Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 222

Hades

"Morrison's health has deteriorated," Governor Gallinti informed, looking through some documents I had distributed. "His wife says that he has not been able to step out of his room. He has been talking about the 'voices,' so to say."

Everyone tried to remain casual as the words hung heavily in the air, but I could see their eyes darting clandestinely toward me—except Kael, who scoffed in amusement.

I cleared my throat, tossing that unneeded discussion out the window. "On to the topic of today's discussion."

"The Valmonts are gone..."

"And they won't be back for a long while if all goes to plan."

A collective breath was let out.

"The donor remains with us, then," Ambassador Silas sighed.

The title of donor grated against me, my jaw clenching so I did not give Morrison a friend.

"Yes, she stays."

"So there is no need for the coronation," Governor Gallinti said. "She remains with us until the process of maturing the Fenrir's Vein is over."

I almost laughed. "The plan remains the same."

The table froze, but no one spoke.

"Or are you satisfied with not being granted the serum she will be donating? This is your choice. This Council was becoming a tad bit overcrowded."

My ear caught Governor Gallinti gulping.

"A werewolf has a Luna," Silas remarked, trying to sound casual, but the edge in his voice was unmistakable. "I wonder what Elysia would think."

"Goddesses have better things to do than concern themselves with mortal affairs," I replied smoothly, though the weight of Silas' words pressed against my patience. His challenge was deliberate—a test to see how far I was willing to go in defying tradition.

Kael smirked, drumming his fingers against the table. "So it's decided then. The princess stays, the coronation proceeds, and we finally get what we've been waiting for."

Silas' fingers twitched, betraying his unease. "And if she resists?"

I leaned forward, my gaze sweeping across the gathered council. "She won't. She thinks she is dying. Her getting poked with needles will be chalked up to me searching for a cure."

The flux surged forward, and I fought a wave of disgust. I wanted to rip out my tongue. The mark at the base of my neck burned so hot I was surprised I did not burst into flames. I swallowed the bile and continued. "Everything is under control."

"Of course you do," Montegue's oily voice slithered into the conversation, laced with its usual blend of cunning and quiet assertion. He was becoming his old self again—measured, deliberate, always speaking in carefully crafted half-truths that left room for doubt and speculation.

"Except for that one time..."

"But there have been some whispers."

Montegue let the words hang in the air, a baited hook waiting for a reaction. I didn't give him one.

Kael, however, was less patient. "Whispers," he repeated, amusement dripping from his tone. "Since when do we entertain the words of cowards who lack the spine to speak plainly?" He knew where this was going and how detrimental it would be to the plans for him to pull this before the council. I headed the council, but I had long since learned that no mortal being could be invincible in the face of many oppositions.

Power was like a taut rope—one could pull, bend, and manipulate it, but stretch it too far, and it would snap, leaving even the strongest to fall into the abyss.

I was not weak. But even kings knew when to loosen their grip before the rope frayed beyond repair.