The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel Chapter 337

Ella’s Perspective

Waking up the next morning, I was plagued by more than just a brutal hangover. The relentless pounding in my head and the dry, cracked feeling of my tongue almost felt like a welcome distraction from the storm of thoughts swirling relentlessly in my mind.

Still dressed in the clothes from the night before, my face pressed into the pillow, memories came crashing back like an overwhelming tidal wave. I could almost feel my nails digging into Anya’s dress as the full moon’s pull became unbearable. The words I had blurted out—I loved him—echoed painfully in my mind. Then there was the crushing news about Liam’s worsening condition. The bar with its tempting discounted drinks, which I had indulged in far too much, only added to the haze.

And, of course, the most haunting thought of all…

Alexander.

I could still taste the lingering sweetness and bitterness of his lips, a sensation far more intoxicating than any vodka cranberry I’d downed. How desperately I wished I could hold onto that moment forever—kiss him endlessly, let him pull me close like he had in those fleeting, precious seconds.

But beneath that passionate memory lay the bitter aftertaste of everything that followed.

Regret.

I had fled the club before I could even think straight, despite the desperate howling of my wolf urging me to go back—to return to my mate and confess everything. The mate bond had been pulsing with energy, stronger than it had been since my death. Even now, I could feel it buzzing through my veins like the remnants of an electric shock. It would be days before the full moon’s influence faded enough to make the bond bearable again.

I wanted to listen to my wolf—I wanted to kiss Alexander again, to lay everything bare and clear the air between us. I wanted him more than anything else in the world.

I had been so close to doing just that when I pulled away and caught his green eyes fixed on me.

So close.

But then the memory of Liam’s illness came crashing down—the nurse’s words about how sick he was, too ill even for visitors. I knew I couldn’t risk it. I was no closer to finding a cure for this curse than I had been when I first discovered it. Maybe Julie’s talk of artifacts was just a cruel lie, a false hope to trick me into thinking the inevitable wasn’t truly inevitable.

No. If I told Alexander the truth, he could end up like Liam. Or worse, the curse might claim him faster, before I had a chance to find a solution.

I couldn’t bear that thought. I couldn’t imagine my son growing up an orphan, with one parent dead and the other trapped in silence, unable to tell him she was right there. And I couldn’t stand the idea of anything bad happening to Alexander—after all I’d already witnessed with Liam, I couldn’t face more pain.

With a groan, I buried my face in my pillow and nearly screamed into it. I pressed down hard until I could barely breathe, until spots danced behind my closed eyelids from the pressure.

I wanted to smother myself, to end it all once and for all. Surely the curse wouldn’t bring me back again, would it?

But no. I pushed the pillow aside and sat up, running my fingers through my tangled hair. A second death was not an option—I had to stay alive to watch over Lucien.

“Somehow,” Lilith continued, “I feel like this might be connected to the curse.”

“How can you be so sure?” I asked, skepticism and hope mingling in my voice.

She shrugged but then bit her lip—a gesture I recognized all too well from my own reflection. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just intuition. Either way, I want to investigate. There’s a chance she’ll visit that place tonight, with the full moon and all. We could follow her, or I can go alone if you’d rather not come.”

The thought of trailing Margaret on a hunch felt like just one more weight added to the mountain of problems I was already carrying. But I couldn’t say no to Lilith. She was my mother, and if she believed this might be related to the curse, I had to give it a chance. And I wouldn’t let her face it alone.

I was about to agree when the greenhouse door suddenly slammed open with such force that I heard glass crack. I spun around, clutching Lucien tighter against my chest, and saw Anya standing there. Her chest heaved, and her cheeks were flushed a deep red.

“Anya—”

“It’s not Liam you’re in love with, is it?” she burst out, striding toward me and holding up her phone. On the screen was a photo from last night—a picture of Alexander and me kissing in the club.

My stomach twisted painfully as Anya’s tear-filled eyes locked with mine, shining with hurt and betrayal.

“You’re in love with Alexander, aren’t you?” she whispered, voice trembling.