Alpha King Chases Abandoned Luna novel Chapter 154

Victoria’s eyes darted frantically around the cemetery, searching for escape or assistance.

Finding none, her desperation grew.

“I will destroy you for this,” she threatened, her voice low and venomous. “When Ethan hears-”

I slapped her again, cutting off her words. “Say it!”

Victoria’s gaze locked on something near the grave–a broken piece of ceramic from a

shattered offering vase. Before I could react, her hand shot out, fingers closing around the jagged shard.

In one swift motion, she slashed at my hand, the sharp edge cutting deep into my flesh.

Pain exploded through my palm, hot and immediate. I instinctively loosened my grip, giving

Victoria the opening she needed.

She twisted away from me, scrambling backward on her hands and knees. Blood dripped from

my wounded hand onto Lily’s grave, dark droplets staining the white moonstone.

“You cut me,” I said, staring at my bleeding palm in disbelief.

Victoria’s lips curved into a triumphant smile as she rose to her feet. “And I’ll do worse if you

touch me again.”

I lunged toward her, but my injured hand threw me off balance. I stumbled, giving Victoria

precious seconds to reach into her designer bag.

“Stay back,” she warned, pulling out a small dark bottle–the same one she’d been about to

empty on Lily’s grave when I arrived.

My heart froze. “Victoria, don’t.”

Her eyes gleamed with malicious intent. “You should have let me leave.”

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<Chapter 92 Sacred Ground

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“Please,” I begged, my anger giving way to desperation. “Whatever that is, don’t pour it on my

daughter’s grave.”

Victoria’s smile widened, cruel and satisfied. “You want to know what this is? It’s a curse,

Olivia. An ancient one that ensures restless spirits.”

Horror washed over me. “You can’t believe in such things.”

“Can’t I?” Victoria uncapped the bottle. “The old wolves have their ways. Ways to ensure a

spirit never finds peace.”

I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the throbbing pain in my hand. “Don’t!”

But I was too late. Victoria upended the bottle over Lily’s tombstone, the dark liquid spilling

across the engraved name and dates.

“Don’t…” I had just gotten up from the ground, but before I could stand steady, I witnessed this

heartbreaking scene.

The viscous substance oozed down the face of the stone, seeping into the engraved letters of my daughter’s name. The moonlight caught it, giving it an oily, iridescent sheen.

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