The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel Chapter 342

Alexander’s Perspective

The entirety of the day had slipped away while I dwelled on the events of the previous night—events I could only describe as unfortunate, to put it mildly. My mind replayed the scene incessantly, like a worn-out film stuck on an endless loop of a late-night cable channel. The same images, the same feelings, circling relentlessly, refusing to fade.

Yet, despite the turmoil and regret swirling within me, there was an undeniable part of me that didn’t completely despise what had happened. Beneath the surface, it wasn’t just my wolf who found some strange satisfaction in having kissed my second chance mate. There was something deeper stirring inside me.

My heart felt inexplicably fuller, as if a missing fragment of my soul’s intricate puzzle had finally slid into place. That kiss—shared with the woman who looked, moved, smelled, and tasted so much like Ella—felt like a bridge, a fleeting resurrection of the woman I had lost. It was as though, in that moment, I had somehow pulled Ella back from the abyss.

Of course, I knew how absurd that thought was. Ella was truly gone—dead and buried. No act, no matter how intimate or desperate, could bring her back. If anything, the reckless dance and the kiss I had shared with Stella, the Omega nanny, felt like a betrayal, a desecration of Ella’s memory and the sacredness of her grave.

Adding to the complexity was the discovery of one of Stella’s earrings at Ella’s gravesite. That, combined with Stella’s odd behavior—arriving at Ella’s funeral in a flurry, seemingly familiar with Lilith and Liam as if they were old acquaintances, and her uncanny resemblance to Ella—made my suspicion grow stronger. The hours she spent poring over Ella’s family history on that stormy day only deepened my doubts and curiosity. It was clear I needed to confront her, to get answers once and for all.

After locking myself away in my office for hours, wrestling with my thoughts, a conclusion had taken shape: Stella must be connected to Ella in some way. Perhaps she was Lilith’s secret daughter, or some hidden cousin. Maybe she had come here after Ella’s death to care for Ella’s son as if he were her own, or even to take Ella’s place.

I couldn’t yet tell whether her intentions were noble or sinister, but I knew one thing for certain—I had to find out.

Still, on that particular day, I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze. Not so soon after that kiss. The thought of looking into her eyes made my resolve waver, knowing full well that if I did, I might be tempted to repeat what I had done and shatter the vow I had made at Ella’s grave just hours earlier.

She hesitated, opening her mouth only to close it again, as if searching for the right words. This silent struggle repeated a few times before she finally whispered, “You kissed her.”

My stomach twisted painfully. I didn’t need to ask how she had found out. I’d kissed the nanny in public—when I was supposed to be on the brink of marrying Anya. Not only had I danced with her, but I had pressed my lips to the very woman whose name had slipped from my mouth during a moment of passion at the Luna Trial ceremony.

Anya was well aware that our marriage was to be one of convenience, a contract rather than a union of love. She had assured me she was fine with that arrangement, so long as the contract included taking care of her family—a condition I had agreed to without hesitation. But none of that made the whole situation any less complicated, or less painful.

I could see the hurt flickering in her eyes, and despite everything, I felt a pang of guilt. The night’s reckless actions had not only tangled my own emotions but had also cast a shadow over the fragile agreement between us.