Chapter 78
Back to Ella’s Point of View
The faint scent of lavender clung to the sheets. Soft morning light streamed through sheer curtains, painting golden lines across Somewhere close, Themd birdsong Peaceful, beautiful even–yet completely out of sync with the storm inside me,
My body ached like I’d been ripped apart and stitched back together again. Muscles sore, mouth dry, skin flushed. But I was alive
i blinked slowly, the ceiling above me unfamiliar
Wheel
Memory came rushing back, thick and untelem
The potion. The shaking. Francesco’s arms. The panic.
I gasped and tried to sit up.
“Easy, amore” a familiar voice said gently. A firm but tender hand pressed to my shoulder. “Don’t move too fast. You’re safe
Francesco?
His presence anchored me. I turned my head slowly and found him beside the bed, seated, his dark hair a disheveled mess, a fresh shadow of stubble along his jaw. His eyes… gods, the pain in them.
“You’re awake,” he said, relief washing through his voice
“You should be angry, Imurmured, voice raw.
He exhaled. “Tam. Terrified Furious. But right now, I’m just grateful you’re alive.””
Tears pricked my eyes.
I hadn’t meant to frighten him. I hadn’t meant to frighten anyone. I only wanted answers. A glimpse of Luca’s power. A sliver of understanding
“I didn’t know it would be like that,” I whispered.
Francesco reached for my hand. “You should’ve told me, amore, I could’ve helped”
I looked down at our joined hands. His fingers wrapped around mine like iron and silk.
“I was afraid you’d stop me.” I told him.
“I would’ve.”
We said nothing for a moment.
Then, softly, I asked, “How long have I been asleep?”
“A day and a half. Lira and Monica refused to leave until your body stabilized.”
My stomach twisted. I had made them all worry, Audrey. Monica. Francesco. Even Lira, who’d only spoken to once before
“I’m sorry,” whispered.
He leaned forward, pressing my knuckle to his lips. “Don’t apologize for surviving. But next time, don’t go to war alone.”
Chapter 78
That almost broke me,
Because i had gone to war in silence. With secrets no one else could carry
When I could finally sit up without the mom spinning, Monica checked on me the cup of warm broth and a s
“I should scold you,” she said. “Thut honestly, I’m just glad you’re still breathing
Francesco stayed quiet
e the examined me, his arm around the back of my waist to support me
“Lira said your body tried to reject the magic,” Monica murmured. “You were lucky”
I nodded, but said nothing.
I didn’t feel lucky.
Later, when we were alone again, Francesco sat beside me on the bed. He didn’t speak, and I didn’t push him to. The silence was soft. Henry, but not suffocating
I needed to tell him the rest. The real reason I’d done it,
“Remember Anastasia’s books? Her journal in the library. The one that I told you about.” I start
He looked at me sharply. “The one we restored? I thought it just her diary”
I nodded. “It wasn’t just memories. She wrote about her grief… and her research. Magic. Enchantments. Potions. Her bloodine wasn’t just royal–it was magical. She was trying to erase herself from the pack bond before she died. She didn’t want to be felt, Didn’t want to be found.”
His throat worked. “I had no idea.”
Francesco’s jaw tightened. His eyes, once soft with concern, turned stormy–fierce.
“She was drowning,” I whispered, voice barely audible as I clutched the frayed pages of the old joumal tighter in my lap. “And she documented everything. Every failed attempt, Every spell. Every dream. Even Luca. There were entries about a boy she trusted who turned on her. Who took her
notes.”
“Luca…” he said, his voice a low growl
I nodded, my heart heavy. “I think he perfected what she started. That’s how he moves unnoticed. That’s why we can’t sense him. Anastasia’s cloaking spell he built on it. He weaponized her desperation.”
Francesco stood abruptly, his chair scraping back against the marble floor with a sharp screech. He began pacing, slow at first, then faster–like a predator too caged in to contain the rage that coiled inside him. His Ests clenched at his sides, Muscles along this back tensed beneath his shirt.
“I kill him,” he muttered. “For what he did to her. For what he’s trying to do to you. For everything
I watched him, his fury consuming the room, and yet…he wasn’t distant. He wasn’t unreachable. He was breaking in front of me for me.
I rose slowly and stepped toward him. “I’m not her,” said gently. “And you’re not the same man you were when she died.”
