Hades
I dropped to my knees.
But not from weakness.
From fury.
From the sheer weight of what I was becoming.
I could still smell her in this room. Her scent—honey and lavender —clung to the walls like memory. The closet hung open, barren. Hollow. Mocking.
"You gave her everything," the Flux cooed. "And she chose Cain. She chose pity over power. Loyalty over love."
Black veins crept up my throat now, blooming like thorns. My mouth tasted of ash and regret. My nails sharpened without permission. My muscles spasmed, my back arching as the corruption tore further down my spine.
"She was supposed to be mine," I rasped.
"She is yours," the Flux growled. "You marked her. Claimed her. Bound her. She is part of your blood now. She can't run far."
"Then why," I choked, "does it feel like I'm dying?"
"Because you are."
A beat of silence.
"But what crawls from the grave you've made will not be so easily broken."
