Hades
The marble beneath our feet echoed every step like a countdown. Six hours had passed—barely enough ti to prep the security detail, summon the press, and drag the Tower into damage control mode. And now, the mont had arrived.
Eve stood beside , arms crossed as Lucinda offered her the final option: a makeup brush.
She didn’t even glance at it. "No."
Lucinda blinked. "You’re sure?"
Eve’s jaw was set. "Yes. If I show up airbrushed and contoured while people think we’ve been poisoning their bloodlines, they’ll assu I’ve been coached. Polished. Fake."
Kael’s voice cut through the comms. "Caras are rolling in the adjoining chamber. They’re waiting.
But he did not need to announce it. The clamouring of the reporters buzzed like a vibration through my skin.
Lucinda hesitated. "But just a touch of concealer—"
"I want them to see my fatigue," Eve said. "The scars. The weight. I’m not here to be worshipped."
She turned to , her profile sharp in the cold tower lighting. "We don’t win this with perfection, Hades. You understand that, right. They want the reality, we give them what they want."
I nodded, though a part of hated it. Hated that she was right. Hated that I couldn’t protect her from what ca next. But it made perfect sense to let her be formally introduced this way.
The doors leading into the main mall were closed for now. Just behind them, the clamor of journalists, flashing caras, and whispered conspiracies buzzed like hornets against the glass.
The sa hall we had stood in before.
Where she’d pressed her lips to mine, not out of love, but to deliver the poison. It felt like a life ti ago. I glanced at her to see she looked montarily lost, staring up at space. Her foot nervously tapping like they had been since we got here.
I shifted my weight, arms folding behind my back.
"You rember?" I asked quietly.
Eve looked up at , confusion marring her face. "What are you talking about?" Suspicion seeping into her tone, anticipating what would co next, courtesy of the joke I had mace the previous night to ease her anxiety.
"That kiss nearly killed ."
Her lip twitched, realization filling her expression. "Only nearly."
I looked away before the ache could do more than pulse. She’d kissed to hurt . And now she’d speak for to save .
No script. No spin.
Just truth.
Montegue approached, adjusting the cuffs of his coat. "Press is ready. They’re foaming for it. Just say the word."
Eve turned to face fully. Her turquoise eyes held sothing neither of us could na anymore—mutual devastation, maybe. Maybe sothing more.
"You don’t have to walk in with ," she murmured.
"I know," I said. "But I will."
The guards at the double doors nodded once, awaiting our cue.
Kael’s voice ca over the line again. "Three minutes. You’re clear."
Eve’s fingers brushed the front of her coat. No armor. No symbol. No crown.
Just the cursed twin the world wanted answers from.
I leaned in slightly. "You don’t owe them anything."
"I know," she whispered.
The doors groaned open.
A wave of cara flashes erupted like a second sunrise. Reporters surged forward, restrained only by the black line of Gammas stationed like statues.
Eve stepped forward. I followed.
The cursed twin walks into the fire.
And the king follows the woman who once poisoned him.
---
Eve
The lights hit like knives—bright, sharp, unforgiving. They washed over in a flood, reflecting off the marble floors and the chro podium ahead. The caras didn’t pause. Neither did the flashes. But the noise—that died instantly.
No shouting.
No questions.
No movent.
Just... silence.
Like the room had sucked in a collective breath and forgot how to release it.
Dozens of reporters, officials, recorders in hand and mouths open mid-sentence, simply froze. I could see the whites of their eyes, wide, stunned, as if I’d walked out of a tomb instead of a hallway.
And maybe I had.
I didn’t falter. I walked forward.
But I felt their stares as sothing almost physical. The weight of a thousand questions barely restrained by politeness. By shock. By fear.
I took my seat at the center table. One spotlight burned over . Another, beside it, on the empty chair Hades would take.
I heard him before I saw him—boots slow and firm. He slid into the seat beside , his hand finding mine beneath the table. His thumb pressed once against the inside of my wrist. A grounding gesture. A silent I’m here.
But the stillness didn’t last.
A murmur began. Low. Then rippling.
"Is that really her—?"
