The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel Chapter 394

**The Perfect 394**

Margaret coughed violently, the sound echoing ominously in the dimly lit room. A spray of crimson erupted from her lips, splattering across my face and transforming my vision into a haze of red. Her eyes widened in a mixture of shock and disbelief as they locked onto mine, a silent plea etched in her gaze.

And then, just like that, she went limp.

There was no anguished cry, no final word that would linger in the air like a haunting melody. She simply crumpled to the ground, lifeless, a puppet with its strings cut.

In that moment, I think I screamed—though the sound felt distant, as if it were coming from someone else. I staggered backwards, the knife still gripped tightly in my trembling hands, its blade slick with her blood. My father’s voice cut through the haze, a frantic shout as he surged forward, desperation etched on his face. Julie, her body slumped in the corner, lay as still as her mistress, both of them trapped in a silence that felt almost sacred. The warriors stood frozen, their expressions a mix of shock and horror. Helen, unable to bear the weight of the scene, fainted, collapsing like a wilted flower into her husband’s arms.

Before I could fully comprehend what was happening, Alexander’s arms encircled me, catching me just before I could fall. His grip was shaky, his strength wavering, yet he managed to keep us both upright, a fragile lifeline in a sea of chaos.

“What… What just happened?” I gasped, my voice barely more than a whisper as I looked up at him, searching his face for answers that felt just out of reach. Around us, the others rushed to Margaret and Julie, their frantic movements a blur. “I-I don’t understand—”

“She almost had you,” Alexander said, his voice steady despite the turmoil surrounding us. He cupped my face with his hands, his gaze intense as he searched my eyes for any hint that Margaret’s dark ritual had succeeded. “She wanted you to kill me, but you didn’t. You turned around and plunged the knife into her chest instead.”

A lump formed in my throat, heavy and unyielding. I tried to glance over at my stepmother, but Alexander held me firmly, his grip a protective cage. Perhaps it was for the best; deep down, I knew I never wanted to kill her. I had never wished harm upon anyone.

“The artifacts,” I suddenly gasped, my heart racing. I turned, scanning the room and spotting the scattered remnants of Margaret’s dark magic strewn across the floor. The grimoire lay open, the pages fluttering gently as if whispering secrets of the past. It was still open to the page I remembered her reading from before everything spiraled into darkness. The mirror lay shattered, its fragments glinting ominously in the flickering light. The knife, now stained with blood, seemed to pulse with a life of its own. But they were all here, and the fire crackled with a hungry intensity. “We need to act quickly.”

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