Page 149

Hades

Screams tore from the researchers all around the lab like this was nothing they had ever seen before—it was probably worse.

The movement of the black fluid was coordinated and precise as it all but lunged forward. Towards me. I always knew that the corruption had a mind of its own, but I did not think that it had reached this extent; it was aware of me.

The researchers scattered, including Dr. Cohen, beakers and distillers falling and breaking as they clamored for safety. The lab was suddenly a cacophony, but I stayed rooted in place as it crept closer and closer.

The tips of my fingers tingled, the hair rising on my neck. I felt a vibration pass through me, confused at first until I finally broke eye contact with the approaching black fluid and raised the isolated Fenrir’s Marker.

The pinkish substance was bubbling, vibrating with such intensity that, just like the black blood, its reinforced glass containment was fractured. The pink fluid thrashed, webs of cracks spreading throughout the glass as the vibration turned almost violent.

I raised my eyes; black blood was less than a yard away. Suddenly, there was another crack, and the glass broke, causing some of the researchers to yelp.

My eyes widened into saucers as the Fenrir’s Marker poured out of the wounded containment and did not spread, but instead rose into the air, straight for the incoming black blood.

"What in the Tenth Pantheon..." a researcher whispered, as if speaking louder would draw the fluid to her.

The fluids did not crash or mix. No, it was more bizarre than that.

They seemed to wind around each other, intertwining like they were embracing each other in midair. I clutched my chest as I watched in awe.

My heart pounded. This wasn’t chaos. This was deliberate. Calculated.

And yet, for all my logic, I couldn’t look away.

This wasn’t natural. The two substances should have annihilated each other on contact—or merged into something far worse. But they didn’t. They moved with purpose, deliberate and coordinated. Like predators circling, or worse… like old lovers reunited.

I blinked, forcing myself to look away from the hypnotic display. My heart slammed against my ribs, but I shoved the awe down, burying it beneath instinct and control.

Focus.

"Container. Now." My voice snapped through the chaos, sharper than the breaking glass around us.

A researcher flinched, her wide eyes darting to me before she stumbled back into motion. "Y-yes, sir!" She fumbled through the cluttered workstation, shoving aside shards of glass and shattered equipment.

The fluids remained suspended, coiled around each other in midair, moving in slow, deliberate motions. They didn’t fight. They didn’t merge. They simply... existed together.

Strange.

The researcher returned, breathless, clutching a reinforced containment unit. I snatched it from her hands without a word.

I moved carefully, but I didn’t need to.

As I brought the container closer, the entwined fluids drifted toward it on their own, as if they wanted to be contained. No resistance. No erratic movements. Just a slow, almost reverent descent.

They settled at the bottom of the unit, still swirling around each other like a quiet storm, content.

My grip tightened on the container.

They didn’t fear being sealed away.

They welcomed it.

I didn’t like that.

"Seal it. Triple lock." My tone left no room for argument.

The researcher hesitated. "Sir, should we—"

"Do it."

She scrambled to obey.

I stared at the fluids, still spiraling lazily inside the container, and for the first time in a long while, a cold weight settled in my gut.

Dr. Cohen finally came out of his hiding place. When I turned to him, we exchanged a knowing look.

"I might have a hypothesis..." There was a tremor in his voice, and his hand shook as he adjusted his glasses.

"Me as well," I murmured.

"Another LSI test will be underway as soon as possible," he said, wiping his forehead.

"But this time, with my black flux blood and Ellen’s blood," I gave words to what we both were thinking.

"Exactly." He let out a sigh, his skin was still pale from the fright.

"This... this could be the answer we have been looking for. The Fenrir’s Marker was reactive, but for it to.

.." He trailed off, still in so much awe that he did not know what to say.

"In my fifty decades, I have never witnessed something so…

so impossibly alive," Dr. Cohen finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

The word hung in the air, heavier than the broken glass at our feet.

Alive.

I stared at the containment unit in my hands. The two fluids continued their slow, deliberate spiral, neither fusing nor repelling, locked in a delicate dance. There was intelligence in their movement—an unspoken agreement between them.

