Hades' Cursed Luna - Chapter 157

Chapter 157: The Girl In The Coffin
Hades

Jules’ shoulders slumped after the video cut to black. “Ellen did that. She said those things,” she whispered. She seemed hollowed out by what she had seen. It was no surprise, to be honest. Who would have thought that the same Ellen who could forgive her kidnappers was capable of doing and spewing such things?

But I knew dissociation when I saw it. It was in the emptiness in her eyes as she smiled. There had been no joy, no triumph, only some sort of undeniable finality. It was like she removed herself from the scene—the place, the time, the event.

Yes, there were some inconsistencies with Ellen and her behavior. A story behind the woman who unloaded bullets into her sister that day. A tale behind the woman she was now, but it was logical that Ellen was the one I had in my possession. There was simply no other explanation as to how only she was immune to the electromagnetic effect of the Bloodmoon or how she possessed the elusive Fenrir’s marker.

Eve was dead because I saw her die with my own two eyes. I saw the cursed twin shift—a werewolf morph into a Lycan as the prophecy had foretold. It could not be feigned or faked; it was simply impossible.

There was no way to make a werewolf shift into a Lycan. If it were possible, Silverpine would have used that to create an immense number of mutated werewolf-turned-Lycan to win this century-long war against us. But no such army existed, and no such method had ever been discovered. Eve was gone, and Ellen was all that remained. I had the blessed twin, and that was all that mattered.

“Maybe…maybe…maybe,” Jules muttered softly.

My gaze shifted to her to see that she was speaking more to herself than to me. I quirked a curious brow as I watched her.

Her eyes seemed distant, staring somewhere far off. Her mouth was moving.

“She is Ellen…but…she is not,” she whispered. “Maybe…maybe…she is like,” she swallowed, her eyes widening like the final piece of the puzzle had just clicked into place. “She’s like me.” She murmured, her voice almost completely inaudible. She was babbling to herself.

I recalled what Kael had said after she disparaged Eve. “Something is not right with that woman.”

My eyes narrowed at her as she continued to make some calculations in her mind, her brows furrowing as if something was just making sense to her.

There were little moments, I recalled, when she seemed to slip. I knew pretense—in any royal court, it was an essential skill. But Jules’ slips were not the kind born of deceit or strategy. They were fractures, splinters of something deeper breaking through the surface. Moments where her mask cracked. Sometimes what lay beneath was bright; other times, it was dark.

I recalled her so-called accident when she hurt Ellen’s shoulder. When I replayed the feed, one moment her smile reached her eyes, and the next, an insidious shadow crossed her face—so fleeting that I almost did not catch it. I recognized that shadow because I had come face-to-face with something as sinister before.

But what was strange was how she snapped back from the darkness-filled daze she had been in before. Her shock at what she had done was real; I knew that her regret was not an act. I would know. It seemed she had not healed from the abuse as much as I thought. She would require a re-evaluation.

Removing Jules should have been instant when I saw her slip, but destabilizing Ellen further would have been counterproductive. Ellen would have further seen it as me punishing Jules, even when I promised not to.

Now, I was so close to the missing piece of the puzzle since that fateful night that my father had taken me blindfolded from my room—the night that Ellen and Eve were born. I was so close, and now Jules had to go. Enough time had passed.

“Jules,” I called, my voice firm.

She visibly startled at my voice like she had forgotten I was there.

“Your work is done,” I told her. “I will no longer require your services.”

The distant look in her eyes faded in an instant. She blinked. “What?”

“You cease to be a spy for me from now on,” I doubled down. “Your work is done.”

For a moment, she was as frozen as a statue, her skin paling like she had just seen a ghost.

Her lips parted, but no words came out. Jules just stared at me, her expression caught between disbelief and rising panic.

“You can’t just—” she finally stammered, taking a shaky step forward. “No, wait. You can’t do this. Not now.”

I tilted my head, watching her unravel. “I can. And I have.” My voice was as cold and immovable as stone.

“But I—” Her fists clenched at her sides, trembling. “You need me. You said it yourself. I’m the only one Ellen trusts, the only one who can get close to her!”

“And you’ve served your purpose.” I allowed a slow, deliberate pause. “Ellen will survive without you. Whether she trusts you or not no longer concerns me.”

Her breath quickened, chest rising and falling like a cornered animal. “No, no. You don’t understand. There’s more. I know there’s more. You’re missing something, and I can help you figure it out!” Her voice cracked, desperate.

I stared at her, silent. Calculating. Watching how quickly desperation stripped her down to something raw and frantic.

“You said it yourself!” she pressed on, her voice bordering on a plea. “There’s something wrong with Ellen. She’s not who she’s supposed to be. You think I haven’t noticed that? That I haven’t been paying attention? I can help you!”

I didn’t move. Let her squirm. I had been lenient for one second, and now this.

She took another step, more cautious now. Her voice dropped to a near-whisper, trembling but deliberate. “If you let me go now, you’ll never know. You’ll never find out what she is. You saved me,” her lips trembled. “You killed that monster for what he did to me. I can’t fail you.”

I sighed deeply, letting water wash over the flames that were stoking in my chest. “Jules…”

The pain in her eyes was familiar. Hauntingly familiar to that hopelessness in her gaze the day that I had opened the coffin to rescue her. She was almost that girl again, afraid of sound and light. This time she was afraid of disappointing me. One fear to another, it seemed.

I watched her carefully, the way her shoulders trembled beneath the weight of my words.

Her breath was ragged, her eyes glassy with the kind of fear that sinks deep into bone.

And still, she stood.

I let the silence stretch, let it press in on her until she was forced to carry it.

But I didn’t look away.

“Jules,” I said at last, quieter now, but no less firm.

Her head snapped up, eyes wide, searching for any sliver of mercy.

“I didn’t save you because I pitied you. I saved you because you were useful. Because you had the potential to be more than what they made you.” I remembered the gallows. The one for slave girls like her. I recalled the countless bodies of children taken as tribute to the quadrant. She was one of the few that dared to live, dared to see their oppressor get executed.

She flinched, but I didn’t soften the truth.

“And now, you will need to find a purpose without me. Beyond me.”

Her breath caught in her throat, but I pressed on.

“You cannot cling to me like a crutch. You want to be strong? Then stand on your own.”

I let that settle before I spoke again, my voice low but steady.

“I know what it means to have everything stripped away. To be left hollow, wondering why you’re still breathing.” My jaw tensed briefly.

Her eyes flickered, unsure if she was allowed to ask.

Jules swallowed hard, her fists still clenched at her sides. I could see the words forming behind her lips, the desperate attempt to hold on to something already slipping through her fingers.

“Your Majesty,” she began, her voice steadier than before but still thin with desperation, “I can still—”

“It’s final.”

The words cut through the air, quiet but absolute.

Her mouth snapped shut, and for a moment, silence reigned.

“Go,” I commanded, the word heavy with finality.

Then the door slammed open, and in came Kael with a hopeful expression on his face. “The LSI test results are out.”

I turned to him, surprise flaring in my chest.

That was fast.

Pleasantly so.

I had expected delays, excuses—science often moved at a crawl when it came to matters of blood and mates. But this… this was efficient.

A rare thing. Was it a good or bad sign?

“Impressive,” I murmured, eyeing the sealed envelope in Kael’s hands. “I assume the results are conclusive?”

Kael gave a sharp nod. “Yes, Your Majesty. The analysis was prioritized given the anomalies. They insisted it was urgent.”

Urgent. That piqued my interest, my pulse thrumming at the word alone.

But before I could reach for the envelope, something caught my eye.

Jules.

Her gaze was fixed on the envelope in Kael’s grip.