Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 297

Hades

"I need space." Her words drifted through the air like feathers. A whisper—soft, tender—but they landed like a blow to the chest.

I watched the workers pulling her clothing items out of our shared closet and placing them carefully into baskets before exiting the room for her old quarters.

With everyone out the door, the burning ache in my chest grew. I clenched my fists, jaw locking as I took it all in. She stood off to the side, monitoring them—arms crossed, her short hair lightly tousled. _{freēwēbηovel.c૦m}

The urge to walk up to her and beg collapsed before I even took the first step. She seemed so rigid, so unwilling to bend—for us... for even a chance of us.

How were we ever going to fix what I had broken when we wouldn't even share a bed? It all felt so utterly impossible. This rift was insurmountable.

I ran my hands through my hair, my back hunched under a defeat so heavy it had become hard to draw breath. My movements were frenzied as I built up the courage to walk to her.

Despite every foot of distance between us that waned, she still did not look at me.

Didn't turn in my direction.

It was as if I wasn't even there. Like I didn't matter enough to be seen—despite her confessing, before the entire Obsidian Council, that she would die for me without fear.

If she noticed me come up, she didn't show it—not even in the slightest.

My eyes darted over her features, searching for a sign of something—anything—rather than this cold wall I couldn't scale, no matter how hard I fought or begged.

The jagged, coarse words scraped my insides, leaving my throat dry and bleeding.

"Red..."

The reaction was instant. Her shoulders stiffened, color bleeding from her cheeks and neck.

It felt like a lifetime ago that I had called her that. The name almost sounded foreign.

Slowly, her head tilted up toward me.

"What is it, Hades?"

Monotone. Emotionless.

I swallowed, my palms clammy.

"We could work this out. You and I don't have to sleep on the same bed. I can sleep on the floor if you want me to."

"No." The reply came curt, clipped.

I flinched, watching her take a deep breath like she wanted to be anywhere but near me.

"We have to focus on the issue at hand. No distractions." She bit her lip to keep it from quivering.

"We are too..." she hesitated, biting down harder, her teeth imprinting the soft flesh.

"...tangled."

The word fell between us like a verdict. A guillotine—not swung in anger, but in quiet, mournful finality.

She blinked, slow and long, before her gaze dropped back to the floor.

"If we stay like this—half in, half out—we'll only get in each other's way. You won't be able to lead. I won't be able to breathe."

"Breathe?" My voice cracked—low, wounded.

"You can't breathe around me?"

She didn't answer. She didn't have to.

The silence said it all.

"We've both made choices," she continued, steadier now.

"And we're still making them. The Blood Moon is coming. The council is watching. Every day feels like a blade pressed closer to our throats. I can't afford to slip... not because I let myself get too close to you again."

I shook my head, inching closer like a man clinging to the edge of a cliff.

"Then don't get close. Just stay. Just exist near me. Please."

"I can't." Her voice was soft. Crushed velvet. Final.

"Because near you, I forget who I'm supposed to be. I forget the plan. I forget the pain. And I can't afford to forget either."

Her eyes...

And they weren't angry.