Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 158

Hades

Her eyes weren’t just curious; they were ravenous, clinging to that sealed envelope like it held the answers to every unspoken question gnawing at her mind. A thousand thoughts must have been clawing at her, each more desperate than the last.

I noticed the slight twitch in her hand, a subconscious inch forward. She wanted to see it. No, she needed to.

Kael noticed too. His grip on the envelope tightened, his jaw ticking with quiet warning.

"Leave us," I said, my tone brooking no argument.

Jules flinched, but this time, she didn’t protest. The last shred of stubbornness drained from her as she lowered her head. Her movements were slow, mechanical, as if dragging herself through molasses. She hesitated at the threshold, her shoulders rising with a sharp breath—like she might say something, plead once more.

But then she didn’t.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Silence bloomed in her absence, thick and suffocating.

"Kael," I said evenly, my eyes never leaving the envelope, "give it here." _{freёwebnovel.com}

He crossed the room and placed it delicately in my hand, as if it might shatter. The weight of it was heavier than mere paper should allow.

I ran a thumb along the seal, pausing for half a second before breaking it.

The crisp tear echoed in the quiet room.

Unfolding the document, my eyes flicked over the clinical language, scanning for the information that mattered.

And then I saw it.

My grip tightened involuntarily, the paper crinkling slightly under my fingers.

Goddess...

Suddenly, my feet turned liquid, the world tilting beneath me. Yet, every nerve lit up with exhilaration.

"Your Majesty?" Kael’s voice was wary.

I read it again, slower this time, as though the words might rearrange themselves into something that made sense.

But they didn’t.

Lunar Synchronization Index Report

Subject 1: Hades Stravos (Lycan, Obsidian Pack)

Subject 2: Ellen Valmont (Werewolf, Silverpine)

Test Type: Mate Compatibility Analysis

Status: 100% Compatible

---

Findings:

— Subject 1 possesses the Vassir’s Vein (Flux Corruption), a rare and unstable anomaly derived from the Vampiric Essence of the Vampire Prince, Vassir.

— Subject 2 carries the Fenrir’s Marker, an ancient and volatile werewolf trait signifying direct descent from the Progenitor Bloodline.

— Cross-analysis indicates full-spectrum compatibility between Vassir’s Vein and Fenrir’s Marker, despite traditionally incompatible species lineage.

— Anomalous bond detected: The synchronization between both subjects transcends standard mating parameters.

— *Absolute Compatibility overrides all genetic, species, and metaphysical barriers. This level of synchronization is classified as Unprecedented.

— Projected Bond Strength: Immutable and irreversible.

— Warning: The fusion of Vassir’s Vein and Fenrir’s Marker may trigger unknown and potentially catastrophic consequences under lunar or emotional duress.

I stared at the words, feeling the ground beneath me give way.

Impossible.

The Vassir’s Vein—my curse, my strength, my affliction—was never meant to coexist with anything. It was volatile, a raw tear in my very nature, something even my father feared enough to never take it himself despite the power that came with its infection.

And yet here it was.

Bound, balanced, matched perfectly with the Fenrir’s Marker.

The two greatest anomalies that have ever been discovered, fitting together like forged steel and sharpened stone.

No force of blood, lineage, or nature should have allowed it.

But the report was clear.

A sharp, humorless sound that tore through the suffocating stillness.

"Love?" I spat the word like it burned my tongue.

Kael didn’t flinch, but his eyes sharpened, watching me closely.

The idea was so absurd, so grotesque, it made my stomach twist.

I was not some lovesick fool, stumbling into affection. Love was weakness. A leash. A vulnerability I couldn’t afford.

But—

Her eyes.

Turquoise. Clear, cold, and burning all at once.

They flashed in my mind without warning, and something in my chest constricted.

The curve of her mouth when she sneered at me, the sharpness of her words, each one meant to cut, to wound.

And then—

A flicker of something darker.

The memory of her voice, ragged and breathless, the sound of her moans—unbidden, invasive—seeped into my mind like poison.

Heat coiled low and sharp in my gut.

My pulse stuttered.

A violent shudder tore through me before I forced my muscles to still. My grip on the paper tightened, the edges biting into my skin.

No.

No.

This was the bond. The unnatural force twisting its claws into me. It was playing tricks. Distorting need into something more.

Misleading. Manipulative.

"I don’t love her," I snarled, voice low and venomous.