Hades' Cursed Luna novel Chapter 417

Chapter 417: To Crimson

Eve

For a moment, no one dared to move. My arm around Elliot tightened, and he snuggled closer, detecting the tension the air was now wrought with. This was an entirely new kind of tension; before, it had been like a candle melting to the end of its wick while we searched for clues with whatever light we had left. Now, it was the chilling tick of a bomb above us.

"Retrieve it," Montegue ordered one of the Gammas, who were still stunned into silence like the rest of us. "Now."

They obeyed. One stepped forward, shifting swiftly. His wolf leapt up and swatted the envelope down with a large paw.

I caught it midair, waiting for Montegue to step in beside me as I tore open the crimson parchment, my hands surprisingly steady.

The envelope was still heavy as I retrieved the first item my fingers touched: a letter.

I calmed my raging heart, steeling myself against the nausea from the dread.

Flipping open the folded sheet, I spread it out for us to read.

At first the words were jumbled, blurred, almost unwilling to reveal themselves—then they sharpened.

"My Lovely Crimson," it began. My dread fizzled into disdain; I knew exactly who had written it.

My jaw clenched as my eyes flicked left to right, reading James’s venom.

"I know it must come as a surprise, especially after our little spat—five or, I don’t know, six years ago? We never really got to talk about it. I know it’s late, but is it ever really too late to get some much-deserved closure?"

My grip on the paper hardened, vitriol flooding my veins.

"I know my decision still weighs heavily on that beautiful mind of yours. Yet it still hurts that you decided our enemy would be the one to replace me in your heart. Your father was none too pleased by that. Crimson, you were always mine. Even when you lay beside him, you were mine."

I wanted to gag.

Even through the flourishes and curves of his writing, I could hear the smugness—the hidden cruelty laced between every word.

"It was for the good of not just Silverpine Pack but the werewolf race as a whole—or at least the worthy ones. Every action, though cruel, has been carefully thought out and has gone smoothly according to plan. Though I cannot divulge all the riveting details—you being a traitor now and all."

I bit back the urge to call him every slur that seared through my mind. That was the last thing my son needed to hear.

"But it would seem that you have truly become an obstacle in our course."

I could almost imagine him pressing harder with his pen here, the ink darker, the letters gouged deeper.

"Even more than your so-called ’pack’ already was. I won’t lie—I never thought you capable. Hollowed, useless... who would have believed you’d become such a thorn in our side? You managed to make that hybrid scum fall for you. You stood before his people holding his hand. You fought us back even when I told you his real plans. You let our little spy, Felicia Montegue, be uncovered—by manipulating her child, no less.

You should have come back begging for a place with us, especially since, during our last visit, we emphasized you could always return home. Yet you remain stubborn. And the next thing—you’re confessing your identity before his people.

You foiled our plans. You interfered with our hold on Ellen and even helped her escape, keeping her from us. All this before the war itself. I have to applaud you."

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