Chapter 94 – Bound by Fate
Aetheria's breath trembled as Leonhardt's fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns against the small of her back. The warmth of his touch burned through the fabric of her dress, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
They had been apart for far too long. Too many years lost to duty, power, and war.
But now, none of that mattered.
Not the empire that had branded him a traitor.
Not the gods who watched from above.
Not the mortals who whispered their names in reverence and fear.
Here, in the stillness of the moonlit sanctuary they had created between them, only they existed.
Leonhardt's gaze traced her face as if memorizing every delicate feature, every shift of emotion that crossed her violet eyes.
She had always been otherworldly, but now—
Now she was divine.
She was no longer just the ruler of the night, the feared and revered demigod who had shaken the world with a mere whisper.
She was a god.
Aetheria Nyx Lunaris Solis—the Goddess of the Moon and Stars.
And yet, here she stood, in his arms, looking at him as though he was the only thing in existence.
Leonhardt tilted her chin up.
"You ascended," he murmured. "I wasn't here to see it."
Aetheria's eyes softened, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. "You weren't meant to be."
Leonhardt's jaw tensed. "I should have been."
"You were meant to walk your own path, Leonhardt." Aetheria's fingers traced the line of his jaw, her touch featherlight yet possessive. "Just as I was meant to walk mine."
Leonhardt's fingers curled around her wrist, holding her in place.
"You were alone."
Aetheria's lips quirked, but there was no amusement in her eyes. "I was never alone." She pressed her palm flat against his chest. "You were always here."
Leonhardt exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead against hers.
She was right.
No matter the distance, no matter the years, he had never once stopped feeling her—craving her.
But it wasn't enough.
Never enough.
Leonhardt's arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer until there was no space between them.
"You are mine," he whispered. "And I am yours."
Aetheria's breath hitched.
She had heard those words before—so many times, in so many lifetimes.
But this time, they were different.
Because now, there was no power in existence that could separate them again.
Her fingers curled around the back of his neck, her nails scraping lightly against his skin.
Leonhardt's breath hitched.
Aetheria smirked. "You're trembling."
Leonhardt growled.
He tilted her head back and captured her lips with his own.
It was not a gentle kiss.
It was raw, consuming—a declaration, an oath, a promise.
Aetheria melted into him, yielding and yet not.
She gave as much as she took, meeting him with the same fire, the same hunger.
Leonhardt's hands roamed, tracing the curves of her body as if staking his claim.
She was a goddess now.
Untouchable. Unreachable.
Yet here she was—in his arms, in his grasp, surrendering to him.
And gods, he would ruin her.
Just as she had ruined him.
Aetheria pulled away slightly, her breath warm against his lips. "You're holding back."
Leonhardt's grip tightened around her waist. "I don't want to hurt you."
Aetheria chuckled, low and dark.
"You forget who I am, my love."
Her fingers trailed down his chest, over the steady thrum of his heart. "I am not mortal. I am not fragile."
Leonhardt's eyes darkened. "No," he murmured. "You're mine."
Aetheria's lips curled. "And don't you ever forget it."
Leonhardt smirked.
"Never," he promised.
And then, he kissed her again.