Shattered Bonds A Second Chance Mate (by Yui) novel Chapter 253

Still His 253 Summary

News of King Lycaon’s return spread rapidly across the lands, stirring varied reactions among different factions. In the southern territories, Alpha Rowan of the Verdant Vale received the news with cautious hope, believing that Lycaon’s rise might bring peace, especially since Francesco Lycaon was said to be different from his ancestors. His Luna, Mira, shared in this hope, praying for healing and stability. Bells tolled softly in their lands, not in mourning but in prayer.

However, in the northern strongholds, the name Lycaon evoked fear and anger. Alpha Garron of the Iron Fang pack viewed Lycaon’s return as a threat, recalling the destruction caused by his line in the past. Despite reports that Lycaon fought alongside the White Wolf and was freed from the curse, Garron remained distrustful, warning his pack that they would not bow again and that the breaking of the curse might unleash a greater danger.

Meanwhile, in the vampire stronghold of Nightthorn Castle, the news brought sorrow and tension. Lucien Vale Nightthorn and Sofia learned that Sofia’s father, Dorian, had died in battle, reportedly slain by King Lycaon himself. The revelation unsettled them, especially as Lord Drake Nightborn, Lucien’s father, revealed a deep, personal grudge against Lycaon’s bloodline. Drake recounted a tragic past involving a woman he loved who was destroyed by Lycaon’s curse, fueling his vow to judge the new king. Despite Lucien’s concerns, Drake prepared to confront Lycaon at dawn, with Sofia and Lucien deciding to follow him, determined to uncover the truth about this new ruler.

Back at Lycaon Fortress, Francesco stood overlooking his recovering kingdom, aware of the mixed loyalties and the lingering shadows of the past. Ellaine, his Luna, encouraged him to lead despite the challenges ahead. Francesco sensed that while the curse was broken, their trials were far from over. He felt an ominous presence watching them—something ancient and cold, hinting at a looming threat beyond wolves, witches, and humans. As a black carriage moved silently through the night, carrying Lord Drake and his companions toward Lycaon lands, the fragile peace was shadowed by the stirrings of a new war.

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Chapter 253

The news spread faster than banners could be raised.

the kind that bent grass and set fo

whispering. “The King Alpha

It began as murmurs in the wind has returned. Lycaon lives. The curse has been broken.

From the mountain packs to the sea covens, from the nomadic tribes in the eastern dunes to the stone keeps of the northern forests, every being who still remembered the old stories turned their heads.

Some smiled. Some prayed.

Others began sharpening their claws.

In the southern territories, Alpha Rowan of the Verdant Vale lifted his face to the moonlight when the messenger arrived. The man bore the scent of Marlow’s banners and the seal of the Lycaon crest.

When Rowan broke the wax and read, his weathered lips trembled.

“By the Moon…” he whispered. “So the King truly rose again.”

His Luna, Mira, placed her hand over his. “Then the world is safe, isn’t it?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “If the Lycaon stands for the light, yes. Francesco was not like his ancestors. I met him once, when he was a pup at his father’s court. His eyes were kind. Troubled, but kind.”

Mira smiled faintly. “Then may the gods bless him. May his Luna heal, and may peace return.”

They bowed their heads.

And in the Verdant Vale, the bells tolled softly

not in mourning, but in prayer.

But in other corners of the realm, the same wind carried different meanings.

To the northern strongholds – cold places where the Lycaon name had once meant fire, ruin, and tyranny —

the word return was not comfort.

It was a threat.

“Lycaon?” spat Alpha Garron of the Iron Fang pack, his scarred jaw tightening as he slammed his goblet onto the map table. “The same line that burned our borders centuries ago? The same beasts that thought the moon itself was theirs to command?”

His beta, a wiry she–wolf named Thea, spoke carefully. “Reports say he fought alongside the White Wolf — the chosen of the Moon Goddess. They say she saved him from the curse.”

Garron laughed coldly. “Saved him? Or unleashed him?”

The hall murmured with tension.

Chapter 253

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“Do you forget what the old texts said?” Garron went on, his eyes hard as forged iron. “When a Lycaon King

takes a Luna blessed by Selene, the balance shifts. Love, they said. P

—

the same with blood and empire.”

1. 1. e. they said. Yet every time it ended

He slammed his hand onto the table. “We will not bow again.”

Thea’s voice dropped. “But if he truly broke the curse-”

“Then he broke a chain that was meant to hold him,” Garron snapped. “And the gods mock us once more.”

The room fell silent except for the hiss of the torches.

Far beyond the stone walls, wolves howled – a sound caught between fear and fury.

****

In the Shadowed Castle of the Vampires far from the sunlight and howls, the news reached a darker corner of the world.

The Castle of Nightthorn lay cloaked in eternal dusk – black marble, long spires, and a silence that always seemed one breath away from thunder. It was here that the name Lycaon had never been forgotten. Not forgiven.

