Hades' Cursed Luna - Chapter 153

Chapter 153: The Execution
Hades

I gritted my teeth as I forced the Flux to retreat. This was the last place to let the corruption creep. I kept my gaze forward, my jaw clenched as I walked among the slow inflow of werewolves.

Citizens were not allowed to bring in their vehicles, but in another area of the large historical landmark, ambassadors, governors, lower Alphas, and other high-ranking pack citizens made their appearances, stepping out of limousines and aircraft.

On another side, already seated, was the press. Each station was ready with their gear, journalists prepared, their backs straight and their eyes alert and hungry for a story.

The sea of people was guided to the outer courtyard, corralled behind high steel barricades that created a controlled funnel leading toward the execution platform. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter, their eyes sharp beneath the visors of their tactical helmets. The glint of sniper scopes from the rooftops tracked any movement that lingered too long, ready to neutralize any perceived threat. Their platinum bullets could not subdue me, but it was better not to be sorry.

The courtyard of Old Valmont Castle was a brutal clash of past and present. The ancient stone walls loomed overhead, scarred by time and war, while massive LED screens flickered to life, broadcasting the event to every corner of Silverpine. High above the platform, sleek black drones hovered, their red recording lights blinking steadily.

At the far end of the execution ground, a raised stage had been erected—a cold, modern structure of steel and glass in stark contrast to the weathered stone beneath it. The platform was minimalistic, designed for full visibility. No shadows to hide in. No mercy to offer.

At the center of that stage stood Eve Valmont.

Bound in reinforced steel restraints that chained her wrists and ankles, she was forced to kneel on the execution dais. A cold, sterile spotlight bathed her in harsh white light, casting a long, thin shadow behind her. Her once-pristine royal garb had been replaced with a plain, dark prison uniform. Blood stained the fabric at her collar and cuffs, a sign of the beatings that came before this day.

She bowed her head low.

A hush rippled through the crowd as the castle gates finally groaned closed.

The cameras all pivoted in unison, focusing on the polished steps of the main balcony.

Alpha Darius Valmont emerged.

He wore a sleek, custom-tailored black suit, every inch of him styled for control. A crimson handkerchief folded neatly in his pocket was the only color against the monochrome. His pale red hair, streaked with silver, was slicked back, and a single black ring glinted on his finger.

Two royal guards flanked him, their eyes hard, ready for any slight misstep.

Alpha Darius stepped forward to the edge of the balcony, the massive emblem of the Valmont family crest gleaming behind him. He waited until the murmurs of the crowd died away, until even the air seemed to hold its breath.

Then he spoke, his voice cutting through the cold air.

“Citizens of Silverpine. Loyal subjects of this pack.”

Every speaker, every screen, every device carried his voice. Its echo vibrated in every bone.

“Today, we gather not in joy but in solemn duty. This is not a celebration. It is a necessary act to protect our future.”

A low murmur rippled through the masses. The cameras captured every angle, every detail.

“Eve Valmont. Once a daughter of this royal house. Once a promise to this nation. An heir.” His tone hardened. “But promises can be broken. And trust, once shattered, cannot be repaired.”

He turned slightly, gesturing to Eve without sparing her a glance.

“You see before you not a victim. Not a misguided soul. But a threat to everything we have built. The cursed twin. The harbinger of ruin. The one foretold to bring destruction upon our people.”

The words poured out of him, every person at attention.

“Her crimes are not rumors. Not myths. They are fact. She has betrayed her blood, her kingdom, and the very laws that keep us safe.”

On the towering screens, violent images flickered—security footage from her shift just a few days ago, chaotic flashes of torn bodies, crumbling walls.

“She has chosen chaos over order. Darkness over duty. And for this, she must pay the ultimate price.”

Alpha Darius paused, allowing his words to settle over the crowd like a heavy shroud.

“We do this not out of hatred. Not out of fear. But out of necessity.”

His voice grew colder, sharper.

“Today, the curse ends. And Silverpine will rise stronger. And this will be done by our new heir. The blessed twin.”

Ellen Valmont made an appearance, dressed in a military uniform of white and gold, a firearm in her possession. Her red hair was pulled into a severe bun. Her features were taut, and her movements mechanical.

A beat of silence. The large crowd broke into a solemn applause, echoing across the entire courtyard.

“Begin.”

Ellen Valmont stepped forward, her white and gold military uniform pristine, the firearm in her gloved hands gleaming. Her expression was void of emotion, eyes cold and distant as she approached the edge of the platform. The applause from the crowd faded into a suffocating silence, all eyes locked on the two sisters.

Eve slowly lifted her head, bloodied and pale, her eyes locking onto Ellen’s. There was no fear, her expression was blank as though she was not fully there.

Ellen raised the gun.

No hesitation.

A single, deafening gunshot tore through the air.

Eve’s body jerked violently as the platinum bullet glinted before embedding itself in her head.

Gasps tore out from some; others simply had no reaction. And then…

Silence.

Then Eve collapsed, the bounds clanking as her body slumped to the cold steel platform.

The LED screens zoomed in, broadcasting the lifeless body of the cursed twin. Blood slowly pooled beneath her head, her mouth hanging open, her eyes anything but shut. They were widened in horror and bloodshot.

Alpha Darius stood motionless on the balcony, his expression unreadable.

Ellen lowered the gun slowly, her face impassive, though her hand trembled just once—so slightly it went unnoticed.