Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 358

Chapter 358: Truth, Unfiltered

Hades

The marble beneath our feet echoed every step like a countdown. Six hours had passed—barely enough time to prep the security detail, summon the press, and drag the Tower into damage control mode. And now, the moment had arrived.

Eve stood beside me, arms crossed as Lucinda offered her the final option: a makeup brush.

She didn’t even glance at it. "No."

Lucinda blinked. "You’re sure?"

Eve’s jaw was set. "Yes. If I show up airbrushed and contoured while people think we’ve been poisoning their bloodlines, they’ll assume I’ve been coached. Polished. Fake."

Kael’s voice cut through the comms. "Cameras are rolling in the adjoining chamber. They’re waiting.

But he did not need to announce it. The clamouring of the reporters buzzed like a vibration through my skin.

Lucinda hesitated. "But just a touch of concealer—"

"I want them to see my fatigue," Eve said. "The scars. The weight. I’m not here to be worshipped."

She turned to me, her profile sharp in the cold tower lighting. "We don’t win this with perfection, Hades. You understand that, right. They want the reality, we give them what they want."

I nodded, though a part of me hated it. Hated that she was right. Hated that I couldn’t protect her from what came next. But it made perfect sense to let her be formally introduced this way.

The doors leading into the main mall were closed for now. Just behind them, the clamor of journalists, flashing cameras, and whispered conspiracies buzzed like hornets against the glass.

The same hall we had stood in before.

Where she’d pressed her lips to mine, not out of love, but to deliver the poison. It felt like a life time ago. I glanced at her to see she looked momentarily lost, staring up at space. Her foot nervously tapping like they had been since we got here.

I shifted my weight, arms folding behind my back.

"You remember?" I asked quietly.

Eve looked up at me, confusion marring her face. "What are you talking about?" Suspicion seeping into her tone, anticipating what would come next, courtesy of the joke I had mace the previous night to ease her anxiety.

"That kiss nearly killed me."

Her lip twitched, realization filling her expression. "Only nearly."

I looked away before the ache could do more than pulse. She’d kissed me to hurt me. And now she’d speak for me to save me.

No script. No spin.

Just truth.

Montegue approached, adjusting the cuffs of his coat. "Press is ready. They’re foaming for it. Just say the word."

Eve turned to face me fully. Her turquoise eyes held something neither of us could name anymore—mutual devastation, maybe. Maybe something more.

"You don’t have to walk in with me," she murmured.

"I know," I said. "But I will."

The guards at the double doors nodded once, awaiting our cue.

Kael’s voice came over the line again. "Three minutes. You’re clear."

Eve’s fingers brushed the front of her coat. No armor. No symbol. No crown.

Just the cursed twin the world wanted answers from.

I leaned in slightly. "You don’t owe them anything."

"I know," she whispered.

The doors groaned open.

A wave of camera flashes erupted like a second sunrise. Reporters surged forward, restrained only by the black line of Gammas stationed like statues.

Eve stepped forward. I followed.

The cursed twin walks into the fire.

And the king follows the woman who once poisoned him.

---

Eve

The lights hit like knives—bright, sharp, unforgiving. They washed over me in a flood, reflecting off the marble floors and the chrome podium ahead. The cameras didn’t pause. Neither did the flashes. But the noise—that died instantly.

No shouting.

No questions.

No movement.

Just... silence.

Like the room had sucked in a collective breath and forgot how to release it.

Dozens of reporters, officials, recorders in hand and mouths open mid-sentence, simply froze. I could see the whites of their eyes, wide, stunned, as if I’d walked out of a tomb instead of a hallway.

And maybe I had.

I didn’t falter. I walked forward.

But I felt their stares as something almost physical. The weight of a thousand questions barely restrained by politeness. By shock. By fear.

I took my seat at the center table. One spotlight burned over me. Another, beside it, on the empty chair Hades would take.

I heard him before I saw him—boots slow and firm. He slid into the seat beside me, his hand finding mine beneath the table. His thumb pressed once against the inside of my wrist. A grounding gesture. A silent I’m here.

But the stillness didn’t last.

A murmur began. Low. Then rippling.

"Is that really her—?"

"That’s the cursed twin—"

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify