Hades' Cursed Luna - Chapter 125

Chapter 125: His Wife’s Choice
Eve

I smoothed my dress, not because I cared what Hades thought, but because the guards stationed outside his estate watched my every move with hawk-like intensity.

When the car door swung open, I half-expected one of them to escort me inside.

Instead, he was waiting.

Hades sat in the back seat, one arm resting lazily along the headrest, his silver eyes already on me. His presence filled the space, coiled and ready to snap and for a second, I hesitated.

I hid it quickly, stepping forward. “I thought you’d back out and ask for a rematch.”

His jaw flexed at the words. “I’m a man of my word.” His voice was clipped, and if the tension in his shoulders said anything, it was that he deeply regretted that fact.

I slid into the seat beside him, letting the door click shut. “Relax, your majesty. You almost look constipated.”

His head turned toward me with slow, deliberate. I guess he was trying to be as intimidating as he much as he could no longer manage the feat.

The glare he fixed on me could have stopped a charging wolf in their tracks.

“If I were you,” he said in a voice low enough to be dangerous, “I’d choose the onesie carefully. Because the second this week is over—”

I leaned closer, cutting him off with a grin. “I know. War.”

His eyes didn’t leave mine as I entered and took a seat, far, far from him. It was a big car after all.

The tension in the car thickened, stretching out between us like a live wire.

Hades didn’t say anything else, but his gaze lingered—too heavy, too sharp. I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, like he was peeling back layers I hadn’t realized I was wearing.

I shifted slightly, leaning into the corner of the seat to put more space between us. His eyes followed the movement, but he didn’t comment.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, but it buzzed—something unspoken simmering beneath the surface, coiling tighter with every second that passed.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “You’re awfully quiet for someone about to be draped in glitter and rainbows.”

His hand twitched against his knee. “I’m mentally preparing.”

“For what? The emotional damage?” I teased.

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “For surviving the next seven nights with my pride intact.”

I smirked. “I hate to break it to you, but pride’s the first thing you’re losing.”

His silver gaze flicked to me, and even in the dim light of the car, I could see the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Keep talking, Red. You’ll be the next one in a onesie.”

I raised a brow. “I look great in pastels. You, on the other hand…” I let the words trail off, biting back a grin.

He didn’t rise to the bait this time, but the smirk he gave me in return was pure arrogance. “I am sure you do,” his eyes gazed my body and I squirmed. And by the way his smirk widened, that was exactly what he had wanted.

The rest of the ride passed in tense silence, interrupted only by the hum of the tires against the road. Every time I shifted, his gaze flicked in my direction. Subtle. Calculated. Did he think I was going to run or something?

By the time the car slowed to a stop, I was practically itching to get out.

The door opened, and I stepped onto the sidewalk, blinking at the boutique in front of me.

It was empty.

Not just quiet—completely deserted. The large glass windows reflected only the soft glow of the street lamps, and the inside lights bathed the empty space in warm tones.

I crossed my arms. “Let me guess. You booked the whole place out.”

Hades stepped up beside me, hands sliding into his pockets as he surveyed the building with a bored expression. “Naturally.”

I shook my head, lips twitching. “Of course you did.”

The last time he pulled this stunt, he’d emptied out an entire gallery just so we could wander the exhibits alone. Now, I couldn’t tell if it was arrogance or his personal brand of mischief at work. But I had to admit that I welcomed it. I could not imagine shipping along other Lycans. It was unnerving and I was not sure if I would ever get over the feeling.

A security guard inside unlocked the door, stepping aside to let us through.

I glanced at Hades as I walked in, the warmth of the boutique wrapping around me. “You do realize this is overkill, right?”

His gaze swept lazily over the racks of clothes, the soft mannequins positioned like silent sentinels. “I disagree. The fewer witnesses, the better.”

“You’re that embarrassed?” I teased, nudging him lightly with my elbow.

His hand brushed the small of my back as he guided me further inside, his touch brief but lingering long enough to make my breath catch.

“Not embarrassed.” His voice dropped, soft enough that I almost thought I imagined it. “I just prefer keeping things… intimate.”

I ignored the innuendo and looked around. My head buzzed with excited as memories flashed in my head like lightning, sharp enough to leave an after image. I saw Ellen, my mother and I walking until a boutique just weeks before our 18th birthday fiasco. We had been there to pick out dresses for the event and of course among other things.

The sounds of their voices resonated in my head, sweet but haunting. My throat tightened with emotions that I tried to shake away. That had been the last time that I had been in an establishment like this in over five years. It was surreal, nostalgic but painful. I bit my quivering bottom lip as I tried to hold back the tears that suddenly threatened to spill.

A heavy hand grasped my shoulder and I startled at the sound of Hades’ voice. He nodded toward the far wall. “There. That looks ridiculous enough for you.”

I turned—and there it was.

Hanging proudly on display was the onesie.

Pink, fluffy, and decorated with stars that shimmered obnoxiously under the light. The horn was golden and glittery, standing tall in the center of the hood like a beacon of pure cuteness but on the King of Obsidan it would be one of unfiltered humiliation.

I clapped a hand over my mouth to stop the laugh threatening to escape.

Hades crossed his arms, eyeing it like it might attack him. “Go on. Pick it.”

I grinned. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we should keep looking. See if there’s one with wings.”

His gaze slid to mine, narrowing slightly. “Choose, Red. Or I will.”

I smirked, stepping toward the onesie. “Fine. But this is just one. We need a new one for every day of the seven days.” When his jaw locked, I laughed. “A whole king can’t be repeating outfits. It’s atrocious.” I grumbled teasingly.

“Do what you want.” He snarled.

I only smiled..I wandered deeper into the boutique, letting my fingers drift lightly over the fabrics as I walked. The quiet hum of the space, coupled with the soft glow of overhead lights, made the place feel distant—like I’d stepped out of time.

Hades trailed a few paces behind, his presence unmistakable even when he wasn’t speaking. I could feel the weight of his gaze on my back, but for once, he didn’t push or prod. Maybe he sensed something in the way my shoulders tensed. Or maybe he was just brooding silently the way he always did.

The boutique smelled faintly of lavender and something floral—something familiar.

It hit me like a freight train.

The last time I’d stood in a place like this, Ellen had been twirling in front of a mirror, her long hair cascading down her back as our mother laughed. I’d been standing off to the side, wearing a ridiculous tiara she insisted I try on, scowling at how the rhinestones pinched my scalp.

The memory made my throat close up.

I forced a breath through my nose, blinking rapidly as I brushed past a row of delicate dresses. They swayed gently as I passed, the movement almost enough to make me believe I wasn’t completely alone.

“See anything else that would ruin my reputation?” Hades’ voice, low and rough, cut through the fog in my head.

I smirked, thankful for the distraction. “Not yet. But don’t worry, I’m thorough.”

I kept searching, running my hand along the clothing racks as I pretended I wasn’t unraveling at the seams.

It wasn’t until I turned the corner, reaching the farthest wall of the boutique, that I stopped cold.

Hanging innocently on the rack was the onesie.

If the first one was ridiculous, this was on an entirely different level.

It was as if a unicorn had violently exploded over the fabric. Bright, swirling colors—pink, blue, purple—blended together in a chaotic mess of glittery stars and rainbows. The mane along the hood was fluffier, almost obnoxiously so, and the horn spiraled higher than the last.

But that wasn’t why I stopped.