Lucien Vale Nightthorn was in the library when the courier arrived. He stood beside the wide glass window, moonlight spilling across his dark hair as he read the sealed parchment. His sharp crimson eyes widened, then narrowed.

Sofia

—

tearing.

the young woman beside him, her face still pale from crying lifted her head at the sound of paper

“What is it?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “Another report?”

—

Lucien hesitated. His voice was calm, but too calm. “Yes. It’s official. The war in the wolflands is over.” He looked up, meeting her gaze. “Your father… Dorian… he fell. Slain in battle.”

The parchment fell from his hand.

Sofia’s knees weakened, but Lucien caught her before she collapsed. Her tears came soundlessly at first – just trembling breaths, shaking shoulders, and the kind of grief that tore itself out from the soul.

She buried her face against his chest. “He… he wasn’t a good man,” she whispered. “But he was still my father.”

Lucien’s hand stroked her hair gently. “I know.”

They stood like that for a long while, silent but for the distant drip of rain against glass.

Then Sofia’s trembling turned to confusion. “Who… who killed him?”

Lucien hesitated. “The reports say… King Lycaon himself.”

Sofia pulled back, her lips parting in disbelief. “King Lycaon?”

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Chapter 251

Before Lucien could answer, another voice echoed through the bal

“King Lycaon, you say?”

Lucien turned sharply. His father, Lord Drake Nightborn, stood at the that gleamed like oil in the candlelight. His eyes burned with an of

Sofia stepped back instinctively. “Lord Drake”

and and fled with a

Drake’s gaze snapped toward Lucien, “You speak that name too lightly, my vm?

Lucien frowned. “Father, you know him?”

– Ground in black se male even the ther

Drake’s jaw tightened. He didn’t answer at once. His gaze turned toward the fire, and for a hearted, he looked almost haunted,

Then his expression darkened. “Know him?” he spat. “No one alive knows the Lycaon line at I do?

He stepped forward, his voice growing lower, sharper – each word like glass.

“Lycaon owes me my beloved heart.”

Lucien and Sofia both froze.

The words hung in the air- cold, cruel, final.

“Father…” Lucien began carefully. “What are you saying?”

Drake turned away from them, pacing slowly across the room. The shadows seemed to stretch where he walked, drawn to his rage like smoke to fire.

“Centuries ago,” he said, “before your birth, before your grandsire turned this castle into a fortress of marble and sin, I knew a woman – a healer. A light in the dark. She was human, yet her spirit shone like the goddess herself.” His voice trembled for the briefest second, then hardened again. “And Lycaon took her from me just after I turned her.”

Sofia gasped softly. “Your… beloved?”

Drake’s eyes narrowed, crimson with remembered pain. “She was taken by his bloodline – by his curse. The same beast who was said to challenge the moon Goddess for dominion of the night. I watched her burn with the madness of his mark. I watched her soul be devoured by the power he could not control.”

He turned sharply, his cloak slicing the air. “And now they say the curse is broken? That the Lycaon King lives, blessed by a Luna white as snow? No. This is no miracle – it is mockery.”

Lucien stepped forward. “Father, the world has changed-”

Drake’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “The world does not change, boy. It only forgets.” His fangs flashed, glinting in the firelight. “And I do not forget.”

He turned toward the window, where the moon hung full and pale over the horizon

–

the same moon that

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Chapter 253

once cursed a king and condemned a race.

His whisper was a vow.

:-

“Lycaon,” he said, tasting the name like poison. “You have broken the ch are worthy of the freedom you’ve stolen.”

Sofia wiped her tears, watching him with wide, uncertain eyes. “You…

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the gods forged. I will see if you

an to go to him?”

Drake didn’t answer. He simply reached for his black gloves, pulling them on slowly, one by one. “Prepare my carriage,” he ordered. “We leave by dawn.”

Lucien stepped in front of him, defiance flickering in his gaze. “If you intend harm-”

Drake’s eyes flared with crimson light. “Do not mistake vengeance for chaos, my son. I will not attack him blindly. I will judge him.” His voice lowered, almost soft. “And if he truly is the Lycaon who has found love and light… then perhaps he will survive my judgment.”

He brushed past them both, his cloak whispering against the floor like the wings of a raven. The great doors of the Nightthorn hall opened, letting the cold wind sweep in.

For a long moment, Lucien and Sofia stood frozen.

Then Lucien exhaled sharply, his hands curling into fists. “If he goes to the wolves, there will be blood.”

Sofia looked up at him, tear–streaked but resolute. “Then we follow him.”

Lucien’s gaze softened, troubled. “Sofia—”

“He killed my father,” she said, voice trembling but strong. “And I must see what kind of man he truly is, yes he helped us but… The world deserves to know if this new King Lycaon is a savior… or another monster.”

Lucien hesitated only a moment longer before nodding. “Then we go together.”

27244

Elsewhere – The Whispering Woods

Even nature itself seemed to hum with the tale.

