The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel Chapter 359

**TITLE: The Perfect 359**
**Chapter 359**

**Ella’s POV**

As the night deepened, I found myself pacing restlessly in my room, the familiar rhythm of my footsteps echoing against the walls. The sounds of the house had faded into silence long ago, the others succumbing to sleep while I remained wide awake, my thoughts a whirlwind of anticipation. It was well past midnight—a time when the world outside was draped in darkness, but my mind was ablaze with the thrill of what lay ahead.

After ensuring that the house was enveloped in slumber, I felt a rush of adrenaline course through me. This was my moment. I slipped out of my room, every sound amplified in the stillness, and began my quiet journey down the corridor.

The darkness wrapped around me like a comforting cloak, each step bringing me closer to Alexander’s room. I reveled in the solitude, thankful for the absence of anyone who might interrupt my clandestine mission.

When I finally reached his door, I paused, my heart racing. I raised my hand to knock, but the gesture felt almost unnecessary. Did I really need to announce my presence? The bond between us was so strong, it was as if he could sense me even through the wood.

Just then, a gentle vibration resonated through that connection, a silent acknowledgment of my approach. Alexander’s scent wafted toward me, rich and intoxicating, urging me forward. Without a second thought, I turned the handle and stepped inside.

The moment I crossed the threshold, Alexander was there, his lips crashing onto mine with an urgency that took my breath away. I melted against him, responding with equal fervor, our kiss igniting a fire within me. He lifted me effortlessly into his arms, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around him as he carried me to the bed. We tumbled into the soft blankets, a beautiful chaos of limbs and passion. I cupped his face in my hands, my fingers tracing the familiar contours of his stubbled jaw.

In that moment, I felt an overwhelming desire to memorize every detail of him—the way his eyes sparkled with mischief, the warmth of his skin against mine. I wanted to remember this, all of it.

When we finally broke apart to catch our breath, our lips swollen and flushed from the intensity of our kiss, Alexander shifted, pulling me into his lap. He brushed a stray strand of hair away from my face, his gaze penetrating and intense. In the dim light, his green eyes shimmered with a mixture of tenderness and disbelief, and beneath that, I could sense a flicker of fear lurking in the shadows.

“I’m here,” I whispered softly, taking his hand and pressing it against my chest. I wanted him to feel the steady rhythm of my heartbeat, a reassurance that I was truly alive. “It’s real. It’s me.”

“I want to hear everything from your point of view,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “Tell me what it was like. What you remember.”

And so, I began to share my story. For the next half hour, I poured my heart out to him, carefully navigating around the most painful memories—the moments of my death that still felt too raw to articulate. I spoke of awakening in the forest, of the farmer who had unknowingly aided my return, and the profound sense of confusion and loneliness that enveloped me.

I recounted every detail—the hardest parts, the moments of joy, the depths of sorrow. I described the heart-wrenching feeling of watching him cradle our son, knowing I couldn’t reveal my presence. I shared the bittersweet experience of leaving flowers on my own grave, a gesture of love and loss intertwined.

And, of course, I told him about the countless times I yearned to reveal myself to him but found myself paralyzed by fear.

By the time I finished, I was breathless, tears streaming down my cheeks, leaving a trail of warmth that Alexander gently kissed away. We lay there, tangled in each other, the world outside forgotten, still dressed yet completely exposed in the vulnerability of our hearts.