CHAPTER 147: THE TRUTH COMES OUT

She stood trembling, torn between fury and heartbreak. "Then fight for me, Lucas. Don’t stand in towers like a ghost while I fall apart."

He met her eyes now, and something in him cracked wide open.

"You think watching you choose another man didn’t break me?" he whispered. "You think I stood there coldly? I had to dig my nails into the stone to keep from dragging him away from you."

"Then why didn’t you?" she whispered.

"Because you’re not mine to cage."

Athena moved then, fists slamming into his chest, not to hurt, but to feel.

"You are allowed to be jealous. You’re allowed to be angry. I need to know you care that much."

"I care too much," he rasped, catching her wrists. "And that’s exactly why I was silent. Because one more wrong word, and I might’ve killed a man who still bleeds for you."

Silence crackled.

Their breath. Their hearts. The bond between them pulling tight, tighter.

Lucas let go of her wrists slowly, but didn’t move away.

"You’ve been torn in two for days," he said. "I felt every ache. Every question. I thought maybe you needed space."

"I don’t want space," she breathed.

"What do you want?"

Athena’s voice was barely audible. "I want to stop hurting you."

"Then love me," he said. "Not in halves. Not with apologies. Just—love me."

She surged forward—and kissed him like she’d been dying to breathe.

It was fire.

It was battle.

It was surrender.

When they broke apart, both breathless, Lucas leaned his forehead against hers.

"I’m not perfect," he whispered. "But I’m not walking away. Even if it kills me to share pieces of your heart with ghosts."

"Cassius isn’t a ghost," she said gently. "He’s a scar. You... you’re the blood that still runs warm."

He smiled faintly, painfully. "Then let me bleed with you."

The kiss should have ended.

It should have been the kind of heat that flickered, a desperate moment that burned out quickly like so many before it.

But it didn’t.

Instead, it deepened. Darkened. Devoured.

Lucas pulled her closer, his fingers trembling against her skin like he couldn’t believe she was real. Athena’s hands slid into his hair, her chest pressed against his, their breaths tangled as if they’d waited lifetimes to feel this again.

"Say it again," he whispered, voice ragged.

She blinked, dazed. "Say what?"

"That you don’t want space," he rasped. "That you want me. Not as a maybe. Not as a safe second."

Athena cupped his face with both hands. "I want you, Lucas. I choose you. No more ghosts between us."

A sound escaped him—part groan, part relief—and before she could say anything else, he was lifting her into his arms.

He carried her through the open arch of the tower chamber, moonlight following them like a silent witness. The room was spartan, cold stone and rough blankets, but none of that mattered.

He set her down gently on the bed, but the look in his eyes was anything but gentle.

"You don’t know what you do to me," Lucas murmured, hovering above her.

She smiled faintly. "Then show me."

His lips were on hers again, more urgent this time—less apology, more hunger. Athena arched into him, her body catching fire under the weight of his hands, his mouth trailing down her throat like a worshiper praying to his goddess.

Clothes fell away slowly, as though they couldn’t bear to part all at once. Fingers traced scars and stories across each other’s skin. He kissed the edge of the mark on her shoulder—the one she’d gotten during the rebellion—and she stilled.

"I’m not scared of your past," he murmured. "I want to know it. Hold it."

Athena swallowed, throat tight. "Then hold all of me."

He did.

When he finally sank into her, it wasn’t rushed—it was reverent.

Her breath caught, and so did his. They moved like tides meeting for the first time, rhythm guided not by lust, but by the pull of something deeper—something sacred.

Every thrust, every gasp, was layered with the ache of everything they hadn’t said for too long. Lucas buried his face in her neck, whispering her name like a litany. "Athena... goddess, you feel like home."

She gripped his back, nails raking down. "Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop."

He didn’t.

The pace quickened, building into something feral, something primal. The sound of skin on skin echoed in the room, mixed with moans and broken whispers. He kissed her through it all, like he was afraid she’d vanish again.

And when they broke apart just long enough to look into each other’s eyes—gods, it was like falling in love all over again.

Their bond stirred awake like a sleeping beast—wild and golden and ancient. It pulsed between them, shimmering at the edges of their consciousness, glowing in every point of contact.

"I feel it," Athena gasped. "Lucas—I feel you."

He pressed his forehead to hers. "Then don’t let go."

The moment tipped. She shattered beneath him, crying out, her release pulsing through the bond like lightning. He followed, burying himself deeper, groaning as he spilled into her, his soul pouring into hers.

Silence stretched between them after—full of heartbeats and heat and breath.

Athena lay on her back, chest rising and falling, lips parted, sweat clinging to her temple. Lucas dropped beside her, one arm draped over her bare waist, his other hand running slowly through her hair.

Neither spoke at first.

And they didn’t need to.

Their bodies were still tangled, legs intertwined, the weight of what had just happened sinking into them like gravity.

"I didn’t know it could feel like that," Athena finally whispered.

Lucas turned his head toward her. "Like what?"

"Like I was made for it. For you."

He swallowed thickly. "You were."

Athena turned toward him, brushing her fingers along his cheek. "I’m scared."

"Of me?" he asked, gently.

"Of how much I’d burn the world just to keep you."

He caught her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. "Then let it burn. I’ll light the match with you."

They didn’t fall asleep.

They lay awake, skin to skin, trading small touches and slower kisses. His hands traced her spine lazily. Her lips brushed the curve of his jaw. Every movement was quiet devotion—like they were memorizing each other all over again.

At some point, she whispered, "You saw me at my worst."

"And I still chose you," he replied.

Athena’s throat tightened. "I don’t deserve you."

Lucas gave her a long, quiet look. "Maybe not. Maybe I don’t deserve you. But I’m not going anywhere, Athena. Even when it hurts. Even when I want to rip Cassius apart."

"You still hate him."

"I do," he admitted. "But I understand him now."

Athena blinked. "Why?"

"Because I know what it feels like to love you."

Morning would come too soon.

There’d be blood on the horizon. Politics. Enemies. Cassius. The Alphas would test her. A portal would open again. The war was far from over.

But for one night, they weren’t rulers or warriors or gods reborn.

They were just two people—one scarred, one silent—who had finally found their way back to each other.

Lucas pressed one last kiss to her shoulder.

"Sleep," he whispered. "I’ll be here when you wake."

Athena curled into him, her voice barely audible. "And if I don’t want to let go?"

He smiled into her hair. "Then don’t."