Chapter 88 – The Moon and Her King
The world could crumble.
The stars could fall.
Empires could rise and burn to ash.
And still, they would remain.
Standing beneath the eternal moonlight, in a world untouched by mortal hands, Aetheria Nyx Lunaris Solis and Leonhardt Valerian Everhart finally stood together once more.
Four years had passed.
Too long.
Aetheria had thought she would be patient.
But she had been wrong.
The moment he stepped into her world, something within her snapped.
She had meant to greet him with cold composure, with the grace of the goddess she had become.
Instead—
She was in his arms.
Her breath ghosted against his throat, her fingers pressing into his back as if to anchor him in place.
As if she would never let him go again.
Leonhardt did not move.
He simply held her.
And for a moment—just a moment—he closed his eyes and breathed her in.
She still smelled like starlight and power. Like home.
Aetheria pulled back, only slightly, her violet gaze burning into his crimson one.
"You took too long," she whispered, her voice a razor-edged accusation.
Leonhardt's fingers tightened around her waist.
"I never stopped searching," he answered, his voice quieter than hers—but no less intense.
Aetheria's expression did not soften.
Leonhardt exhaled, a slow, measured breath.
"I thought about you every second of every day," he admitted, his voice rough, unguarded. "It didn't matter how much I trained, how much stronger I became. It was never enough. Because you weren't there."
Aetheria's fingers curled into his collar.
"You were not the only one suffering," she murmured, her tone deceptively calm. "You were not the only one longing."
She leaned in.
Closer.
Her breath against his lips, her eyes dark with something dangerous.
"And yet," she whispered, "you stayed away."
Leonhardt broke.
One hand cupped the back of her neck, the other pressing against the small of her back, pulling her against him completely.
Aetheria did not resist.
Her fingers traced the curve of his jaw, her touch both tender and possessive.
"I left," he admitted, "but I was never truly gone."
Aetheria's thumb ran over his lower lip, a ghost of a touch that sent fire burning through his veins.
"You will never leave again."
It was not a request.
It was law.
Leonhardt's lips curled into a smirk.
"As if I ever could."
Aetheria's gaze hardened.
"Swear it."
His eyes darkened, the golden flecks burning like embers.
"I swear it," he vowed, his voice low, unwavering. "Now—swear it to me."
Aetheria's lips brushed against his jaw.
"I am yours," she whispered, her voice softer now, filled with something dangerous, eternal.
Leonhardt's breath hitched.
His hands trembled—just slightly—before he buried them in her silver-white hair.
"And I am yours," he murmured, pressing his forehead against hers.
The moment stretched.
Silent.
Heavy with everything they had not said.
The moonlight curved around them, the world shifting in quiet recognition.
This was no mere promise.
No fleeting desire.
This was absolute.
Aetheria's fingers traced his pulse, slow, deliberate.
"You have changed," she murmured, tilting her head slightly.
"So have you."
Her violet eyes glowed in the darkness.
"Are you afraid?" she asked, her voice teasing, but beneath it was something real.
Leonhardt's smirk widened.
"Of you?" His hands slid to her hips, his grip unchanging, unwavering. "Never."
Aetheria hummed, as if considering his answer.
"You should be," she whispered.
Then, with no warning, she pushed him back.
Leonhardt stumbled—just slightly.
It was all the warning he got before Aetheria moved.
Faster than light. Faster than thought.
In the next heartbeat—
He was the one pinned against the wall.
Her hands on his chest, her breath against his lips, her presence dominating.
Her power pressing into him, seeping into his very soul.
Leonhardt's pupils dilated.
Heat curled low in his stomach, but more than that—
Something else burned inside him.
Something primal.
Aetheria smirked.
"You are mine, Leonhardt Valerian Everhart," she whispered, her fingers trailing over his throat, lingering over his pulse.
"And I will never let you forget it."
Leonhardt exhaled sharply.
His lips parted—
But whatever words he might have spoken were lost.
Because Aetheria closed the distance.
Their foreheads touched, their breath mingled, and in that moment—
The world ceased to exist.
There was no empire.
No gods, no mortals, no war.
Only them.
The Queen of Night.
The King Who Had Fallen For Her.
And between them—
A love that no force in existence could ever break.