Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 126

Eve

I knew this design.

Knew it because I used to have one just like it.

My fingers brushed the soft fabric, and a strange, almost breathless laugh escaped me.

This was the same onesie I wore when I was nine—the one Ellen and I had begged our mother for during a winter market. We’d worn them for weeks, even after they became too small, refusing to let them go.

It felt like staring at a ghost.

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, gripping the edge of the onesie a little tighter to ground myself.

Behind me, Hades stepped closer, his gaze burning into the side of my face.

"That one?" His voice was quieter this time, less teasing.

I nodded, but I didn’t turn around. "Yeah. This one."

There was a long pause, heavy and unspoken.

I could feel him watching me, but he didn’t press.

After a few moments, I forced a smirk, shifting the onesie over my arm. "You’re going to hate it."

"I already do," Hades muttered, but there wasn’t much bite to his tone.

I glanced over my shoulder, catching the way his eyes softened—just slightly—as they flicked between me and the onesie in my arms.

"You’re not backing out now, are you?" I teased, raising a brow.

His smirk returned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I wouldn’t dream of it."

I nodded toward the rack. "Good. Because we still have five more to find." I tightened my grip on the fabric.

He caught the action, his eyes narrowing. "What’s wrong?" He asked, his gaze flickered from the onesie to my eyes. "Red?"

I quickly turned around. "Come on," I said lightly, brushing past him before he could pry any further.

But I felt his presence linger at my back, like a shadow that refused to be shaken off.

The boutique was vast, but the air between us felt smaller somehow. I kept moving, one hand steady on the soft fabric as I searched through racks of loungewear, hoping the distance would quell the sudden ache in my chest.

It didn’t.

Hades followed a few paces behind, as if he knew—knew that if he pressed too hard, I might shatter like glass.

His silence was louder than anything he could have said.

I hated that he noticed.

"Just five more?" he asked after a while, his voice cutting through the quiet. "I thought your would have preferred to torture me with more horrendous options to assassinate my honor with."

I smirked without turning around. "I’m feeling merciful."

"That’s a first."

I glanced at him over my shoulder, catching the faint flicker of humor in his eyes. His usual arrogance was still there, but something else lingered beneath it—something assertive, something knowing.

It was strange to see Hades like this. Relaxed wasn’t the right word, but the sharp edges he usually carried seemed dulled, as if the weight of the world he carried on his back had been lifted just for tonight.

I held up a particularly offensive onesie—a dragon, bright green with a tail that trailed to the floor—and raised a brow. "This one screams ’King of Lycans,’ don’t you think?"

He gave it a once-over, deadpan. "Absolutely. Nothing inspires fear like lime green and polyester wings and were not looking for unicorn onesies?"