Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 252

Hades

The vial was ready.

Thick. Black. Burning.

"Last chance, Your Majesty," Tavin said.

I held out my arm.

The straps tightened.

The needle plunged in.

The world stopped.

The first drop hit my bloodstream and pain—blinding, searing pain—shot through my spine like lightning striking bone. I convulsed, fists clenching as the darkness raced through my veins.

And with it—

Memories.

Her laughter in the ring.

Her face, vulnerable defiant, the first time she stood up to me.

The weight of her curled against my chest the night she called herself mine.

The way she whispered Red, like it meant salvation.

The way her lips trembled the first time, she told me she trusted me.

The night I told her I did, too.

Each memory struck like a dagger.

Not piercing my body.

But my heart.

Cerberus howled inside me, his cry fractured with grief. "STOP! Please—pull it out—pull it OUT—"

But the flux spoke over him. "Yes, more, more, more." The corruption's disembodied voice enough in my skull.

I gritted my teeth, tears burning the edges of my eyes—the memories ripping through me like ghosts begging to stay.

Then came the second dose.

It was worse.

The lights above flickered violently, glass cracking in the ceiling. Power surged. The heart pulsed in its chamber—no longer faint but alive. Responding. Thriving.

Dr. Tavin screamed, "His vitals—he's seizing!"

"I said let it run its course!" I roared.

My skin blackened along the veins. My bones creaked as strength clawed its way through marrow. I gasped, every part of me thrumming with something ancient and merciless.

Cerberus faded, his voice echoing like a dying echo.

"Please… don't let her be the last good thing we remember."

I didn't answer.

Because the pain had reached its crescendo.

And then—

Silence.

Not peace.

Stillness.

Like a corpse exhaling its final breath.

I opened my eyes.

The world looked… different.

Sharpened.

Colder.

Calmer.

Deadlier.

I stood. No trembling. No hesitation.

Just clarity. Cruel, clean clarity.

"We will have to monitor you for the next 24 hours, just to...?" one of the assistants asked in a whisper. None could look me in the eye.

I got up, making them all take a step back. "There is no need," my vision swam.

I looked down at my hands.

Stronger. Steadier. Empty.

I turned toward the door.

Sleep was impossible.

The flux twisted beneath my skin, crawling like serpents through my veins. My body throbbed in silence, but it was my mind that screamed.

Every time I closed my eyes, she was there.

Eve.

Her smile.

Her tears.

Her scent, clinging to the folds of my coat like the last warmth I'd ever know.

The memories refused to die.

The flux had dulled so much—fear, hesitation, guilt—but not her. Not yet. Her presence clung to me like smoke after a fire, seeping into every corner I couldn't seal off.

I growled, raking a hand through my hair, pacing the room like a caged thing.

Each step felt too light and too heavy at once.

My hands trembled—not from weakness, but from the frustration of still feeling.

Still remembering her.

Still loving her.

> "Why?"

"Why won't it leave me?" _{frёewebηovel.cѳm}

Cerberus didn't answer.

He hadn't said a word since the second dose. Not even a whisper. It was like he had curled inward, recoiling from the corruption trying to take hold.

I checked the clock on the far wall.

12:34 AM.

Tomorrow, her suffering begins.

And the thought…

Made me sick.

Not because I doubted the plan.

But because I cared. Still. Still.

The rage curled tighter in my chest.

I stood sharply, walking to the mirror by the wall. My skin was pallid—ashen. The black veins pulsed beneath the surface like cracks in stone. My reflection stared back, something unfamiliar already settling into my features.

Sharper.

Harder.

But the worst came when I felt it.

A dull ache, right at the base of my skull.

I winced, reached up—and froze.

Something... was there.

Something hard.

A point. A growth.

I touched it.

And the world exploded.

Images slammed into me like an avalanche—blinding, suffocating, ancient.

Red hair. A battlefield drenched in ash.

A woman, tall and regal, wielding a blade of fire.

A scream—then steel through her chest.

"Elysia!"

The name was a scream in my skull, a voice not mine—Vassir's.

Not just a name.

A memory.

A death.

A Mother of all Lycans.

I staggered back, grabbing the edge of the sink to steady myself. My heart hammered like it was trying to escape my ribs. My breathing was ragged. The taste of old blood clung to my throat.

These weren't my memories.

This was the prince whose heart now beat with mine.

The price of the vein was no longer just pain. It was identity. It was inheritance. It was funny, that it only after my father died that fully began to embrace Vassir's Vein.

I straightened slowly, my reflection blurry, warped. I no longer looked like the man I was just a day ago.

The black veins beneath my eyes had thickened. My irises were darker—almost red under the right light.

> "You're changing," Cerberus whispered weakly.

"You've let him in.

But I ignored him. I needed him, like he needed me, a vessel.