Hades' Cursed Luna Chapter 190 The Breaking Point

Eve

I had fought this. Fought him.

With words sharp as daggers. With glares that could cut through steel. With a wall built so high, I had sworn—sworn—that no one, not even him, could breach it.

But he had.

Not with kindness. Not with pretty promises or whispered reassurances.

He had torn through my defenses with rage and hunger. With the way he stood between and the things that threatened to devour her whole from the inside. With the way he t my fire with his own, clashing, searing, consuming—until I could no longer tell where the hate ended and where the hunger began.

And now… now I had nothing left to fight with.

No strength to wield against the grief suffocating . No walls to hold up against the shadows trying to pull under.

All I had was him.

His heat, pressing against the cold that had settled into my bones. His voice, a blade cutting through the suffocating silence of my despair. His touch, grounding her in a world that had never done anything but take, and take, and take.

My family was enemy and still the only person that stood between them and was him.

I had spent so long convincing herself that loving him was wrong.

But if this was wrong—if clinging to him, to this, was a sin—then why did it feel like the only thing keeping alive?

So I let myself fall.

Not into the abyss waiting to swallow whole.

But into him.

If loving him made a sinner, then I would bear that sin like I bore my scars—etched into my skin, a testant to all that I had survived.

But... I did not know for just how long I could hold so I let the words spill out of , however detrintal they would be.

"Hades..."

The na spilled from my lips like a prayer, fragile and desperate, yet it held the weight of a thousand battles fought—most of them against myself.

I didn't know if I had the strength to hold onto this. To hold onto him.

But gods, I wanted to.

I lifted my gaze, searching his face for sothing—anything—that would ground before I slipped further into the abyss.

And there he was.

A storm carved into flesh, his presence all-consuming, his eyes dark with sothing unspoken, sothing violent and reverent all at once.

Hades.

The man who had beco my shield and my sword. The man I had once sworn to loathe, yet now, standing in front of , he was the only thing keeping from disappearing entirely.

I felt his grip tighten on , his warmth pressing into the cold that had long since settled in my bones.

I pulled away, putting space between us, afraid of his reaction. "I know..." I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to shake away the chill that has returned. "I know this… what I feel… it shouldn't exist," I whispered, my arms tightening around myself as if I could hold together the pieces that threatened to break apart. "Not in this world. Not in the war we were born into. Not between us."

My breath hitched as the truth unfurled from my lips, raw and trembling.

I lifted my gaze, expecting sothing—anger, rejection, anything that would make this easier. But instead, I found him—still, silent, watching .

Hades didn't speak. Didn't move.

And that silence—his silence—unraveled sothing deep inside .

The weight of it all crashed over , drowning in the impossible cruelty of what I had just confessed.

A choked sob left before I could stop it. My body trembled as the tears ca, hot and rciless, slipping down my cheeks in betraying streams.

I wanted to take it back. To swallow the words and pretend this never happened.

Because in the brutal, unforgiving world we lived in, love was not a luxury we could afford.

Love could break kingdoms. Love could start wars.

Love could destroy us.

And yet, despite all of this—despite everything—I had fallen for him anyway.

"I'm sorry," I gasped, my vision blurred as I tried to step back. "I should have never—I should have—"

A sudden rush of movent.

A flash of red—his eyes, burning, alive, furious.

I barely had ti to startle before he moved—so fast that my heart lurched, my body locked in place as he closed the distance between us in an instant.

I braced for it. For the worst. For the rage, for the rejection, for the agony of being cast aside like this love ant nothing.

But instead—

His mouth slamd into mine.

A collision. A claim. A devastation.

The air between us ignited as his lips crushed against mine, as if this—this—was the breaking point, the mont he could no longer keep himself from .

His hands were everywhere—cupping my face, threading into my hair, pulling closer, deeper, harder—as though he needed to feel every inch of to believe I was real.

The kiss was not gentle. It was desperation and fury wrapped into one, a battle fought in the space between our lips, in the clash of breath and hunger.

I gasped against his mouth, and he took it, swallowing the sound as his hands tightened against .

My knees buckled, but he didn't let fall.

He wouldn't let .

A sharp growl rumbled in his chest as he pressed flush against him, his body heat and tension and pure, unyielding possession.

I felt the war inside him, the battle between restraint and the raw, untad need that threatened to consu him whole.

And gods help , but I wanted to be consud.

His lips slanted over mine, his grip shifting to tilt my chin, deepen the kiss, steal whatever air was left between us—until the only thing that existed was him.

Hades.

A man I had once called my enemy.

A man who now kissed like he would die without .

When he finally pulled back, just an inch, his breath was ragged, his forehead pressing against mine.

"I will never hear you apologize for this again," he whispered, his voice dark, wrecked, unchained.

I was shaking.

Not from fear. Not from doubt.

But because sothing inside had finally snapped, and there was no turning back now.

