Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 292

Eve

Cain didn't move.

Didn't blink.

Didn't even breathe.

But for the first time since he entered the room, he looked… stunned. Not impressed. Not amused. Just stunned.

Good.

Because I wasn't done.

"You really thought that was your trump card?" I spat, my breath hot against his cheek. "That dragging Jules' death out like some sick puppet show would somehow twist the knife enough to make me turn?"

I let go of his lapels, shoved him backward, hard enough that he staggered one step.

"You picked the wrong corpse, Stravos," I snapped. "Because that—" I jabbed a finger toward him, shaking with rage, "—was the stupidest shit you've ever tried. And I've heard you talk before."

His expression tightened. Just a fraction. Enough.

"Your brother put on the same show," I continued, voice rising now. "The cruelty dressed as mercy. The control wrapped in affection. The obsession painted as protection. You all think you're playing some kind of divine chess game."

I stepped forward, fire licking beneath my skin, Rhea pulsing right beneath my ribs.

"But here's the truth, Cain. Just because your father was supposed wear a fucking rubber but didn't doesn't make you any less of a Stravos."

That silenced him.

Rook stiffened in the corner, probably trying not to laugh, cough, or die.

Cain's mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out. Nothing smug. Nothing poised.

A thin line of blood slid from Cain's nose, stark against the sharp planes of his face.

He didn't wipe it.

Didn't flinch.

Instead, that goddamned smile crept up like it had been waiting all along—slow, feral, reverent.

"Fuck…" he whispered, breathless.

His pupils were blown wide now, a flush blooming across his cheekbones like he'd just been kissed by the very chaos he'd tried to control.

"No wonder," he murmured, gaze fixed on me like I'd just stepped into some sacred myth. "No wonder you had my baby brother twirling around your little finger."

He pulled away, adjusting the lapels of his suit like I hadn't just slapped the taste out of his mouth and dismantled whatever script he'd come in here rehearsing. His fingers moved slow, precise, as though savoring the moment.

His eyes didn't leave me.

Not once.

Up. Down. Up again.

Like he was memorizing this version of me—the one burning alive in front of him.

"You're magnificent," Cain said, almost to himself. "Utterly… ruined. Deadly."

He exhaled a low laugh, running his tongue along his teeth like he could still taste the defiance on the air.

Cain's smile didn't falter as he straightened his suit, fingers brushing over invisible dust, though the blood still trailed lazily from one nostril. He looked every bit the devil in the details—sharp, cold, and unbothered by pain that would make lesser men blink.

"I'm not here to offer a partnership," he said at last, tone silken, low, dangerous.

I blinked. "What?"

"I'm offering allegiance."

The word hit me harder than his presence ever had.

For a moment, I stared, stunned into stillness.

Allegiance?

"That makes no sense," I snapped, stepping back instinctively. "You don't offer allegiance. Not to me. You're Cain Stavros. I'm the exiled daughter of a traitorous bloodline—an accused monster, in case you forgot. If we were to work together, it would be as equals, not under some royal vow. That would be a partnership. A strategy. Mutually beneficial. That's it."

I gestured sharply between us. "You bow to no one. Especially not to the girl from the other side of the damn war."