Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 329

Eve

The Road to Elysia's Burial Ground

2 Hours, 34 Minutes to Midnight

The Vehicle roared against the quiet of the road, tires biting into gravel and dust as the convoy snaked its way through the valley. The moon hung heavy above us—too close, too bright. The air was colder here, thinner, like even the sky was holding its breath.

I sat in the lead vehicle, flanked by two guards and a silent driver. My gaze stayed fixed on the windshield, even though my eyes burned from not blinking.

Behind us, in the secondary truck, Hades lay sedated—contained inside a specialized pressure pod reinforced with obsidian-laced alloy

He was still in there.

But for how long?

My fingers trembled in my lap. I clenched them into fists.

Cain was already at the site, preparing the perimeter and stabilizing the burial ground's old magic. The land itself—Elysia's resting place—was sacred and volatile. Older than any known Lycan script, it was said to sit on a faultline where the veil between life and spirit was thinnest.

And tonight, that faultline would be cracked open.

The closer we got, the more I could feel it—like static against my skin, like voices brushing the edge of hearing. Rhea, stirred beneath my skin, uneased.

This wasn't just a Rite.

This was a resurrection of memory, of magic, of legacy.

The Fenrir's Chain would be forged here—between the living, the corrupted, and the soul of a goddess who once walked in flesh.

And if we failed…

If Hades rejected the Rite, if the Flux overwhelmed him, if Elliot wasn't found in time...

I didn't know if it would be enough.

I didn't know if he'd want to come back.

But I would offer it anyway.

Even if it cost me everything.

The vehicle slowed. The driver murmured into the intercom, and the Deltas beside me tensed.

"We've reached the gate," one of them said. "Cain's signal is confirmed. No breach."

I exhaled. Nodded. And stepped out.

Ahead of me, through the swirling fog and towering shadows of dead trees, lay the heart of the burial ground. The path was lined with ancient stones etched with runes that glowed faintly under the moonlight. The very air felt sacred—tinged with the bittersweet scent of petrichor and something older… something waiting.

The guards made a perimeter sweep while the driver stepped out to help unload the equipment for the outer wards, but they all knew the rules. Only Stravos blood could cross into the inner sanctum of the burial site. It had been decreed centuries ago, encoded into the very runes etched into the stone.

A law written in magic. A boundary forged in blood.

Once the initial check was complete, the guards returned to the edge of the warded line. The driver saluted silently, eyes careful, before backing away with the rest. They didn't question it. They knew better. The land itself would reject them if they dared trespass.

I stood at the threshold.

Just ahead, Cain waited beside the ancient stone archway that marked the entry into the sanctified zone. His black coat flared in the wind, the gold sigil of House Stravos glinting faintly against the dull shimmer of obsidian-veined stone. He glanced at me once, then turned toward the secondary vehicle where Hades was kept sedated.

"I'll take him the rest of the way," he said, voice low. "We can't risk contamination. If even one outsider crosses the line, the magic might lash out. And we won't get a second chance at this."

He pressed his palm to the locking mechanism of the truck. The rune recognized him immediately—Stravos blood. The sigils blinked once, then dissolved into smoke.

Cain stepped inside, sealing the door behind him.

I turned back for one last look at the guards—now silhouettes fading into the mist behind the barrier line. None of them followed.

I was alone.

Just me.

Just blood.

Just legacy.

The fog thickened as I moved forward, the moonlight shimmering in pale ribbons across the stones, guiding me deeper.

The inner sanctum of the burial ground wasn't a temple. It wasn't a hall of honor.

It was a cave.

Ragged. Cold. Untouched.

The entrance was hidden behind a curtain of hanging moss and creeping root-veins, a living veil of green and grey that pulsed faintly under the full moon. The earth here remembered her.

This place had swallowed Elysia whole when she died.

Carved into a mountain slope at the edge of the world, it was here that her body had been carried after she was cut down by Malrik Valmont, her own uncle. Betrayed. But not broken. The power she left behind soaked into the soil, wove itself into the air—and even now, thousands of years later, it responded to her blood like a heartbeat skipping in recognition.

And now she—I—was back.

It was almost cruel. To return here, not as a goddess, not as a martyr, but as a cleaver of souls, prepared to sever a bond that should've never been forged.

To perform a Rite meant to purge what remained of my old lover.

I stepped past the final set of runes, my boots crunching over sacred gravel.

The moment I entered, the air shifted.

Heavy.

Expectant.

The walls were lined with sigils that glowed brighter as I passed. A low hum echoed through the cave, the kind that sank into your bones and made your thoughts go still. At the center was a raised altar—stone and vine and bone—surrounded by six carved columns of varying heights. They pulsed with the same rhythm as the moon above.

Cain had already wheeled Hades into position. The pressure pod was set down gently before the altar, still locked, still glowing.

He looked at me. "The ground's stable. The magic's listening. But it won't wait forever."

I nodded, too choked to speak.

Cain moved to the side of the pod and placed both hands against its edges, murmuring an incantation in the old tongue. The locks disengaged with a heavy click, and the containment seals hissed as they released.

The glass slid open.

Hades lay there—pale, motionless, bare-chested. Runes had been inscribed into his skin during sedation, glowing faintly like embers under the skin. His eyes didn't open.

But the Flux inside him stirred. _{ƒrēewebnovel.com}

I could feel it.

It didn't want this. It didn't want to be banished. It wanted to consume, to tether, to remain.

The ritual hadn't even begun yet and already the air was shuddering around him, heat distorting the edges of his form. Shadows clung unnaturally to his ribcage and spine, like smoke that had learned how to love flesh.

Cain backed away. "I'll remain at the border. The moment you begin the invocation, you're on your own."

My heart thundered.

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Sanctum Core

2 Hours, 11 Minutes to Midnight

The pod's locks clacked open with a final hiss, but there was no body to lift—no man to cradle or awaken.