Marked By the Pureblood Alpha (Deanna and Luis) novel Chapter 193

**Chapter 193: Deanna’s Cold Goodbye**

**Deanna’s POV:**

After exchanging a fleeting farewell with Violet, I pressed down hard on the accelerator, feeling the car surge forward like a wild stallion. The engine roared in response, a fierce growl that matched the turmoil in my heart as I sped down the winding road toward Mooncrown Corporation.

My emotions were a chaotic jumble, floating somewhere high above, reminiscent of that anxious feeling one gets just before the results of a test are revealed—nervous, apprehensive, and yet unable to resist the urge to peek. I longed for clarity regarding my love, to understand the depths of what I felt.

Just as I approached the next turn that would lead me to Mooncrown, the in-car phone blared to life, cutting through my thoughts like a knife.

I glanced at the screen, my heart momentarily stalling. It was the landline from Mistbane Mansion.

A wave of hesitation washed over me, but I ultimately decided to answer.

“Ms. Deanna, you need to come quickly—Luna has tried to take her own life,” Stacey’s voice crackled through the speaker, laced with urgency and dread.

My brows knitted together in disbelief. Surely, I must have misheard her.

“Take her own life?” I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes! Alpha and Luna have been at each other’s throats lately. This morning, they had a massive fight. After that, Luna went completely silent and locked herself in her room. When we finally managed to check on her, we found her in the bathroom, her wrist bleeding. Thank Nyra we arrived when we did, or she wouldn’t be here with us now.”

The gravity of the situation settled heavily in my chest, a stone of dread. Kathryn had always been the epitome of privilege—pampered, proud, and vain. If she had truly attempted to end her life, it meant something profoundly terrible had transpired.

I turned my gaze toward the imposing structure of Mooncrown Corporation, its towering presence cutting through the clouds. After a moment of contemplation, I made a sharp turn, redirecting my course away from my original destination.

Thirty minutes later, I found myself within the territory of the Mistbane Pack.

I stepped out of my car and strode purposefully through the villa, my heart pounding as I made my way to Kathryn’s bedroom.

With a deep breath, I pushed open the door.

There lay Kathryn on the bed, her complexion ashen, her lips pale like freshly fallen snow.

In that moment, she appeared a decade older, the weight of despair etched into her features. The crimson mark on her wrist was stark against her skin, a haunting reminder of her desperation.

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