—

The trees whispered when wolves passed under them; the rivers carried echoes of his name. In the dens of foxes, in the caverns of dragons long asleep, even in the shrines where witches prayed to the old gods the story of Francesco Lycaon and the White Wolf spread.

Some hidden witches smiled. “At last,” said one, her fingers tracing the rim of a silver chalice, “the bond has

been renewed.”

But another scoffed. “Renewed, yes. Until it consumes the world again.”

A crow, black as midnight, flew from the window and vanished into the distance – its destination unknown.

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230

Back in the Lycaon Fortress in France.

Francesco stood upon the highest balcony of his castle, the wind tuggi kingdom moved like a living thing rebuilding, healing, learning

–

fark cloak. Below, his

He could feel it -the pulse of the world, the faint tremor of the bond the ued him to Ellaine, and beneath it all, something darker. Old energy shifting.

He turned slightly when Marlow approached. “News, my King.”

Francesco’s voice was calm. “Good or bad?”

Marlow’s smile was thin. “Depends who you ask. Some packs in the south have sworn allegiance. They call you the True Alpha. Others in the north…” He hesitated. “They call you the Shadow of Greed reborn.”

Francesco said nothing for a long moment.

The wind caught his hair, and his eyes darkened with something between weariness and wisdom.

“I expected as much,” he said quietly. “The past stains deeper than blood. It will take time.”

Marlow nodded. “And patience.”

—

A faint voice drifted behind them Ellaine, wrapped in a white cloak, stepping into the light of dawn. Her shoulder was still bound, but her eyes gleamed like moonfire. “You don’t need to convince everyone, Francesco,” she said softly. “You just need to lead.”

He turned, a small smile easing the lines of his face. “You should rest.”

“I have,” she said, stepping closer until she stood beside him. “And now I’m awake – what comes next.”

for you, for them, for

He reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. Together they looked out over their land- scarred, but alive.

“The curse is gone,” Ellaine said, her voice quiet but strong. “But something tells me our trials aren’t.”

Francesco nodded slowly. “No. Severine warned me – power without balance can still destroy. Even mine.” He paused, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. “And there’s something else. I can feel eyes upon us.”

Ellaine frowned. “Enemies?”

“Maybe,” he murmured. “Or something older. Watching. Waiting.”

The wind shifted again, carrying a scent unfamiliar not wolf, not witch, not human.

Something colder. Ancient.

–

Vampire…

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Francesco golden eyes narrowed.

“Whatever it is,” he said quietly, “it’s coming.”

Far away, beyond the borders of the Lycaon lands, a black carriage

silent, drawn by horses without heartbeat.

the night its winets

Inside, Lord Drake Nightthorn sat in silence, his gloved hand resting on the hilt of a silvered blade older than Kingdoms.

His son and Sofia rode behind, their eyes fixed on the horizon.

And the moon, pale and watching, bathed the world in a ghostly light.

The age of peace had begun — and with it, the stirring of a new war.

Conclusion

The chapter closes on a poignant note of fragile hope intertwined with deep-seated tension. Francesco Lycaon’s return, heralded by some as a beacon of light and others as a looming threat, captures the complexity of legacy and redemption. The world watches with bated breath, divided between faith in the new King’s promise and fear of the shadows his lineage casts. Amidst this, the quiet strength of love and the burden of history weigh heavily on each character, reminding us that healing is never simple, and peace is often the calm before the storm.

Yet, beneath the surface of tentative alliances and whispered prayers, the chapter reveals an undercurrent of ancient power and unresolved vengeance. The presence of old wounds, both personal and political, suggests that the path forward will demand courage, wisdom, and resilience. As Francesco and Ellaine stand united against the uncertain horizon, the story gently unfolds the timeless struggle between light and darkness, hope and doubt, setting the stage for the trials that lie ahead.

What to Expect in Next Chapter?

The next chapter promises to plunge deeper into the uneasy calm that follows the breaking of the ancient curse. As Francesco Lycaon and Ellaine stand united, their bond symbolizing hope and renewal, shadows from the past refuse to fade quietly. The tensions simmering in the northern strongholds and the dark halls of Nightthorn hint at fractures that could shatter this fragile peace. The arrival of Lord Drake Nightthorn and his ominous intentions suggest that old wounds and bitter vendettas are far from healed, and that the true test of Francesco’s leadership is only just beginning.

Emotions will run high as alliances are questioned and loyalties tested. Sofia’s grief and resolve, Lucien’s defiance, and Drake’s haunting vendetta weave a complex web of personal and political conflict. Meanwhile, the mysterious presence watching from the shadows—neither wolf, witch, nor human—adds an eerie tension, signaling that forces beyond the known packs are stirring. Readers can expect a chapter rich with intrigue, where the line between friend and foe blurs, and the price of peace becomes painfully clear. The battle for the soul of the realm is far from over, and every choice will carry weighty consequences.