"That’s the cursed twin—"
"She’s not in chains—why isn’t she—"
"Wait, she looks... young. Too young."
"No crown. No branding. What is this?"
I inhaled slowly, eyes scanning the crowd.
Most were stunned. Many were skeptical. So looked ready to eat alive.
But not one of them looked away.
Montegue stepped to the edge of the platform and raised a hand. "You will have your questions. But first—hear her. That is the only condition of this press conference. You will listen."
And then he stepped back.
Hades gave my hand a final squeeze and let go.
I stood.
There was no paper in front of . No script. No perfect opener.
So I started with the only truth I could be certain of. My na.
"My na is Eve Valmont," I said, voice clear but soft enough to quiet them again. "Daughter of Darius Valmont of the Silverpine Pack."
A few pens paused mid-scribble.
I didn’t blink.
"Twin sister to Ellen Valmont."
A few gasps now.
I kept going. "And I am also the Cursed Twin of the Prophecy of the Fenrir’s Divide."
And just like that, the room exhaled.
Gasps. Mutters. Several chairs scraped back. One of the younger interns covered her mouth like she’d seen a ghost. Another man whispered sothing furiously into a comm device.
But no one spoke aloud yet.
They were waiting.
Waiting for what would follow.
I gripped the edge of the podium lightly. "Everything you’ve heard about —so of it is true. So of it isn’t. And so of it was never ant to be known at all."
I glanced at Hades. He hadn’t moved. But his presence next to was a wall—firm, silent, immovable.
"Today, I’m not here to spin a narrative. I’m not here to convince you that I’m a hero or a victim or anything in between. I am here to tell you the truth—because it is the only thing we have left."
I looked back at the press. "You will have your questions. You deserve them. But for the sake of clarity... let begin from the beginning."
The murmurs dulled again as they all listened.
Hades squeezed my hand again and I began.
"It’s true," I said softly, "that I am not Ellen Valmont."
A hush fell again, deepening as those words settled like dust.
"I am her twin. The one who shifted."
I saw the confusion knit into their brows. The disbelief. The desperate ntal scrambling to match the na Ellen to the face they had morized from portraits, footage, and reports.
But they couldn’t. Because that girl never truly existed.
"I shifted into a Lycan on my eighteenth birthday. Not Ellen. ."
Gasps echoed. Soone swore under their breath.
"My wolf—Rhea—ca through with such force that I shattered the hall floor beneath . And in the chaos that followed, they accused of poisoning my sister. Of attempting to kill the ’blessed twin.’ But it was a lie. A cover for what they feared more than death itself: prophecy."
I lifted my chin, letting them see —just as I was.
Fingers flew across datapads. Caras clicked in rhythm. But no one interrupted.
"They stripped of my na, of my identity. They locked in a concrete box so deep even the moonlight couldn’t reach . And then... they faked my execution."
Several jaws dropped.
"The girl burned at the stake five years ago wasn’t . She was an actress, a sacrificial performance for the Silverpine Pack to save face. To give the world closure, while I rotted in silence beneath their feet."
I exhaled slowly. "Five years I spent there. Alone. Forgotten. No trial. No visitors. Not even a proper mirror. I was experinted on, on Alpha Darius’ orders. I was hollowed continuously by Wolfbane.
A grim silence replaced the muttering. The weight of injustice had started to land—and it hurt.
"And then, by so twisted political miracle, I was brought out. Not to be freed. Not to be heard. But to be... wed."
My gaze slid toward Hades for a mont—asured, not sentintal.
"His Majesty was offered my hand in marriage as a peace treaty."
A few voices stirred again, confused and alard.
"Yes. The cursed twin, handed over in exchange for negotiations. For image. For optics."
I looked over the crowd.
"And he accepted."
I let that hang there—not as bla, but as truth. Every side in this war had blood beneath their nails.
"I walked into this tower not as a Luna. Not even as a woman. I ca as the living ghost of a prophecy no one had the courage to confront."
And now they were confronting her.
Live.
Unfiltered.
I gripped the podium tighter. "That is where this began. And it only gets worse from here."
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