Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 280

Hades

The footage jolted again.

A shadow moved at the edge of the smoke.

A small, slight form creeping closer.

I leaned forward, heart hammering.

It was a wolf—small, fawn-colored, its paws light on the bloodied ground.

It padded closer.

Closer.

And then the light caught its face.

Not Eve.

Not another beast.

Felicia.

Felicia in shifted form, slipping through the wreckage like a carrion bird, while her sister bled out alone.

The room stayed silent.

No one breathed.

No one moved.

Because somehow, impossibly, what had seemed like the end was only the beginning.

And everything we thought we knew...

had just been obliterated or it immensely more horrible that we could have been able to comprehend.

The footage stuttered again.

The fawn-colored wolf stalked closer, circling Danielle like a vulture scenting weakness. Danielle didn't notice at first—she was too focused on her newborn, whispering soft, broken words as she wrapped him tighter against her torn dress.

But when the wolf growled—low and sharp—Danielle's head jerked up.

Confusion first.

Then fear.

She tried to move, but her legs buckled beneath her. She shifted, trying to crawl backward, shielding Elliot with her body.

The fawn wolf bared its teeth.

Danielle screamed—a sound that flayed me alive as it cut through the speakers—and tried to shift, bones cracking under the strain.

But she couldn't.

Not after labor.

Not bleeding out.

She was trapped. Defenseless.

"Please!" Danielle gasped, holding Elliot close, her body trembling from head to toe. "Felicia, please, not him. Not—"

The wolf lunged.

It struck her hard enough to knock her flat on her back, Elliot slipping from her grasp. Danielle cried out, scrambling toward him, but the wolf snapped at her shoulder, dragging her away by the fabric of her dress.

Lucinda's hand flew to her mouth with a wet choking sound.

Onscreen, Danielle screamed again—higher, more panicked—as she fought to crawl back to her child.

But Felicia didn't go for the baby.

Not at first.

She shoved him aside like he was nothing, a tiny wriggling bundle that tumbled into the scorched grass.

Then she turned back to Danielle.

The camera caught everything—the snarl, the gleam of teeth—before Felicia struck.

She went for Danielle's torso, ripping through flesh and bone with wet, sickening sounds that filled the lab with the stink of horror.

There were no words.

No dramatics.

Just the noise of it.

The tearing.

The crunching.

The desperate, ragged gasps as Danielle tried to scream through the agony, her legs kicking weakly against the dirt.

The camera jolted, and we only caught flashes—blood against charred grass, the white of Danielle's eyes wide and terror-stricken, the pitiful whimpers escaping her throat.

Lucinda gagged beside me. Fell to her hands and knees and vomited onto the sterile tile.

Montegue stood frozen.

Stone.

There was no saving his dignity now. His shoulders shook—once, twice—then he crumbled to the floor beside his wife, hands pressed uselessly to his face as if trying to block out what he had just seen.

Danielle's body jerked once more.

Then went still.

Until, I had found her.

She was both the facilitator and a murderer. _{fгeewebnovёl.com}