Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 301

Eve

Pain twisted into rage just before it could be dispelled.

Rhea's voice cut through the void, low and seething:

> "Burn the love and destroy him, Elysia. You have done it once before."

Elysia.

The name hit like a lightning bolt. Not Eve. Not Red.

Elysia. Mother o

And then...

Flashes.

Too fast. Too raw.

A woman.

Hair like wildfire, it was long, unbound, whipping in a violent wind. Her eyes were shadowed. A medieval dress clung to her bloodstained body, torn at the seams as she dropped to her knees.

She screamed, as her bones snapped and reshaped, skin stretching into fur so dark it drank the light. Her form contorted into a wolf unlike anything else, huge, ancient, and crowned in shadow.

She snarled at a shape. A figure.

Cloaked in black. No face. Just horns—twisted, curved, obsidian and smoking.

A second shadow loomed above the first. This one was familiar, betrayal bloomed in my chest.

It descended from the void, faceless but crowned in a withered silver crown.

Its hand—massive, pale, veined with light—reached down and gripped the horn of the figure below.

And the red-haired woman screamed,

"Malrik!"

Snap.

The horn broke in the starlit figure's grip.

The cloaked entity let out a horrible, atom-splitting shriek. The kind of sound that precedes a cataclysm. That creates one.

I gasped—and woke inside the nightmare again.

Hades.

On top of me. His weight, his breath, his eyes—

Still inside my mind, unraveling it.

But now—I was burning. Not from him.

From me.

"You don't get to rewrite me," I choked. "You don't get to decide who I am—"

I reached up—

And grabbed his horn.

It burned beneath my palm. Searing. Screaming. His body jerked as if struck.

> "No," he growled. "You belong to me."

And I bent.

With everything I had. My body shook. My muscles tore.

But the horn cracked.

His eyes widened—just for a moment. Fear broke through the Flux's haze.

And then—SNAP.

The sound was biblical. A death knell. A beginning.

Hades howled—a wretched, gurgling, disembodied thing. Like his soul had been split from his body.

It shredded through the dream realm like a black sonic quake.

Using the shock, I shoved my knees into his stomach and kicked.

He flew backward—slammed into the wall with a sickening crunch that sent cracks spiraling like frost in glass.

I shifted.

My skin split. My bones screamed. My wolf burst through, bigger than I had ever known her to be. She landed, claws digging into stone, eyes gleaming with vengeance.

Black fur shimmered. Not just black almost void.

Her fangs gleamed. Her lips curled.

Rhea was back.

And this time

We weren't running.

He rose slowly.

Shaking.

One of his hands clutched the broken horn—jagged at the base, leaking black-red ichor. The other trembled as he braced it against the fractured wall for balance. I could hear his breath—ragged, uneven, like something inside him had snapped loose.

Then he looked at me. _{ƒreewebηoveℓ.com}

And for the first time, he didn't snarl.

He stared.

At me.

At what I had become—shadow-bound, fur slick with darkness, ember eyes burning into his.

His eyes that had been searing and cruel, were blown wide.

With fear.

Rhea growled low in my throat, her rage simmering just beneath my skin.

> "Let me rip him open."

But I held. Watched. The air between us buzzed with violence, with heartbreak, with the thin thread between fury and restraint.

Then—

He dropped.

Collapsed like someone had cut his strings.

He fell to his knees. The broken horn clattered from his hand, hitting the floor with a sound that made me flinch.

His talons came together.

Those terrible wings—those mutated, corrupted things—fell limp behind him. Slumped and defeated.

And then, in a voice that wasn't just his—one deeper, older, echoing through marrow and shadow—he whispered,

> "Elysia… please forgive me."

The world stopped.

That name. That name.

Not Red. Not Eve.

Elysia.

Rhea went still. Not gone. Just... listening. Like something ancient inside both of us had stopped to reminisce.

He looked up at me. Slowly. Almost Reverently.

> "It is you," he said, voice breaking.

No command in it.

No hunger.

Just awe.

Just grief.

He bowed lower, talons dragging against stone, a tremor running through him like he might fall apart.

> "I thought the dreams were echoes," he rasped. "Ghosts. A punishment. But it's you… You're her."

I took a step forward.

Claws scraping like thunder.