Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 273

Hades

The sound of Felicia's breathing was wet and uneven—half choking, half sobbing—as she crawled on her knees across the cold marble, arms trembling like they couldn't bear the weight of her guilt. Her hands reached up to her face—twisted, mangled, leaking blood. She hesitated.

Then—

Crack.

The sound echoed through the hallway like a curse as she pushed her jaw back into place. Her scream was muffled. Her whole body convulsed. But she did it.

She forced herself upright and met Eve's eyes, a trembling wreck of the woman who once stood so high above the rest.

"P-please…" she whispered, barely coherent.

Eve's expression didn't change.

Her voice was frostbitten steel.

"Shove it back. No one needs your pleading."

Felicia flinched like she'd been slapped.

Then she looked down.

At herself.

At the blood on her hands.

At the red stain on the floor.

And something inside her… broke.

The grandeur. The delusion. The self-righteousness. All of it shattered with the next breath.

"I did it," she whispered.

The hallway froze.

"I gave Silverpine the blood to track the vehicle that night. Danielle's blood. Your blood. I leaked the route—because I knew you would survive it. I needed it to look real."

Air lacked oxygen.

Eve didn't move.

Felicia kept going, her voice fraying with every word.

"I gave you the last dose of the trigger serum when you refused to kill them. You had snapped out of it… you were calming down… and I…" Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I injected you through the car roof anyway. I needed them to die. They all had to die. I needed those bastards dead."

Her knees hit the marble again, this time like penance.

"I was the facilitator."

The words were barely audible. Like the confession itself was cutting her throat open.

But we heard them.

All of us.

The air snapped.

And then—

Eve laughed.

A sound like glass and agony.

It clawed through the silence, too loud, too ragged to be real. A sound born of too much pain, too much betrayal, too much truth.

It echoed off the walls like a funeral hymn rewritten in madness.

She clutched her ribs as it shook her. Her knees wobbled.

Then, mid-laugh—

She collapsed.

I was under her before she hit the ground.

"Eve—!"

Her eyes fluttered, her body limp in my arms. Her skin was ice. Blood soaked her shirt. Her breath came shallow, uneven.

"No, no, no—"

Kael dropped beside me, panic written across every inch of him.

Elliot broke free from his shock and ran to her side, his small fingers grasping at her arm, his lips parted in a silent scream. His shoulders trembled.

He didn't make a sound.

Just wept.

Shaking.

Clutching her hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to this world.

I caught her before she hit the floor.

But it didn't feel like catching.

It felt like collapsing.

Like the world cracked under her weight—and took me with it.

Eve's blood was warm against my hands, but her skin was cold. Her body was limp, too limp. And her eyes—

Her eyes fluttered, like a light about to go out.

I sank to my knees with her in my arms, but I didn't call her name. I didn't dare. I didn't deserve to speak it.

Because this wasn't just blood loss.

This wasn't just exhaustion.

This was the weight of a war I let happen.

A war I built.

Elliot clung to her side, pressing his small hand to her arm, silent tears streaming down his cheeks. Kael crouched nearby, trying to assess her injuries, trying to help. But I didn't move.

I couldn't move.

Because the shaking in my hands had nothing to do with fear.

It was shame.

Rotting. Infectious. Final.

I didn't speak.

I didn't beg.

What was there to say?

That I was sorry?

That I didn't know?

That I had believed everyone but her?

That I had taken the word of a traitor over the trembling hands of a woman who only wanted to protect what little was left of her life?

No.

No, there was nothing I could say.

Not without it tasting like rust and cowardice.