Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 274

The next two chapters will be them dismantling their complex feelings so heads up (this was harder to write LOL):

Eve

Elliot lay in my arms, sleeping now, body ached into mine. His body was warm and small. It was now when I held him like this that I realized just how tiny he was, his frame slight, signs of the incessant unnecessary invasive medical procedures, and under-eating.

I knew who was responsible now, without a shadow of doubt, yet would it be enough to grant me reprieve from the guilt that gnawed at me, the hollowned that had taken root in me.

Kael had left, leaving me with... Hades.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of Elliot's soft breathing.

None of us spoke

Because...

What was there left to say?

I raised my head slowly, and from where he now stood, our eyes met. It was like a clash, steel against flesh as agony seized me.

He looked different...

He was different.

Skin, the pallor of snow, the red ring around the stormy greys I had come to love and then fear was more striking. His eyes were sunken, downcast pulled down by the weight of all that had happened.

His scent was pungent, eerie, death in itself. The hairs on my arms raised, the presence of the flux palpable from where I was.

"I should've believed you," he said, voice low.

I found myself flinching at the voice I could no longer recognise. It was worn and jagged enough to pierce.

His voice barely carried.

"I should've believed you." He repeated

There was a pause.

A breath.

Then the soft, shaky scrape of his boots against marble as he shifted his weight—awkward, unsure.

I didn't look away. Not yet. Not even as he let out a dry, humorless laugh that sounded like it hurt.

"I—I don't even know what the fuck I thought I was doing," he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair, fingers curling at the roots like he could tear the thoughts out. "Gods. I mean—how the hell do I even start?"

Another pause. His voice cracked the next time he spoke, lower now, like it was buckling beneath him.

"I ran from you. And when I didn't run, I punished you." He scratched at his neck, hard. "I let them do things to you I wouldn't let happen to a stranger. And I told myself it was justice. That it was righteous. That you were the monster."

His eyes didn't meet mine. Not now.

"But I was the one foaming at the mouth, wasn't I?" he asked, more to himself than to me. "You stood there, broken and begging, and I—" His voice caught. "I wanted you to hurt. I needed you to, because if you weren't lying, then what the fuck did that make me?"

His hand dropped. Hung limp at his side.

He was unraveling, piece by piece, but not like before—not with fury. With something far worse.

Regret.

Real, seeping, irreversible regret.

"I don't have a speech," he said, looking up—just a flicker of eye contact before he dropped it again. "No redemption arc. No plan. I just…"

He inhaled sharply through his nose.

"Can I come closer?" he whispered. "Just a little?" He looked as shattered as I felt. "Please..."