Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 66

I worked away at the easel, attempting to lose myself in it. It was helping, but each time I got in too deep, I was drawn back by the statement: The prophecy is a lie.

A lump formed in my throat each time the words resonated in my mind. I paused when I was done and assessed my new painting. Today, I had chosen liquid painting, the art of capturing any liquid in a painting. The liquid I had chosen to paint came out better than I had anticipated—I was rusty, after all.

But the liquid wasn’t water or juice spilled onto the floor. This liquid was of a peculiar kind, one that hardened the lump in my throat the longer I stared at it.

Light from an unknown source shone on the viscous neon-green liquid on the surface. Like in my nightmares, it looked alive on the paper as well. A large needle flashed in the periphery of my mind, and I got up abruptly. My heart was running laps in my chest, trying to escape my ribcage.

The prophecy is a lie.

How could it be a lie? The statement was unfathomable. It should have been utterly impossible for it to be the truth. Yet, a part of me hoped…

That I was not the cursed twin and it had been a total coincidence I had shifted into a Lycan on my eighteenth birthday. It would mean that I was not the ruin of the pack.

The statement had so many implications that wrapping my mind around it brought on a migraine.

Then my heart dropped again. What if the nightmare hadn’t just been a distant memory—what if it had just been my imagination playing tricks on me?

I could still feel the prick of the needle as it was embedded in my side. The sting turned into an ebbing sensation as though I had just been injected. The ebbing grew more insistent, more impossible to ignore.

I touched my hand to my side, hoping that maybe the touch would make it go away. But it had the opposite effect. I jolted the moment my hand came in contact. I felt… pain.

My movements became hurried and feverish as I pulled up my blouse, my blood pumping so loudly I could hear the roaring in my ears. Without fabric over it, I pressed a finger to the area with trepidation. I swallowed thickly when, this time, I felt nothing. I moved my finger to another spot. Nothing.

My heart pounded as I pressed my trembling finger to another spot on my side. This time, the pain hit me like a shockwave, sharp and searing, bursting across my skin like fire. I gasped, my breath catching, and stumbled back, cradling the spot. I could hardly believe it, but there was no denying it. That same pain… the same cruel prick I’d felt in my nightmares.

My vision blurred as I tried to make sense of it. My mind fought against the memories—the sensation of a needle piercing my skin, the flood of that strange, venomous liquid. My skin burned where I’d pressed, throbbing like an open wound, yet there was no mark there. Nothing visible.

I forced myself to take a step, then another, toward the mirror in the corner of the room. My legs felt leaden, like they were made of stone. I didn’t want to look, to confirm that what I feared was real. But I couldn’t deny myself the truth any longer.

When I reached the mirror, I turned sideways, keeping my face out of view, unwilling to look into my own eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, steeling myself, and then I slowly peeled my blouse higher, exposing my side. My breath caught as I opened my eyes. _{freeweɓnovel.cѳm}

They were there.