No. Not intelligence. Instinct.

And instinct had drawn them to each other. Instinct so strong that they broke through the safety of their containment. No hesitation, no fear that they would not be able to meet each other. They leapt for each other.

Something cold and sharp pressed against my ribs.

Dr. Cohen’s hand trembled as he adjusted his glasses again, smearing them with sweat. "Hades… if this is what I think it is… if the Marker is bonding with the corruption—"

"It’s not just bonding," I cut in, my voice low but firm. "It’s recognizing."

Cohen’s breath hitched. "Recognizing?"

I set the container down on the nearest reinforced platform, careful and deliberate.

"They’re not fighting. They’re not merging. They’re circling each other. Testing. Understanding." I leaned in slightly, narrowing my eyes. "Like two halves of the same whole." Like they have known each other once before.

Cohen paled. "You think the corruption and the Marker… were meant to coexist?"

I didn’t answer. Because the truth was—I didn’t know. I might be wrong.

But something inside me churned at the thought.

"If this is true…" Cohen trailed off, swallowing hard. "Then Fenrir’s Marker isn’t just a stabilizer. It’s a missing piece. That should not be possible. There is no relation between them, Vampiric Essence of Vassir and the blessed twin’s Fenrir’s Marker."

Of course, it was outlandish, but here they were interacting. It was dawning on me that there was still much more to be unraveled about the substances. What I had been injected with and the Marker that Ellen possessed. Much, much more.

She could be the key.

And the wrong key in the wrong lock could break more than it opens.

"Prepare the LSI test," I said, sharper now. "Use my black flux blood and Ellen’s. But this time, I want full environmental control. No more surprises."

"Yes, sir." Cohen’s voice was faint but resolute.

I turned my gaze back to the container. The swirling fluids seemed to slow, as if they were listening. Watching.

Waiting.

My jaw tightened.

Whatever this was, we had just opened a door.

And something on the other side had noticed.

Suddenly, the door of the laboratory was slammed open, and in walked the last person I would have expected at this time.

"Ambassador Montegue," I greeted.

He was a slight man. It had not always been that way until Danielle’s death. Yet despite his frame, his eyes remained sharp and filled with a hostility that was perpetually cast at me. This time was no different.

To any other person, his expression would have been unreadable, but I could see right through his calm exterior. He was not the type to ever make a scene in a bid to humiliate a person, including the person he hated.

"Your Majesty," I could hear the hiss in his voice. "We need to have a discussion."

I eyed my former father-in-law before nodding. "Of course."

---

One could have heard a pin drop in my office as he showed me the image on his device. "What is this, Hades?"

I looked stared down at the image of me, on my knees in front of Ellen, it had obviously been taken during our date. I signed deeply. "I am kneeling it would seem," I murmured.

"Before a werewolf, before the daughter of the bastard that took my child." He seethed. "Or have you conveniently forgotten?"

Not everything is as it seems.

I tilted my head, studying the image again. Me, on my knees before Ellen. To anyone else, it was damning. Weakness. Submission. To him, it was betrayal.

But that was the point.

"Tell me, Ambassador," I said slowly, voice smooth as ice, "do you truly believe I would kneel without purpose?"

Montegue’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of hesitation breaking through his mask of fury.

"You think me a fool?" he hissed. "That I would not see this for what it is? You kneel before the daughter of Darius the very man who destroyed my family. My daughter. My grandson. And now you parade around with his spawn as if it means nothing!"

I let his words hang in the air, heavy and venomous.

"Nothing is ever without purpose," I murmured, steepling my fingers. "What you see in that image... is exactly what I wanted to be seen."

Montegue’s lip curled. "Cryptic words from a man too cowardly to admit his disgrace."

"No," I corrected, my voice sharpening like a blade. "Calculated words. You know me better than to think I’d fall victim to sentimentality. That woman—" I let the word drag, "—is far more than Darius’ daughter. She’s the key to ending him."

His eyes burned, a silver of doubt. "I know you loved Dany. But if you fail her, if you betray her for the blood of her killer. You will never know where her body is. I will take that right from you."