Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 178

Hades

Long after Amelia was gone, my mind was still whirling with all that had been discussed. Every thought and stake seemed to strangle me, and I was finding it hard to inhale.

I clutched my chest, the truth and choices pouring cold water over me.

A chill licked up my spine as I clutched my head, staring off into space.

This couldn’t be happening. This was the worst thing that could possibly happen. I was being drawn in multiple different directions, left torn between duty and desire, between what was right and what was necessary.

I let out a ragged breath, my pulse hammering, the Flux gnawing at my insides like a starved beast. It didn’t care for my hesitation. It only knew one truth—Ellen was slipping, and it would do anything to keep her from being lost.

I stared at my hands, flexing my fingers, watching the way the veins pulsed beneath my skin. They had held her together, had soothed her when the nightmares clawed through her mind, had wiped away the silent tears she didn’t think I noticed.

And yet, for all my efforts, for all the ways I’d tried to shield her, I was failing.

I could lose her.

The thought wrapped around my throat like a vise, strangling the breath from my lungs. It was unbearable, inconceivable. A nightmare worse than any I had ever known.

I pressed a trembling hand to my temple, willing my mind to clear, to focus.

Options. I needed options.

I couldn’t sever the last fragile link she had to her wolf. That would be irreversible.

I couldn’t let her hollowing continue, not when I could see the toll it was taking on her, not when every day she looked more and more like a ghost trapped in a body that wasn’t entirely hers.

And I couldn’t—fuck, I couldn’t force the bond.

But what if she wanted it?

The thought sent a shudder through me.

I shook my head, forcing myself to pace the length of my office. It was reckless to even consider. She was vulnerable, fragile. If I so much as nudged her toward the bond, how could I ever be sure it was truly her choosing it and not her desperation for something—anything—to hold onto?

I needed her wolf.

Not for the pack.

Not for some grand plan.

But because, without it, she would break. What if she was kidnapped, tortured? What if she was pulled down into the abyss by yet another harrowing incident?

How much longer would the drugs work before she became just a vessel?

The fact that she had survived the hollowing had been a miracle on its own, but now she was a building with no proper foundation. Even without being bulldozed by another trauma, she was falling apart.

The drugs would not be a permanent solution. They would simply be slowing down the inevitable.

I gritted my teeth, frustration curling through me like smoke.

There had to be another way.

I needed to reach her, to remind her who she was, to pull her back from the edge before it was too late.

And maybe—just maybe—if she chose me, if she wanted to complete the bond of her own free will, it wouldn’t feel like a sin.

I stopped pacing, inhaling sharply.

That was it.

She had to choose.

I couldn’t force the bond.

But I could make her want it.

I turned toward the door, the decision solidifying in my chest.

I would remind her who she was. I would give her something to hold onto.

And I would make damn sure she chose to stay.

Even if it meant offering her every piece of myself in return.

Even if it meant surrendering in ways I never had before.

I was not yet fully sure how I would do it but she needed me and I knew it. If it was to be with her every waking second I would. I would give myself in every way I could.

These were the ramblings of a delusional, desperate man and I knew it but I found myself getting pulled back to her.

She need me.

You need her.

I exhaled slowly, the weight of it all pressing against my ribs.

I opened the door, only to freeze when I came face to face with Montegue.

I blinked, taken aback by the fact that he was here at this time. He was never here unless there was a compulsory meeting with the council or a new revelation.

"Ambassador," I murmured, my voice hoarse from screaming at Amelia. I could not even recognize it.

He looked down. "I feel sorry for the werewolf princess. It’s a pity." His voice was soft, but when he raised his eyes, they were intense. "It seems the mate bond is really at work here," he said, watching me carefully. "You’re unraveling just as much as she is."

I stiffened.

Montegue was perceptive—always had been. But the way he said it, the quiet certainty in his tone, made something inside me coil tight.

"I’m not unraveling," I said, my voice flat.

Montegue gave me a look that told me he didn’t believe a damn word of it.

I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face. "This isn’t about the mate bond."

He hummed, unconvinced. "Isn’t it?"

I scowled. "This is about…" Her.

How could I say that to Danielle’s father? I wasn’t even ready to admit it fully to myself.

His lips twitched, almost like he wanted to either grimace or smirk—or maybe both. "And yet, here you are. Neglecting everything else. Pacing like a caged animal. Torn between choices you would have never hesitated to make before."

I ground my teeth together. "If you came here just to lecture me—"

He cut me off with a shrug. "I did not come here for that. I am just voicing my observation. I came here to tell you that I did not only hide where I kept Danielle from you."

My pulse hammered as I straightened my spine. "What else is there, Ambassador?"

"You know I took over Danielle’s autopsy?"

"How could I forget?" Green bitterness blossomed on my tongue. He was her father, and he had made me forfeit control over her body, taking the final say over what was to be done. I had relinquished control, partly out of respect, partly because I knew I had no right to demand otherwise.

Montegue nodded, as if reading my thoughts. "Then you also know that I had access to the full report. Every detail." His voice was steady, but there was something in his expression—something tight, unreadable.

My stomach twisted. "Why are you bringing this up now?"

Montegue exhaled, his fingers curling at his sides. "Because there was something on her body, Hades."

Thick, suffocating silence wrapped around us.

"What?"

"It was blood. When it was tested, it was neither Lycan nor werewolf. It was something mutated. It was blood that belonged to something—an entity truly arcane. Something that shouldn’t exist."

"It was the blood of—"

"The Beast of the Night."