The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel Chapter 402

**Chapter 402**

**Ella’s POV**

The memories of the previous night clung to me like a dense, suffocating fog, each thought a reminder of the choices I had made. I felt the weight of my actions pressing heavily on my chest, a burden I wasn’t sure I could carry. My father, Alpha Richard, was on his way, and the mere thought of his arrival sent a chill racing down my spine, wrapping around my heart like an iron grip.

Alexander stood beside me, his presence a steadying force. We exchanged a glance, one laden with unspoken fears and shared understanding. We both knew the gravity of the situation looming before us. I had taken a life, and with it, I had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.

Margaret was dead.

How could I even begin to come to terms with that reality?

As I hastily pulled on my clothes, the enormity of my actions crashed over me like a tidal wave. My father, the man who had shaped my life and molded my very being, was approaching, and dread coiled tightly within me. The fear was a living thing, squeezing my heart in a vice-like grip. I had never intended to kill anyone; that was never my plan. Yet here I stood, with her blood on my hands, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that my father was not merely coming for answers but perhaps for revenge.

What would he do to me? I wondered, anxiety gnawing at my insides. Would he imprison me in the depths of Stormhollow, locking me away as punishment? Would he twist this incident into a weapon to blackmail us, forcing us to comply with his demands? Or was he capable of something even darker? My mind raced with possibilities, each more sinister than the last. The man I once knew felt like a distant memory, and I couldn’t predict what he was truly capable of, especially if he had played a part in Margaret’s schemes. The uncertainty consumed me.

As we descended the staircase, my heart thudded loudly in my chest, each beat echoing my mounting dread. My father was already in the parlor, standing by the window, his silhouette stark against the bright morning light. The frost on the glass sparkled like diamonds, but his demeanor was anything but radiant. He was impeccably dressed, his posture rigid and unyielding—a far cry from the grieving man I had hoped to see.

Did he even know how to grieve? I doubted it. He hadn’t mourned my mother, after all.

“Alpha Richard,” Alexander said, positioning himself protectively beside me. His presence was a comforting shield, even without the bond that usually connected us. “I assume you’ve come to discuss the events of last night.”

“Indeed,” my father replied slowly, turning to face us. His icy gaze swept over Alexander first, then landed on me, a storm of hatred brewing in his eyes. I felt an instinctive urge to recoil from that frigid stare, but I forced myself to stand tall, lifting my chin defiantly.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” I asserted, my voice steady despite the tempest raging within me. “I wasn’t in control when it happened.”

His eyes blazed with fury. “Would you have done it had you been fully aware of your actions?”

I swallowed hard, grappling with the truth of his question. I wasn’t sure I could deny it. If there had been no other way to stop Margaret, then perhaps I would have resorted to that. Not out of desire, but out of sheer desperation. What choice did I have? Allow her to continue her reign of terror, amassing an army of the undead to prop herself and her son up?

My silence spoke volumes, and he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I never thought I would utter these words, but my daughter is a murderer.” His jaw twitched, a clear sign of his simmering rage, one I had recognized since childhood. “I should drag you back to Stormhollow in handcuffs.”

Before I could respond, Alexander stepped forward, a protective barrier between my father and me. “You will do no such thing. We all know the truth about Margaret’s plans—and let’s not pretend you were innocent in this matter, either. Should I make your involvement public and let the world decide?”

The color drained from my father’s face at Alexander’s threat. His pride, above all, was his most treasured possession, and the thought of his nefarious plans being exposed was clearly terrifying to him. He was already a broken man, isolated and failing in so many aspects of his life.

“Well, fortunately for you, Ella,” he said, spitting my name as if it were poison, “I have always been a good father. Therefore, I won’t—”

“A good father?” I interrupted, laughter bubbling up, sharp and bitter. “A good father? You do realize you’re the same man who sold me off for monthly paychecks, right? The same man who treated me like a mere tool the moment I was old enough to marry and bear children?”

“Oh, please. You and Alexander seem quite content together. Look at you both, plotting against me like old friends.”

“Yes, we are mates,” I replied, the word feeling foreign on my tongue, yet I pressed on. “I was fortunate in that respect. But don’t pretend for a second that you wouldn’t have sold me to the highest bidder for a quick buck. You’d have let an entire pack use me just to fund your wife’s shopping sprees.”

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