"I should walk away," I breathed, even as my hands fisted into his shirt, refusing to let go.

His answering smirk was all teeth, all danger, all ruin.

"Red," he murmured, his lips brushing mine again, slower this ti, savoring. "Say it again."

His voice was low, rough, as though he barely trusted himself to speak. As though those words—three simple words—had sohow cracked him open.

I swallowed, the weight of everything pressing down on , yet with him here, I could breathe.

"I love you."

A sharp breath left him, his fingers trembling against my skin, and I felt it then—the way the world shifted, the way his control shattered around .

He cupped my face, his touch both reverent and possessive, like he was trying to morize , like he was afraid I would slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough.

"Red," he murmured, his voice an exhale of sothing raw, sothing dangerous. "You—" He stopped, shaking his head, his jaw clenched like he was fighting sothing inside him.

Like he was trying to rein himself in.

I reached up, fingers brushing his wrist, grounding him the way he had grounded countless tis before. "I ant it," I whispered. "I love you."

Sothing inside him broke.

His lips crashed against mine in a kiss that felt like a war, a battle fought between fire and desperation, between love and all the ruin that ca with it.

I should have been afraid of this.

Of us.

But when his arms wrapped around , when I felt him pour every unspoken promise, every unrestrained emotion into that kiss—I knew.

I had already fallen.

And I wasn't coming back. "I know you don't feel the way I do." My voice wavered.

He stilled.

For a mont, there was only silence between us, only the sound of our ragged breaths intertwining in the space we refused to break.

Then—

A sharp, bitter laugh left him, rough and guttural, as if he couldn't believe what I'd just said.

His hands tightened on , not enough to hurt, but enough—enough to remind that he was there, that he was real, that his body was as solid and unyielding as the force of his presence crashing over like a tidal wave.

His grip shifted, his fingers tilting my chin up, forcing to et the full force of his gaze—blazing, devouring, his irises burning in molten red, as though the words I had spoken had shattered sothing inside him.

"You think I don't feel this?" His voice was rough, wrecked, barely controlled.

I blinked up at him, my throat constricting, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Sothing inside him snapped.

"I have fought you, Red." His thumb brushed my bottom lip, his voice shaking with sothing dark, sothing desperate.

I shivered.

"I have fought against you, against this—against the way you burn under my skin and carve yourself into my ribs like you're sothing that has always belonged there."

My breath hitched.

His grip tightened on my waist.

"Do you know what you've done to ?" he growled, his forehead pressing against mine, his voice sharp, unhinged, aching. "I used to think I held your chains, that I had you on a leash, but gods—"

His voice broke, and my stomach dropped.

"You were rattling them the entire ti, weren't you?"

My breath faltered.

*"You—" he exhaled sharply, his hands shaking against . "You are fire, Red. You are a storm. And I am the fool who thought he could control the hurricane when all I've ever done is be caught in it."

My chest caved in at his words.

He wasn't done.

"You think I don't feel this?" His voice was dangerous, dripping with sothing undeniable, sothing raw. "You think I don't see you?"

My lips parted, but no words ca out.

"You are reckless and brave, kind to a fault—" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head, his fingers tangling into my hair. "You fight like you were born to defy the gods themselves, and yet you are selfless enough to put yourself in the fire for people who do not deserve you."

My throat closed.

"You think I don't see the way you stand before your demons, unyielding, even when they've tried to break you a thousand tis over?" His fingers trailed down my spine, his breath hot against my skin. "You are everything I never thought I could have, and I have spent every waking mont trying to convince myself I do not want you."

I let out a sharp inhale, my body trembling, his words coiling around like a vice.

"But I do."

His voice was a low growl, a confession laced with sothing brutal.

"I want you in ways that should not exist." His breath ghosted over my lips, his eyes ravenous. "I want you when I shouldn't, when I have no right to, when it is the last thing this world would ever allow."

A shuddering breath left , my fingers clenching against his chest.

"You have undone , Red." His hands cradled my face, his thumb brushing my cheek, saring away a tear I hadn't realized had fallen.

I trembled.

"You were never ant to be mine," he whispered, his lips barely brushing mine. "And yet I will ruin whatever is left of before I lose you.

I felt it before I even heard it—the sharp, shuddering breath, the way his fingers curled against , his entire body tensed, on edge, stripped bare.

And then—

"I love you."

It wasn't soft.

It wasn't sweet.

It was razor-sharp, guttural, violently raw, as if the words had been ripped from his chest—as if they had always been there, waiting to break free.

"I love you, Red...I love you in ways that will ruin . In ways I already have." His voice was low, fierce, reverent. "I love you in ways I cannot control, cannot suppress, can only succumb to."

My lips parted, my breath shallow, my pulse erratic.

"You are my greatest war, Red." His voice broke, raw and guttural. "My greatest obsession. My greatest sin, my only salvation."