The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel Chapter 442

**TITLE: The Perfect 442**

“There is simply no alternative,” Margaret declared with a steely resolve, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “The crystal holds no value for you. You can’t even begin to comprehend how to activate it correctly. And even if, by some miracle, you did manage to figure it out, I would simply possess another body and shatter it before you had a chance to react.”

She gestured dismissively at the crystal, its sickly purple glow pulsating ominously from within its glass confines. “So, what will it be, Ella? Your life in exchange for theirs? Seems like a rather equitable trade to me.”

A wave of nausea washed over me, and I could feel the tremors in my hands. My mind raced with thoughts of Lucien, still confined to his room upstairs, his body swathed in bandages. I thought of Lilith, barely clinging to life in the infirmary, her breath shallow and labored. I recalled everything Alexander had endured because of Margaret’s relentless curse, and my heart ached for Anya—sweet, gentle Anya, who had always brought light into our darkest days.

If my death could shield them, protect them from further suffering… then perhaps it would be a sacrifice worth making.

“Ella, no,” Liam interjected, his voice filled with urgency as he read the turmoil etched across my face. “There has to be another way out of this.”

“What other way could there possibly be?” I retorted, my voice hoarse and strained. “She’s right. We can’t wield the crystal. We have no idea how it works. And she will relentlessly pursue them until she gets what she wants.”

“We’ll find a solution—”

“When?” I interrupted sharply, my frustration boiling over. “After she has killed Lucien? After she takes you from me? How many lives must be lost before I accept that this is the only path left?”

Suddenly, Alexander, his body swaying as he struggled to regain his balance, grasped my shoulders firmly, compelling me to meet his gaze. “Listen to me carefully. You are not going to do this. Do you understand? I will not allow it.”

“It’s not your decision,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, laced with despair.

“The hell it isn’t,” he shot back, his eyes blazing with intensity. “You are my mate. My wife. The mother of our son. I refuse to let you sacrifice your life for some twisted game orchestrated by a ghost.”

“How touching,” Margaret sighed mockingly, her impatience palpable. “But we are wasting precious time. Make your choice, Ella. Or I will make it for you.”

My gaze fell upon the crystal, still glowing ominously in its box—a useless artifact. We had exhausted every possible avenue, tried every method we could conceive to harness its power.

Then my eyes drifted to Margaret, her features distorted by Anya’s face, a cruel smile dancing across her lips. The triumph gleamed in her white eyes, a testament to her arrogance.

She believed she had won. She thought she had me trapped, with no escape in sight.

Perhaps she was right.

With a heavy heart, I pulled away from Alexander’s grasp and took deliberate steps toward the corner of the room, where we had left behind some supplies from our ritual preparations. Among the scattered items lay a knife, glinting ominously in the dim light.

The knife struck the glowing purple surface, and for a heartbeat, everything fell silent. No sound, no movement, just a stillness that enveloped us.

Then, in an instant, the crystal erupted.

The explosion of energy that surged forth was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It felt like pure, unadulterated power, a force that hurled everyone backward. The box disintegrated into nothingness, and shards of crystal shot out in every direction, glimmering in the sudden burst of vibrant green light that replaced the haunting purple glow.

I saw Alexander crash against the wall, saw Liam collide with the couch, and witnessed Anya’s body collapse to the ground as Margaret’s hold shattered, the spirit violently expelled from her.

And then, a sharp pain pierced my chest.

Looking down, I saw a large shard of crystal embedded just below my collarbone, blood blooming across my shirt like a dark flower.

The pain hit me a second later, sharp and consuming, narrowing my entire world to that single, excruciating sensation. I tried to call out to Alexander, to tell him I was okay, but no words formed. My legs buckled beneath me, and I felt myself plummet to the ground. The last image burned into my mind was Alexander’s face, contorted in horror, as he screamed my name—a sound that echoed in the depths of my fading consciousness.

X

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