Hades' Cursed Luna - Chapter 115

Chapter 115: His Stubborn Caretaker
Hades

“I am not doing any training with you until you eat something,” she said with her arms folded, her brows drawn in a frown.

“It does not matter,” I ground out, looming over. “I am in perfect condition.”

She looked me up and down. “You look malnourished,” she countered.

I almost reeled back at her comment. My ears were ringing. “Malnourished?” I echoed in disbelief.

“You don’t fill in your workout clothes like you used to,” she remarked.

If not for my shock at the observation she had made about my body, I would have smirked at the fact that she just let it slip that she noticed my body. But she was not wrong. The Flux had that effect on my body, especially considering that it had come earlier than anticipated this time and that my appetite had disappeared days before its arrival. The Flux always left me weaker than usual, stripping away muscle mass and energy, though I’d never admit that out loud.

“You’re imagining things,” I finally muttered, crossing my arms to block her view of my chest.

She raised a brow, unimpressed by my attempt to dismiss her. “Imagining? Hades, I’ve been sparring with you for enough time. I know what you’re capable of. And I know when something’s off. You’re not hiding it from me. And I don’t even want to pry into what you are hiding. Like I said before, I will not do that. What I will not do is let you train me when you look seconds away from collapsing. Just eat something.”

I clenched my jaw, the ringing in my ears intensifying. It wasn’t just her words; it was the audacity. The nerve. The care. She didn’t realize that every question, every accusation, was grating at me in a way it should not have, especially with the upcoming result of the Lunar Sync Index test. If the world was still spinning in the right direction, the LSI test should come out negative, but I know what I fucking heard and…felt.

“This isn’t your concern,” I said, my voice low, laced with a warning. It would be better if she backed down and let us fall into the routine that we followed before and pretended like nothing had happened or—changed. But here she was acting like a worried, angry mother hen, and in a sick, almost endearing way, I was a stubborn chick.

She stepped closer, her face tilted up toward mine, a determined spark in her gaze. “It is my concern when you’re pushing yourself into the ground. You’re no good to anyone like this. Especially not to yourself.”

I inhaled sharply, my control fraying. “I said it doesn’t matter. Now drop it.”

“No.” Her tone was stable, and for a moment, I hated her for it. Hated that she could stand there, arms folded, unrelenting in her determination to challenge me, even when I towered over her, even when she knew how dangerous I could be. Even when she had been face to face with the corruption that tore through me and possessed me, she had neither run nor screamed. She stood toe to toe with it, ordering me to fight it. Why?

And if she was capable of being so hardheaded in that situation, how could I make her see reason now?

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I growled.

“And you don’t get to self-destruct while I stand by and watch,” she fired back. “Eat something, Hades. Or there’s no training.”

I stared at her, the weight of her words, her stubbornness, pressing against the ache in my chest. She wasn’t backing down, and part of me—damn it—part of me respected that.

“Fine,” I bit out, stepping back, though it felt like a concession of power. “But don’t expect me to finish it.”

Her lips quirked into a small, victorious smile, and I swore it was the most infuriatingly satisfying thing I’d seen all day.

“Good. I’ll bring something that even you can’t complain about,” she said, already out the door.

As she walked away, I rubbed a hand over my face. This wasn’t about the food. This wasn’t about the training. She was testing me, pushing against walls I’d built long before she came into my life.

And the worst part? She was winning.

—

I stared at her, her gaze laser-focused as I reluctantly ate. She had not been lying when she said she would bring something that I would not complain about. The food was annoyingly simple—a grilled steak paired with roasted sweet potatoes and steamed broccoli. No sauces, no excessive seasoning, just plain, functional fuel for my body. A glass of water sat beside it—no frills or indulgence.

It wasn’t anything I’d normally crave, but it was exactly what I needed. Begrudgingly, I picked up a fork and took a bite. And like I expected, it tasted like sawdust. The Flux had a way of stripping everything of flavor, leaving even the most well-prepared meals tasting bland and unappetizing. The Flux dulled more than just my senses—it drained my will, my focus, my strength. But I forced myself to chew, the weight of her gaze on me like an anchor.

Across from me, she sat with her arms still crossed, her expression unreadable. She wasn’t going to look away. She wasn’t going to let this go.

“It’s terrible,” I muttered after swallowing, stabbing the broccoli with my fork like it had personally offended me.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to admit you’re actually eating,” she said, her voice calm, almost soothing like she was talking to a child.

I narrowed my eyes at her, but she didn’t flinch. “You don’t need to watch me like a hawk. I’m eating, aren’t I?”

“I’m watching to make sure you finish,” she shot back. “You’ve gotten good at pretending you’re fine, but I’ve learned to spot the cracks, Hades. And skipping meals isn’t going to help whatever it is you’re dealing with.”

I stiffened at her words, a bitter laugh bubbling in my chest. “You think food is going to fix this? That it’ll fix me?” She was so naive. The Flux was not some fever. No, my father was far more cruel.

She leaned forward slightly, her voice softening. “No, I don’t. But it’s a start. And until you can face whatever’s breaking you apart, I’m going to make sure you don’t fall apart completely. Even if that means sitting here while you eat every last bite of this boring meal.”

Her honesty cut through the haze of my frustration. I didn’t know whether to be furious at her persistence or grateful for her stubborn care. Maybe both.

I picked up the glass of water, downing it in one long sip before setting it down with more force than necessary. “Fine,” I said, grabbing another piece of steak. “But don’t think this means you’ve won.”

Her lips quirked into the faintest smirk. “We’ll see.” Despite the triumph in her eyes, the shadows never faded. If I looked malnourished, she looked dead.

And as I continued to eat under her gaze, I couldn’t shake the strange, infuriating feeling that this was less about her winning and more about her refusing to let me lose.

She cares…for me.

I took one more bite, and bile quickly rose in my throat. I dropped the fork with a heavy clank and gagged. She sprang to her feet, and she was by my side. She rubbed slow circles on my back as I clutched my chest, an ache spreading.

“You are okay.”

“Yeah, right.”

She poured some more water from the jug for me to drink. This time, she did not give me the cup. She put it to my lips herself.

I opened my mouth just enough to take a sip, the cool water soothing my throat and calming the bile threatening to rise again.

“See? Not so hard,” she said softly, her voice a mix of relief and triumph.

I scowled, but the fire behind it was dim. “I could’ve done it myself.”

“Sure you could’ve,” she replied, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. She set the glass down on the table but stayed close, her hand lingering on my shoulder. “You’re stubborn, Hades, but so am I.”

“No kidding,” I muttered, leaning back against the chair and dragging a hand over my face. The ache in my chest persisted, but it wasn’t just physical. Her touch, gentle yet firm, lingered like a brand. It felt too close, too much. Why did it feel so right?

She stepped back slightly but didn’t sit down. “You’ve been pushing too hard. Even someone like you has limits. Now eat the rest.”

I scowled. “Not happening.”

“Hades…” she grumbled.

We stared each other down like that for what felt like an hour, but I was not budging. I crossed my arms over my chest and leveled her with a hard look. “What are you going to do now, Red?” I raised a brow. “Feed me?”

She let out an exasperated sigh, and to my shock, she grabbed the fork, picked up a piece of steak, and brought it to my mouth. “Choo, choo, here comes the train. Open up,” she said, her mouth curling into a mocking smirk.