08|Strip.

HADES POV

I rushed through the corridor, the sound of my footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. The air was suffocating, it felt like I was drowning. I couldn't breathe but I couldn't stop. I had to get to them—had to reach them before it was too late.

As I ran, the air was thick with tension, heavy with the scent of something darker—blood. Lifeless bodies laid sprawled across the ground, ruined, mutilated and broken— left forever in the cold embrace of death.

It was a sight that would leave even the goddess in tears.

“Prince!” As I turned the corner, the warriors

followed closely behind, urging me to turn back, that it was too dangerous but I didn't stop, I couldn't.

“Please…” I silently begged as I stopped at the grand doors of the throne room. Blood splattered on the door and my heart lurched in my chest at the sight.

I hesitated.

It was a brief moment but I hesitated as I stood frozen in place. I couldn't bring myself to do it, I didn't want to open that door because deep down I knew what I was going to see.

Before I knew it, my hand swung open the bloody doors and I was met with the sight that had my whole world crashing in an instant.

There they were.

My father lay sprawled on the floor, hands clutched to his chest and face twisted in agony. Blood soaked his robes, spreading around him and staining the marble floor. I couldn’t... I couldn’t breathe. My legs felt like they would give out beneath me as I stared at him, at the lifeless body of the man who had always been so strong, so untouchable.

Beside him was my mother. Eyes wide in frozen terror, her hand outstretched toward him, but unable to reach. Dried tears stained her cheeks, her hands just a few meters from him. Her chest was still, no rise and fall of breath. The warmth that had once been there was gone, replaced by a coldness that seeped into my very soul.

I couldn’t move. My feet were cemented to the floor, my body trembling, every ounce of my being screaming in denial. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

“No, no… this isn't real” The first tear fell and before my brain could react, my body had forced itself to rush to them. “This… this isn't real. Please wake up… dad, mom” More tears began to fall as I called out to them but they… they didn't move.

Their bodies were cold– too cold and lifeless.

My throat burned as I screamed, holding onto them. I pleaded, I yelled and I prayed but all I heard was broken silence. Silence that seemed too antagonizing, it drove me insane. And then, I heard it again—the pounding. It was in my chest, my head, as though my heart itself was being torn apart.

Suddenly, everything went dark as a dagger plunged deep into my chest.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. The study was quiet, save for the steady ticking of the clock. Frowning, I closed my eyes back and rubbed my temples, trying to alleviate the throbbing in my head.

8 pm. I groaned and strengthened myself up from the chair. I must have fallen asleep without realizing it, it's been weeks since I slept for this long and I didn't like it. I despised sleeping, because when I do, the dreams come haunting me.

Normally, when I do have to sleep, I sleep for two or three hours but today, today was different.

I stood up and grabbed my coat, ignoring the stacks of documents on the desk. I wasn't in the mood to work so I walked out of the study, walking with a destination in mind.

“Get her cleaned up, and give her suppressant– I want her in my bed tonight” That was the order I had given to Emmanuel, my butler earlier today. Those words had left my mouth before I could stop myself, I didn't know why I said it, but something told me it had to do with Draven being there.

Possessive? Maybe, but it wasn't jealousy. Other than the fact that she is my mate, I felt nothing towards her. I felt nothing towards anyone– neither attraction nor affection and it would stay that way even towards the one the Moon goddess has bonded with me.

I stalked to the room, and before I could open the door, her addicting scent drew me in once again, like a siren's call—a quiet, irresistible pull that wrapped around my senses and left me powerless to resist.

Cyrus, who hadn't said a single word since suddenly gave a low growl, he was impatient and hungry for something, or rather someone.

I pushed the door open and stood there staring at her. She sat on the floor, head on her lap as her pretty white eyes seemed to stare into the void.

“Stunning, she is mine” His devil–like voice filled my head, forcing me to inch closer.

She suddenly brought her head up as if she had finally noticed my presence. And that was when I noticed it.

The familiar white dress that hugged her figure perfectly. The dress looked like it was made just for her but it wasn't. It was my mother’s dress.

My eyes darkened and killing intent surged through me as I glared at her. I saw only red and there was only one thing that ran through my head right now— put an end to her life.

I walked to her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her roughly towards me. She gasped in surprise as my grip tightened.

“How dare you? Do you have a death wish?” I asked and she struggled, trying to break free from my hold. It angered me, the way I was still drawn to her in that dress despite the fact I hated seeing her in it.

“King–” Her words were cut off as I slammed her against the wall, gripping her neck to cut off her air supply. Her eyes widened in horror and she tried using her hands and fingers to break free from my grip but it only made my frown deepen and I squeezed her neck harder.

"How dare you wear this?" I spat, watching as her breath grew ragged. She was fading, her consciousness slipping away with every passing second. It wouldn’t be long before she was gone.

She stopped struggling, and then she closed her eyes as if accepting her fate. I looked at her for a while, a frown etched on my face before I let go of her neck. She fell to the ground and held her neck as she coughed.

Her body shook in fear, yet she kept her eyes lowered. I crouched down in front of her, my finger lifting her chin until her gaze met mine.

I leaned in close, my voice a low command. "Strip."