Abandoned Luna Now Untouchable (Cecilia) novel Chapter 234

Dessert

Cecilia’s pov

“It’s a berry trifle,” Belinda announced, her voice smooth as silk and practiced to perfection–like a flight attendant describing a crash landing with a smile.

Across the long, candlelit table, someone muttered, “Finally, something that doesn’t look like a punishment.”

“Praise the Moon Goddess,” another guest whispered, not quite low enough. “Maybe this one won’t try to kill us.”

The cóllective relief was almost comical. After a parade of dishes that Looked like failed science experiments, the appearance of real dessert was practically a religious experience.

It was well after nine, stomachs were growling, and with no way off the island until tomorrow afternoon–this might be the only safe meal we got.

Servants moved with choreographed precision, placing crystal bowls in front of each guest. Each trifle was a work of art–layers of sponge cake, whipped cream, summer berries, and glistening jam. The scent hit me like a memory: buttery vanilla and sun-ripened fruit.

I’d always had a thing for layered desserts. Around me, forks were already clinking with desperate enthusiasm.

I picked up my spoon. Paused. Then set it down again.

Why the hell would dessert be the only thing that wasn’t suspicious tonight?

“Eat,” Sebastian said beside me–low, calm, like a man who’d survived enough poisonings to tell the difference.

I hesitated. His tone was steady. Certain. Too certain.

I took a small bite,

“You can’t keep skipping meals,” he added. “Besides, I doubt the poison would be lethal.”

I stopped cold, spoon hovering midair. “…Excuse me?”

He met my glare with that infuriating half-smile. “Relax. I’m kidding.

It’s fine.”

My appetite? Gone.

Sure, logic said Belinda and her cult wouldn’t gain anything by killing us. But “not deadly” didn’t mean “not tampered with.”

We were sealed in on an istand. If they wanted to hurt us, they had endless options. Food. Water. Air. Sleep. No escape.

And suddenly, I got it.

This wasn’t a party. It was a test. A cage with gilded trim.

We weren’t guests–we were lab rats.

With that charming thought, I resumed eating.

Tang was already polishing off his second helping, completely ünbothered. Everyone else at the table–except our ever-fasting Alpha was diving into dessert like it was their last supper.

Even Belinda took a dainty bite, smiling like she’d just solved world peace.

She turned to Sebastian, her voice syrupy sweet. “Are you absolutely sure you won’t try a taste, Alpha Sebastian?” Sebastian gave her the full scan–face, neck, shoulders–but his expression didn’t budge. He looked like a man evaluating a wine label, not a woman.

“I’m afraid high-sugar foods are strictly off-limits,” he replied smoothly.

“They accelerate skin aging.”

Belinda laughed, low and knowing. “You do take remarkable care of yourself. Perhaps you’d like to join me in my suite later? We could discuss your.., wellness routine in private.”

Her hand slid toward his.

My stomach twisted–not from poison, but from something far more annoying.

Sebastian reached for his water glass, expertly dodging her touch. “I’d hate to show favoritism. Wouldn’t want the other guests feeling left out, Ms. Belinda.”

Belinda’s laugh was too perfect, too rehearsed. “Oh, don’t worry. When the Ascendancy assigns me to host an event, I make sure no one leaves unsatisfied.”

Her voice lingered on the word. Like a threat in lipstick.

Every head at the table lifted.

Reactions flickered-from amusement to discomfort to barely concealed panic.

The room fractured into a dozen private storms of interpretation.

Sebastian tilted his head, smile razor-sharp. “Now that sounds… intniguing.”

His gaze lingered on her for a beat too long.

Then he reached for his water glass and took a sip.

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