Chapter 92 – Devotion, Undying
Aetheria was drowning.
Drowning in him.
In his touch.
In his fire.
In the way his hands held her like she was something sacred and untouchable—yet he touched her anyway.
In the way his lips branded her, marking her as his with every heated breath they shared.
Leonhardt did not hold back.
He did not restrain himself.
He was devouring her.
And Aetheria let him.
Because she was devouring him just the same.
Her fingers trailed over the sculpted expanse of his chest, tracing the lines of honed muscle, feeling the strength thrumming beneath his skin.
Leonhardt shivered beneath her touch.
His hands tightened around her waist, his lips moving lower, trailing fire along her jaw, down the curve of her throat.
"Aetheria," he whispered against her skin, his breath ragged, his voice thick with something deeper than mere desire.
Something eternal.
Aetheria's heart pounded.
For the first time in centuries, she felt it.
The weight of his devotion.
The unyielding, unshakable certainty in his every touch.
It was overwhelming.
And yet—
She never wanted it to end.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling.
Leonhardt groaned, his arms caging her in, his body pressing her against the marble pillar as if he would never let her go.
Good.
Because she would never let him go either.
Aetheria tilted her head, her lips grazing the shell of his ear.
"Leonhardt," she whispered.
His breath hitched.
She felt it—the way his entire body tensed at the sound of his name on her lips.
She smirked.
And then, she nipped at his earlobe.
Leonhardt cursed softly, his grip on her tightening.
Aetheria laughed, a low, sultry sound that sent a shiver down his spine.
"You like it when I say your name," she murmured.
Leonhardt growled.
"I like everything about you," he admitted, his voice rough, unfiltered.
Aetheria froze.
Her smirk wavered—just slightly.
Leonhardt noticed.
Because of course he did.
His fingers gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"Say it again," he demanded.
Aetheria's lips parted— but no words came.
Not because she didn't want to say his name.
But because the way he was looking at her—
With worship.
With devotion.
With a love so absolute it could tear the heavens apart.
It stole her breath.
For the first time in her existence, Aetheria felt unsteady.
Felt seen.
Felt vulnerable.
And she hated it.
Because he was the only one who could make her feel this way.
The only one who could break down her walls with just a single look.
Leonhardt's grip on her tightened, his thumb brushing over her lower lip.
"Say it," he repeated, softer this time.
Aetheria swallowed.
And then—
She did.
"Leonhardt."
It was barely a whisper.
Barely a breath.
But his entire body reacted.
His crimson eyes darkened.
His fingers dug into her waist.
And his lips—
His lips crashed against hers in a kiss that shattered everything.
Aetheria gasped, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him deeper, closer, until there was no space left between them.
She kissed him like she would never get the chance again.
Like she was trying to burn herself into his very soul.
Leonhardt responded in kind.
His hands roamed over her body, tracing every curve, every dip, every inch of her like he was memorizing her all over again.
Aetheria moaned softly against his lips, her fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling, demanding, needing more.
And Leonhardt—
He gave her everything.
He always would.
Because she was his.
And he was hers.
Now and forever.