Chapter 90 – The Vow That Binds Us
Aetheria felt it—the weight of his words, the undeniable truth in them.
Forever.
A vow spoken between them, not as a promise of mere mortals, but as an oath between two beings beyond divinity.
She let herself sink into his embrace, her fingers ghosting over the sharpened lines of his jaw, tracing the warmth of his skin as if memorizing every inch of him anew.
Leonhardt did not move, did not speak—he simply let her touch him, let her explore him like he was something fragile, something precious.
It was a rare sight—her hands, hesitant.
Not out of uncertainty.
But out of reverence.
Aetheria, the cruel, the ruthless, the Night's Queen, touched him with the care of someone afraid to break a dream.
Leonhardt let out a slow breath, his fingers closing around her wrist.
Aetheria looked up, their eyes locking, crimson burning into violet.
"You are still here," she murmured.
Leonhardt's lips quirked. "Did you think I would vanish?"
Aetheria said nothing.
But he saw it.
The smallest flicker in her gaze.
She had lived in eternity without him once.
She had endured the abyss, the silence, the weight of existence alone.
She had waited.
Searched.
Killed.
Survived.
And yet, even now, a part of her feared losing him again.
Leonhardt cupped her face with both hands, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers.
"You will never be alone again," he murmured. "I will not leave. Not in this life, not in the next. Not in any eternity we may find ourselves in."
Aetheria's hands curled against his chest, her fingers clutching the fabric of his tunic like a lifeline.
She did not respond.
Because she did not need to.
Leonhardt understood.
Aetheria Nyx Lunaris Solis—his Aetheria—was not a woman of words.
She did not express her pain, her longing, her grief.
She did not confess her fears or voice her emotions.
She did not need to.
Because he knew.
He had always known.
And so, instead of asking for words she would never say—he kissed her.
Slow.
Deep.
Endless.
Aetheria responded immediately, her hands sliding up to his shoulders, her body pressing into his as if trying to merge their existence.
His lips devoured hers, his touch searing, his presence all-consuming.
She let him.
Because she had craved this—craved him.
For centuries.
For lifetimes.
Leonhardt lifted her, his arms wrapping around her as if she weighed nothing, as if letting go would be unthinkable.
Aetheria allowed it.
She let him hold her.
She let herself be held.
Leonhardt's lips trailed down her jaw, pressing into the delicate column of her throat, his breath hot against her skin.
Aetheria's fingers tangled into his ashen-black hair, tugging just enough to make him growl.
"You are mine," she whispered against his ear.
Leonhardt's grip on her tightened.
"Always," he swore.
She kissed him again.
This time, she dominated.
This time, she led.
Leonhardt did not resist.
Because he never would.
He let her take everything she wanted.
His breath.
His touch.
His entire existence.
And as they melted into each other, as their magic intertwined, as their very souls burned together—
The stars above them flickered.
As if they, too, bowed before their reunion.
Aetheria pulled away first.
Her lips were swollen, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous.
Leonhardt smirked, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip.
"You are insatiable," he murmured.
Aetheria smirked back.
"And you are weak for me."
Leonhardt laughed.
Aetheria's smirk faltered just slightly.
That laugh.
It had been so long since she had heard it.
So long since she had felt the warmth of it against her skin.
Leonhardt tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"I have missed you," he admitted, his voice lower now.
Aetheria's fingers curled against his tunic.
"I know," she whispered.
Leonhardt searched her gaze, his hand tightening around her waist.
"Do you?" His voice held something unspoken.
Aetheria's smirk returned.
"Why else would I burn the world for you?"
Leonhardt exhaled sharply.
His grip on her tightened.
"I do not want the world," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers again, softer this time.
"I only want you."
Aetheria stilled.
For a single moment, the universe ceased to exist.
Then—
She tilted her head, capturing his lips in another slow, agonizing kiss.
Because she understood.
Leonhardt had always been hers.
And she had always been his.
Nothing in the world—not gods, not fate, not time itself—
Would ever change that.