Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 218

Eve

I blinked, dazed by the state of the office—the cracked walls, the shattered wood, the lingering pulse of something dark and violent in the air.

The air carried the coppery scent of blood and I braced myself for a reaction.

"It's blood, Evie. You are stronger than that." Rhea's held back the bile and fear. I could think clearly.

Hades stood in the center of it, rigid, his shoulders tense with the kind of restraint that made my stomach knot. His shadows were still curling at his feet, writhing like living things trying to claw their way back out.

Felicia was across the room, pressed against the edge of his desk, her breathing steady but sharp, like she had just been through hell but refused to show it.

And the blood—her blood—was smeared across her lip, trailing down her arm where a wound had been only seconds ago.

I swallowed.

I wasn't stupid. I had walked in on something dangerous.

Something that felt like it had been teetering on the edge of breaking apart.

Elliot stirred in my arms, letting out a small, sleepy sigh, completely unaware of the storm I had just stepped into. I adjusted my hold on him instinctively, my fingers tightening around the soft fabric of his shirt.

And then, I forced my voice to be light, calm, even as my pulse pounded in my ears.

"Hades," I said slowly, watching the way his name seemed to drag him back. "What happened here?"

Hades' gaze snapped to me—quick, sharp, like a predator that had just realized he wasn't alone.

And for a moment, I didn't recognize the look in his eyes.

Dark. Wild. Hollow.

It made something cold slither down my spine.

But then—just as quickly as it came—it was gone.

His expression shifted, the dangerous edge retreating, locking itself away behind a practiced mask. His shadows stilled, withdrawing back into the depths where they belonged.

"It's nothing," he said, his voice even. Too even.

Felicia let out a sharp, amused breath, dabbing at the blood on her lip with her sleeve. "Nothing," she echoed, voice laced with mockery. "Right. Because you always redecorate with your fists."

I glanced between them, my stomach twisting.

They had fought.

No—Hades had fought.

But not just physically.

There was something unspoken sitting between them, something heavier than just bruises and broken furniture.

Something deeply personal.

I exhaled, shifting Elliot higher on my hip before setting my gaze back on Hades.

"Why is there blood?" I asked, quieter now.

Hades' jaw ticked.

Felicia smirked.

And that was what made my heart sink.

Felicia was enjoying this.

Enjoying the fact that whatever had happened had shaken Hades to his core.

He was trying to hide it, trying to be composed, controlled. But I had spent enough time with him to see past the walls he built around himself.

He was unraveling.

And Felicia had something to do with it.

I took a slow, careful step forward. "Hades," I said again, softer this time.

His gaze snapped to mine.

And just like that, his expression shifted again—less cold, more raw.

Almost like… like he was afraid.

Not of me.

But of what I had just walked into.

Felicia hummed. "Go on, Your Highness," she drawled. "Tell her, or should I?"

Hades' entire body went rigid.

I frowned. My grip on Elliot tightened. "I was not speaking to you," I said quietly, without glancing at her, my eyes solely on Hades.

I heard her let out a huff.

His gray eyes said a thousand things that I could not decipher, especially with the suffocating tension in the room.

His throat worked as he swallowed. "Red..."

"We were talking about the wife he can't seem to let go. The one he can't face since you"—her voice took on a venomous edge—"since you took her place."

The words landed like a slap to the face, cold and deliberate, slicing through the thick tension with razor precision.

Took her place.

I hadn't thought much about Danielle.

I knew her name. I knew the ghosts she left behind, the shadows that still clung to Hades. I knew her death had carved something irreparable into him. But for the first time, the weight of it pressed against me, suffocating, relentless.

Like I had trespassed somewhere I didn't belong.

I could feel the shift, the way my pulse slowed, the way the edges of my vision burned gold. _{freeωebnovēl.c૦m}