Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 255

Hades _{ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom}

The door hissed open and they filed in—five of them, each holding a thick envelope. The scent of sterilized paper, ink, and mild fear clung to them. They kept their eyes down, respectful, cautious, and more than a little afraid of what I might do.

I gestured silently. They moved forward and laid the envelopes neatly on the table between Kael and me before stepping back toward the wall.

Kael's brows drew together. Confusion replaced the fire in his eyes.

I picked up the first envelope, cracked the seal, and slid the papers across the table toward him.

"Go ahead," I said, my voice quieter now. "Read them."

He hesitated—only for a moment—then dropped to his knees beside the table. His bound hands fumbled awkwardly with the sheets, flipping through them. His eyes scanned each line, faster at first, then slower… and slower still.

He grabbed the second envelope.

The third.

The fourth.

By the fifth, his hands were trembling.

All of them said the same thing.

Eve was a genetic match to the Fenrir strain found in the remains of the massacre—the beast of the night. The rogue who ripped Danielle and Leon apart.

And Elliot?

Elliot wasn't mine.

Five different labs. Two different regions. All protected, verified, encrypted.

The same results.

Every time.

Kael didn't speak.

He sat back, heavily. The papers in his hands dropped like they weighed more than steel.

His lips moved, dry. "You had them redone?"

I nodded once. "Twice. In five different places."

Silence.

He stared at the papers in disbelief, as if staring hard enough might change what they said. As if sheer will alone could alter the truth he'd bet his life on.

His knees buckled beneath him. He slid fully to the floor, the results still clutched tightly in one hand.

I moved slowly, lowering myself to sit across from him on the cold floor.

For a moment, we were just two broken men—no rank, no throne, no gods watching.

"I was like you last night," I murmured. "Desperate for something to prove me wrong. Something—anything—to justify the ache I still felt when I thought of her."

Kael's throat worked around a sound that didn't quite become a word.

"She lied to me," I said. "Again. And it wasn't just omission. Not this time. This time… she let me believe I was someone I'm not. That Elliot was mine. That maybe I hadn't failed my Danielle entirely. That maybe, somewhere in this fucked-up story, something could still be sacred."

I looked down at my hands. They were steady now. But empty. Always empty.

"She let me believe that."

Kael didn't respond.