He stopped pacing His chest rose and fell with sharp, uneven breaths. Then his eyes found mine–raw, dark, and glistening with emuuon.
“I know,” he said. And softer still, with a tremble in his voice that cracked my heart open, “But the fear I felt when I found you… it was worse than anything I’ve ever known.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
So instead, I reached for his hand–large, warm, trembling slightly–and he took mine as though he needed to feel my pulse beneath his skin to believe was still here.
Chapter 78
Then he pulled me into his arms, wrapping me in an embrace that wasn’t just comfort–it was daim, it was grit, i He held me tightly, as if letting go even slightly might undo everything we just sunmved.
His scent wrapped around me, cedarwood and wind, safety and desen.
I pressed my cheek against his chest, listening to the thunder of his heartbeat. He didn’t speak. He just cradled the back of through my hair as if memorizing the feel of it
“I thought I lost you,” he whispered into my hair. “And all I could think about was the weight of that ulence the way it would tear
“I came back,” I said, my voice thick. “I chose to come back. For you. Always”
He pulled back just enough to look down at me, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes searched min desperate,
1 stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his
It was soft at first uncertain and breathless. But then he deepened it. Francesco kissed me like he was pouring all his sorrow, his rage, moment. His hand cupped the side of my face as the other slid around my waist, anchoring me to him. I melted into his touch, my fingers e shirt, needing him close.
He kissed me again longer, slower, tasting every corner of my mouth like he was reclaiming something he thought he’d lost. There was nothing nothing frantic. Only devation. Only the quiet, aching relief of knowing the one you love is still here.
His lips traveled down, brushing over the corner of my mouth, my jaw, my throat. Each kiss a whisper of all the words he didn’t know how to say
He lifted me gently, carried me to the edge of the bed as if I were something precious. And let him, because in that moment, I wanted nothing more to be touched by someone who had seen me broken and still stayed
He laid the down with reverence, crawling over me but never pressing too close, his eyes asking permission even as his hands worshipped every inch they explored.
“I love you, My God, Elaine,” he whispered, his voice thick
I swallowed hard, tears stinging. “Then show me,” I said. “Show me how deep is your love. Show me you’re real to me. That I am yours like you are mine.
And he did.
Francesco kissed me again, deeply, like we had all the time in the world. His hands moved slowly, gently, caressing my arms, my sides, mapping the shape of me like he was drawing me from memory
I felt the scrape of his stubble along my collarbone as his mouth moved lower, his breath warm against my skin. My hands tangled in his dark hair, pulling him closer, feeling the strength of him wrapped around the vulnerability of me. And yet, I’d never felt safer. Never more wanted.
Every touch, every y kiss, every soft word he breathed against my skin stitched something inside me back together.
We didn’t rush, he know I am still weak so touching me with tender. There was no urgency–only reverence, the quiet language of two souls finding their way through the darkness together.
The following day, Audrey burst into the chamber with a look of disbelief.
“You’re on every Alpha’s and council radar now Luna” she said without preamble. “There are rumors. That the Alpha’s mate has ancient magic and a white moon wolf. That she’s dangerous. That she nearly died using it.”
I stared at her. “What?”
Francesco prowled. “Who leaked it?”
Chapter 78
She shrugs her shoulder “No idea, Alpha. But someone from the inner estate must have spoken to a shiting warrior, it’s spreading”
My stomach turned. “I didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Well, they know. And they’re scared of you, Luna.” She sighed.
I met her eyes. “Good.”
She blinked in confusion.
Econtinued, “Let them be scared. Let
Let them w
wonder what tam if it keeps us safer… then let them believe I’m something to fear.”
Francesco said nothing, but I felt his pride through the bond. It was quiet, but steady. Fierce.
Later, when I returned to my room–our room–alone for the first time in days, I pulled Anastasia’s journal from where I had hidden it. I ran my fingers ever the delicate script, the ink smudged in places by tears and age
I whispered softly to the ghost of the woman who came before me, “understand now. The silence. The weight. The desperation. But I won’t let it
consume me”
Then I closed the journal and placed it back in its place, not to hide it but to protect it.
Like I would protect all of us
Even if it meant walking the line between magic and madness.
Eveni
if it meant embracing the truth about what I really was becoming
This time, I wouldn’t break,
I would rise.
And they would all know it.
