Alpha King Chases Abandoned Luna

Chapter 140

The Alpha King is unavailable 140

of control.

"You can look now," I said when I finished.

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< Chapter 85 Matriarch's Mem

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Ethan turned, something clutched carefully in his hands. My breath caught when I recognized

Lily's mug, painstakingly pieced back together.

"I spent the night repairing it," he said, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "I know it doesn't

make up for what I did, but I wanted to try."

He held it out to me, the cracks visible but the mug whole again. The childish drawing of our

family-a family that never truly existed-made my heart ache.

"Olivia, about Lily's birthday..." Ethan began, his amber eyes earnest. “I didn't intentionally miss it. There was an emergency with Emma at the Silvercrest Pack Medical Den. Dr. Rivers diagnosed a spleen injury requiring immediate blood transfusion."

My hands trembled as I took the mug from him.

"I should have been there for Lily," he continued. "I know that now. It won't happen again."

His words, meant to appease, only deepened my pain. The authority in his voice- an Alpha

making a solemn vow-meant nothing. It was too late for promises.

"Won't happen again?" I repeated, my voice dangerously quiet. "She's dead, Ethan. Our daughter is dead."

Something snapped inside me. With a sudden movement, I hurled the mug against the wall.

sound of breaking ceramic echoed my broken heart as it

more.

worthy!" I declared, my voice

fall.

walked out, leaving him stunned amidst the shards of

(Matriarch Evelyn's POV)

morning air carried the scent of moonflowers as my

After three months at the ancient temple

the sacred rituals

arrived, Matriarch," Bernard Sheppard announced, opening my door with

had characterized his decades of

arm as

pay my respects to old

cemetery was peaceful, bathed in soft morning light. I made my way to Matilda's grave, my old bones protesting

a brief prayer, I turned

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gleaming in the soft

closer.

polished granite embedded with small moonstone crystals that seemed to absorb and reflect the light. But it was the photograph that captured my attention-a young girl, perhaps four or

aloud, my fingers tracing the engraved name.

in our hearts."

lived just five short years. Such a tragedy for

said a brief prayer for the child's spirit before continuing toward the cemetery exit. But the name echoed in my mind,

did it

with Olivia, my grandson's mate. She was holding a newborn baby, her face radiant

said, her voice filled

Estate. A little girl with emerald eyes, perhaps two or three years old, running to

she had called, her laughter like

heart pounding painfully in my chest. The face in my memory

on the

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