinate the Luna.
There was no forgiveness for that.
“I just want you to be careful,” I whispered. “I don’t want them to hurt you, too.”
His jaw ticked, golden eyes darkening. “Let them try.”
And I knew—if Katrina and whoever sent her dared to show their faces again, Francesco wouldn’t hesitate.
And this time… neither would I.