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 me and the things that threatened to devour her whole from the inside. With the way he met 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 me. No walls to hold up against the shadows trying to pull me 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 me 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 me alive?

So I let myself fall.

Not into the abyss waiting to swallow me whole.

But into him.

If loving him made me a sinner, then I would bear that sin like I bore my scars—etched into my skin, a testament 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 me, however detrimental they would be.

"Hades..."

The name 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,

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 me. 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."