Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 383

Chapter 383: Compulsion

Eve

Silence followed her last words.

They hung in the air like smoke—heavy, clinging, choking.

Montegue’s hand remained frozen near her cheek, as if his mind couldn’t quite catch up with what she’d just said.

"My daughter works for the enemy."

Then Lucinda started shaking.

At first, it was her hands. A light tremor. Almost subtle.

But then her whole body followed.

Her mouth opened as if to say more, but nothing came out. Her eyes unfocused, staring past us at something we couldn’t see. That blank look, that eerie stillness—it hit me in the gut like a stone.

"Lucinda?" I tried, shifting Elliot slightly to step closer.

Her jaw tightened.

"Lucinda, look at me. What happened when you visited Felicia? What did she say? What did she do?"

She blinked once. And then again, slower this time.

Her lips moved, but no sound escaped.

Montegue crouched beside her. "Luci," he said softly, using the nickname that cracked something tender behind his voice. "Please—"

Suddenly, a thin stream of red began to drip from the corner of her mouth.

Montegue flinched, pulling back slightly. "What...?"

More blood.

It slipped past her lips and ran down her chin.

I stepped forward instantly, my heart leaping into my throat. "Monte—"

"Oh gods," he breathed. "She’s biting her tongue."

"What?"

"She’s trying to stop herself from talking—she’s severing it."

He turned sharply. "MEDICS! NOW!"

Lucinda’s body jolted as he reached to steady her. Her eyes were still open, still far away, like she was watching something from deep inside a well she couldn’t climb out of.

Her limbs convulsed, hands twitching violently as blood poured more freely now.

"No no no—Lucinda, stop! You don’t have to say anything! Please," Montegue pleaded, his voice cracking, panic rising.

I handed Elliot to one of the guards without thinking. "Hold him. Keep him calm."

I knelt and placed my hands over Lucinda’s arms, trying to restrain her gently. She thrashed under our hold with surprising strength. Her mouth was clenched shut, locked tight as more blood bubbled between her lips.

"She’s under compulsion," Rhea hissed in my mind.

Montegue swore under his breath, cradling the back of Lucinda’s head while blood soaked through his gloves.

The doors burst open and two medics stormed in, each with a kit in hand. One quickly assessed, the other moved straight to sedate.

"Now!" Montegue shouted.

The needle pierced her arm, and slowly, agonizingly, her body stopped resisting. Her jaw loosened. The tremors subsided.

Her eyelids fluttered, her gaze clearing for just a moment. And in that moment, she looked at me.

Terrified.

And then she mouthed, soundlessly:

"Sorry."

And slipped under.

As the medics pulled her onto a stretcher, it struck me then—I had seen this before. At least a version of it.

Yes, the scene played out in front of me like it had more than two months ago.

When I had mentioned the prophecy being a lie—the way he abruptly got up and tried to speak, panicked and desperate, before she suddenly went silent—like Lucinda did before she...

It was the same thing.

"Do you think?" Rhea muttered in my mind.

She was...

I got up, running for the stretcher that was already being wheeled down the hallway.

"Wait!" I called, my voice ringing through the corridor.

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