Sweet Hatred Chapter 140: I think he would have liked her

KAEL’S POV

She stepped out, and I forgot how to fucking breathe.

The world dulled. Muted. Like soone turned the volu down on reality and cranked it all the way up on her.

Her dress clung to her like it was sewn by the gods with trembling hands. Each shimr of fabric kissed her skin in the most maddeningly perfect way, like it wanted to worship her. And her hair—fuck. Soft waves that frad her face like she’d just strolled out of so ancient painting ant to ruin n. Her skin glowed, her eyes sparkled, and her lips—those lips—looked like they could burn down empires.

I’d seen her. Every inch of her. In the raw. In pain. In pleasure. I’d seen her collapse in my arms and cry herself to sleep in my shirt. But this?

This version of Aria made my chest ache.

She looked like she didn’t belong to this world. And I hated that everyone around could see it too.

I noticed the shifting of eyes. The stunned silence. One of the guards actually leaned forward slightly, like a moth drawn to a fucking sun.

"Eyes down," I snapped. My voice was cold. Final. Deadly. "Now."

They obeyed instantly, like trained dogs.

I stepped forward, unable to stop myself. Every inch of leaned into her gravity.

"You know," I began casually, "if anyone ever needed a standard for beauty—like a universal rule, a divine scale—they’d just need to see you right now."

Her eyes narrowed. "You’re laying it on too thick."

I smirked, circling her slowly. My hand found her waist, and I tugged her just a little closer. She felt delicate. Regal. Like velvet and power wrapped in a heartbeat.

"And here I thought I was being modest," I murmured, leaning in. "You look like a myth, Aria. Sothing stolen from the stars. I could write a war about you."

"I swear to God if you—"

I tilted her chin gently and leaned down, aiming for her lips—

But she turned her head.

Dodged . Again.

My lips brushed her cheek, and she tensed.

"I’m serious," she muttered, barely above a whisper. "I said don’t touch ."

Sothing tightened in my chest. It wasn’t pain, not exactly. But it wasn’t pleasant either. Still, I kept my expression neutral, teasing.

"Even if I apologized?" I asked, voice low, curling around her ear.

Her shoulders twitched. "You didn’t even an it."

"Did too," I murmured as I kissed the shell of her ear, nipping it gently. "I said sorry... with my mouth. And my tongue. And—"

"Leave alone," she hissed, eyes darting to the staff nearby.

I grinned, unfazed. "Can’t."

"Kael—"

"I can’t, Aria," I said, a little too real now. My voice dropped. "If I leave you alone, I’ll die. That’s not dramatics. That’s biology. You’re in my blood now. You’re stitched into my bones. You breathe and I feel it in my ribs. You speak and I hear it in my skull."

She stared at , stunned. Maybe blushing. Definitely flustered.

"I can barely stand straight," she mumbled, looking away. "You didn’t know when to stop."

That earned a slow, wicked smile from . "I did stop. Eventually."

I kissed down her jaw. She tried to push off, but her strength was a ghost.

"Your body," I whispered, "grounds . Your voice quiets the noise in my head. You and Ivan—you’re the only ones who’ve ever... reached . You understand what that ans, Aria? You’re not just a drug. You’re the cure and the addiction."

She swallowed hard. Her eyes flicked up to mine, confused and flushed.

For a split second, I considered cancelling everything.

The wedding. The appearance. The performance.

I didn’t want anyone to see her like this. She was too radiant. Too soft and fierce all at once. Like soone would take one look at her and want to steal her away from .

Maybe I should test her.

"We could always skip the wedding," I said slowly, brushing her cheek. "Go back. Talk. In private."

Her head snapped toward , glaring. "After what they just put through? The hair pulling, the corset torture, the stabbing with eyeliner? I didn’t suffer for three hours to stay indoors, Kael."

I raised my hands in surrender, laughing. "Fine, fine. I surrender."

I opened the car door with a flourish, stepping aside like her own personal knight. "After you, goddess."

She rolled her eyes but stepped forward anyway.

And she definitely tried not to smile.

God, I loved her. More than anything.

And I was just getting started.

The car roared quietly, cocooning us in velvet silence as the city rolled by. She was looking out the window, her chin tilted slightly upward, her expression unreadable—but I knew. I knew she could feel staring.

I couldn’t stop.

God, she was too much and sohow never enough. She existed like a secret prayer whispered between battles. Like the last gift left behind by the people who loved enough to want to survive this cruel world.

My mother, who never got to see who I beca. Ivan, who told no one would ever compare.

And I believed him. I believed him when he said that. I thought he was my first and last. The one person who could ever anchor .

But then Aria ca in, and I am terrified. Terrified because loving her—wanting her this much feels like a betrayal. Like I am cheating on grief itself.

Is it wrong to let soone else beco the reason I breathe?

Is it insincere to find light again after I swore I’d live in the dark?

I don’t know.

But when I look at her—when I feel her presence pressing softly against the cracks in —I think maybe it’s okay. Maybe love doesn’t replace. Maybe it adds. Maybe she’s not after Ivan. Maybe she’s because of him.

I think he would’ve liked her.

She shifted slightly. Still didn’t look at . But her hand inched across the seat, fingers stretching out just enough.

And I—God, I reached for it like a man half-starved. Like touching her could convince the ghosts that I was still worth saving.

I kissed her hand. Pressed it to my mouth and closed my eyes. She didn’t speak. But she didn’t pull away.

And when the car pulled up to the wedding venue and the doors opened wide to lights and laughter and chaos—she still let hold her hand.