The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel Chapter 363

**TITLE: The Perfect 363**

**Ella’s POV**

As the days unfolded, our secret, almost clandestine dance morphed into a habitual rhythm, a series of hidden rendezvous and forbidden encounters that felt as thrilling as they were terrifying. I found myself surprisingly drawn to this routine, more than I had ever expected. Alexander, with that mischievous glint in his eyes, seemed to thrive on our stolen moments—those fleeting bursts of joy that offered a flicker of light amidst the heavy shadows of our grim realities.

Every time Alexander and I found ourselves alone, it was as if an unspoken urge compelled us to explore one another, our hands and lips tracing the contours of our bodies as if we were trying to imprint every inch of each other into our memories. We stole kisses in closets, pressed our bodies against cool walls, and even found ourselves bent over the bathroom sink, the soft hum of the shower fan creating a soundtrack for our secretive escapades. In the midst of Alpha King meetings, we seized every opportunity to connect, to share the passion that had been suppressed for what felt like an eternity.

In those moments, everything else faded into obscurity. Despite the persistent dread of the curse, the uncertainty that loomed over us like a storm cloud, those instances felt precious and rare. They became the only times when fear receded, allowing a flicker of hope to ignite within me.

When Alexander’s lips brushed against my skin, and his tongue entwined with mine, the outside world ceased to exist. It was just us, suspended in a bubble of intimacy, a world crafted solely for our hearts.

As he held me close every night, enveloping me in his embrace so tightly that I could scarcely breathe beneath the weight of his arms, all I could focus on was the steady rhythm of his heart beating against mine, a reassuring reminder that we were alive, together.

It was a cruel twist of fate, really, to find myself on the other side of a death sentence. The irony of our roles being reversed was not lost on me. It felt like the universe was playing a dark joke at our expense.

Just a year ago, I had been the one teetering on the brink of death, consumed by thoughts of the experiences I would never have, the bucket-list dreams I had yet to fulfill, the love I longed for, and the sensations I craved before the inevitable darkness closed in.

And now, it was Alexander who faced the specter of death.

Or so I feared.

Each morning as I awoke and each night as I drifted into sleep, I clung to the hope that we could break this curse before it claimed him, just as it was threatening Liam.

Yet, with each passing day, my optimism waned, flickering like a candle struggling against the wind.

If Margaret possessed the artifacts, she was proving to be a master of evasion. Hunter had traced her to distant islands, where she, my father, and Brian had supposedly spent a night in a hotel.

But by the time Hunter arrived, they had vanished. The hotel staff reported that they checked out at the crack of dawn, having spent only a few fleeting hours in their room. The security footage showed them slipping into a taxi, heading east, leaving us with nothing but frustration and anxiety.

Hunter eventually picked up their trail leading to a train that took them to a city on the eastern coast of the island.

But after that, the trail went cold. Alexander was growing increasingly impatient, waiting for news from Hunter, but two days had slipped by without a word.

For all we knew, Margaret could have boarded a plane and been halfway across the globe by now.

We desperately wished that wasn’t the case. Whatever plans she had for those artifacts could not be beneficial, and we needed them to break the curse. There was simply no other option.

Each day felt like a countdown to the inevitable—Alexander and Liam’s impending demise loomed over us like a dark cloud.

Fortunately, Liam’s condition remained stable. The doctor assured us that his wolf was keeping his body in a state of stasis, preventing any further decline. It was a small comfort, but at least he wasn’t getting worse.

Perhaps his wolf was buying us precious time to locate the artifacts.

But could we say the same for Alexander?

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify