Hades' Cursed Luna Chapter 135 His Red

Eve

Hades' words felt like a dagger to the chest, each syllable twisting deeper.

Eve is dead.

I couldn't take it. I couldn't take another second of him speaking about as if I were so distant mory, so ghost that haunted him through . Like he hated as much as Ellen had. It was too much to bare.

I was afraid that it would unravel and that in the anger and hurt that those words of his incited I would snap and blurt out the truth of my identity. That the floodgates would open and not only engulf but the Silverpine and the innocents who had no hand in this conspiracy.

Before I could think—before I could stop myself—I grabbed blindly for his collar, fingers curling into the fabric with a desperation that burned hotter than sha.

My lips crashed against his, hard and pleading but demanding all in the samr breath.

Hades stiffened beneath , shock rippling through him like a crack of lightning. His breath hitched, and for a single, stretched-out heartbeat, I thought he'd pull away.

But he didn't.

Instead, his hands snapped to my waist with a hunger so fierce it stole the air from my lungs. He hauled against him with such force I swore I could feel the heat radiating from beneath his skin—searing, and delectably agonizing.

His mouth moved against mine, rough and demanding, like he was trying to imprint himself into , to burn away whatever ghosts lingered between us.

And gods, I let him.

My fingers twisted tighter in his shirt, tugging him closer, but it wasn't enough. His grip tightened, fingers pressing into the small of my back as if he thought I might shatter if he let go.

Hades kissed like he was starving—like I was the only thing that could satisfy whatever fire burned inside him. His lips traced the shape of mine, deepening with each tilt of his head, leaving breathless and dizzy.

I felt the sharp edge of his teeth graze my bottom lip, a fleeting warning of the hunger coiled just beneath the surface.

A soft sound escaped —sowhere between a gasp and a plea—and that was all it took.

Hades growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through my entire body. He lifted effortlessly, making stradddle him, his hips slotting between mine as if he couldn't bear the space between us.

The kiss turned feral—scalding and feverish. His tongue invaded my mouth with such ferousity that I stood no chance. His hand slid up my spine, fingers tangling in my hair as he tilted my head back, exposing more of my neck to him.

"He's going to consu ," I thought, heart hamring in my chest. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to care.

His lips left mine just long enough to drag along the curve of my jaw, his breath scorching against my skin. I could feel the restraint trembling in his muscles, like he was holding himself back by the thinnest thread.

But his touch—his mouth—told a different story.

It wasn't just hunger. It was sothing deeper. Sothing raw and unspoken.

Hades wasn't just kissing .

He was holding together.

As if he knew—he must have known—that I was barely keeping myself from unraveling at his feet.

My hands slid up to his neck, threading through the dark strands of his hair as I tugged him closer, silently begging him not to stop.

I wanted more.

I wanted to drown in his fire until there was nothing left of the cold that had taken root inside .

When he pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breath was ragged, his grip still firm around my waist as if he didn't trust himself to let go.

"Ellen…" His voice was rough, almost broken, but the way he said my na felt like he was holding sothing back—sothing fragile.

I couldn't breathe.

His thumb brushed over my lower lip, and I felt the ghost of a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. "Ellen..." He murmured again and I could feel the tantalizing heat receding, the cold encroaching faster. Her na on her lips suddenly destroyed what ever relief his touch had given. In a way, she was taking hi from . The thought made bile rise in my throat

"I..."

But I cut him off with my lips, shocking him into silence again. He kissed back, grabbing my hips tighter and grinding against him. I pulled away, our mouths separating with a pop.

"Don't call Ellen," I told him.

I felt his confusion, thick and palpable in the silence between us. His breathing slowed, but his grip on never faltered, as if he feared I might slip through his fingers if he let go.

"Ellen…" he began, voice hesitant, but I pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him before he could say it again.

"That na…" I swallowed hard, feeling the bitter weight of it on my tongue. "It was never really mine. It was given to because I was born with her—Eve. Two halves of the sa whole."

Hades' brow furrowed, his hands shifting slightly at my waist as if he was trying to piece together what I wasn't fully saying.

"Ellen wasn't just a na," I continued, my voice softer now, but trembling under the weight of the truth I was skirting around. "It tethered to her. Always in her shadow. Always the lesser half."

His gaze sharpened, and I felt the shift in him—the realization beginning to dawn, even if he couldn't grasp the full picture.

"You're not lesser," he said quietly, his hand sliding from my waist to cradle my jaw, forcing to look at him even in the suffocating darkness. "You never were."

A weak, bitter smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. If only you knew. I bit my lip, steeling myself.