Chapter 89 – Bound by Fate, Bound by Soul
The air between them was thick—charged—as if the very fabric of reality was holding its breath.
Leonhardt did not move.
Not because he couldn't. But because he wouldn't.
Aetheria's touch was a command. A claim. A promise.
And he had no intention of resisting.
Her breath ghosted over his lips, dangerously close yet still withholding.
She was teasing him. Testing him.
Waiting for him to break.
But Leonhardt—her Leonhardt—only smirked, his crimson eyes burning like dying embers.
"I will never forget," he murmured, his voice low, rough, unwavering. "But, Aetheria—"
His hands shot up.
Faster than even she could react—
His fingers tangled into her silver-white hair, his grip firm yet reverent as he tilted her head back.
Aetheria's breath hitched.
Leonhardt flipped their positions in an instant.
Aetheria found herself against the cold stone wall, her back pressing into the dark marble.
Leonhardt stood before her, caging her in.
One arm rested beside her head, the other wrapped securely around her waist, keeping her close.
But his hold—though possessive—was not a restraint.
He knew better.
Aetheria could end him in an instant.
And yet, she let him hold her like this.
She let him press against her, surround her, consume her.
Because she wanted it.
Because she wanted him.
Leonhardt's gaze softened, just slightly. His fingers traced the side of her face, reverent, almost hesitant.
"You have always been cruel to me," he whispered, his thumb brushing against her lower lip.
Aetheria smirked.
"You never complained before."
Leonhardt chuckled, but the sound was dangerous.
"You think I won't now?" His lips hovered over hers, close enough that every exhale sent shivers down her spine.
Aetheria's smirk did not falter.
"If you dare to complain," she whispered, "I will silence you myself."
Leonhardt's breath hitched—just slightly.
His fingers curled against her waist, his grip tightening.
"You should be careful with such threats," he murmured, his voice lower now, filled with something unspoken, something dark.
Aetheria tilted her head.
"And why is that?"
Leonhardt leaned in.
So close.
But he did not kiss her.
Not yet.
Instead, he brushed his lips against her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth—
But never where she wanted him most.
Aetheria's eyes darkened.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders.
"You are playing a dangerous game, Leonhardt," she murmured, her voice edged with warning.
Leonhardt's lips curled into a smirk.
"And yet, here you are—letting me play."
Aetheria's patience snapped.
Her hands shot up, fisting his collar and pulling him flush against her.
Their breaths mingled, their power intertwined, the very air cracking around them from the sheer force of their presence.
Leonhardt's heartbeat pounded.
Fast. Hard. Unrelenting.
And then—
Aetheria kissed him.
The world shattered.
Her lips were cold and fire, moonlight and destruction, power and eternity.
Leonhardt did not hesitate.
He pushed back, matching her force, her dominance, her claim.
His arms tightened around her, pulling her impossibly closer, as if he wanted to burn her into his very soul.
Aetheria let him.
But she did not surrender.
She never would.
Her fingers curled into his ashen-black hair, tugging him deeper, demanding more.
Leonhardt growled against her lips, his restraint snapping.
He pinned her against the wall, his magic surging, his power pressing against hers in a battle neither wanted to win.
Aetheria's lips curved against his.
And then—
She pulled away.
Leonhardt's eyes flashed.
His breathing was uneven, his grip unrelenting, his entire body coiled with tension.
Aetheria only smirked.
"You lose," she whispered.
Leonhardt chuckled, low and dark.
"You are mistaken, my Queen." His hand traced the curve of her spine, his voice rough with unspoken devotion.
"I never wanted to win."
Aetheria's smirk faltered—just slightly.
Only for a moment.
A moment Leonhardt saw.
His lips brushed against her temple, slow, deliberate.
His voice was nothing but a whisper now—
"But I will never let you leave me again."
Aetheria stilled.
For the first time in years, she did not know what to say.
Leonhardt pulled back, just enough to look into her violet eyes.
"I will follow you," he murmured.
"To the ends of the world. To the depths of the abyss. To eternity and beyond."
His fingers curled against her skin.
"Because I belong to you."
Aetheria's breath hitched.
For all her dominance, for all her cruelty, for all her power—
She could not stop the way her heart clenched.
The way her fingers trembled as she touched his face.
The way her voice softened.
"Then let us be together," she whispered.
"Forever."
Leonhardt exhaled.
Slow. Deep.
His eyes gleamed with something dangerous, unbreakable.
"Forever," he echoed.
And this time—
When he kissed her—
It was not a battle.
Not a claim.
Not a game of dominance or submission.
It was a promise.
Aetheria let her eyes slip shut, let herself sink into his warmth, his presence, his existence.
Because she knew—
No force in the universe would ever separate them again.