CHAPTER 321: A KISS STOLEN BY THE LINK

A Kiss Stolen by the Link

[Leon? Are you alright?]

The voice wasn’t Sona’s.

Leon froze mid-lean, his lips barely a breath away from Lira’s. The air between them hung warm, charged—but it wasn’t nerves that made him pause. It was the sudden flicker of amusement in his chest. That voice... sultry, sharp, wrapped in velvet and fire. Familiar. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He knew that voice.

"Nova," he murmured under his breath, eyes lowering with that quiet, lopsided grin of his. The Duchess of Blackthorn City. His wild, elegant storm.

He didn’t move. Just hovered above Lira, suspended in that intimate space, his breath brushing hers as a silent chuckle curled in his chest.

His thoughts stretched out, smooth and relaxed. [Yes, I’m fine, sweetheart.]

A beat passed.

Then came the reply—sassy and smug, like silk hiding claws.

[I know you’re fine. I’m just cheking.]

He raised an eyebrow at her intentionally broken grammar and the dry wit laced beneath it.

[That much faith in your man, huh?]

[Hmph!] Nova’s voice huffed with mock offense, but the smirk was obvious in her tone. [You’re too damn stubborn to die before you’ve collected at least half the women in Galavis. So no, I wasn’t too worried.]

Leon couldn’t help it—his breath escaped in a quiet, amused snort.

[You’re cruel,] he replied with a laugh under his breath. [But not wrong.]

He smiled again, unbothered, that playful warmth still tugging his lips.

Beneath him, in the real world, Lira’s eyes stayed closed. Her breathing remained soft, slow—waiting. Her parted lips hovered just below his, expecting his kiss.

But seconds passed.

And it never came.

Her brow creased faintly.

One eye peeked open, hesitant. Then the other, slow and searching. Her gaze found Leon’s still suspended above her—eyes closed, smile lingering, head tilted just slightly like he was caught mid-thought.

She knew that look.

That distant softness behind his smirk, that quiet shift in focus. She’d seen it before—he was speaking to someone through the link.

And she had a guess who.

Still, Lira didn’t scowl. Didn’t sigh. She just lay there, lips twitching with faint amusement, watching him silently. Maybe it was one of her sisters. Maybe her mother. Or... perhaps Nova— she dint said much. Or she didn’t interrupt. Only waited, a quiet, knowing smile forming on her lips.

In the back of Leon’s mind, the conversation continued.

[That idiot king announced to the whole damn kingdom that you were dead,] Nova muttered, irritation seeping through.

[I know. I saw it coming.]

A pause.

[So?] Her voice tightened, sharp with expectation. [What’s your next move? Because you don’t fake your death like this without a reason.]

Leon’s smile deepened, a quiet gleam in his eye.

[You really do get me, wifey.]

[Hmph. Of course I do,] she huffed. [I know you very well, you smug bastard.]

He chuckled through the link, his voice smooth and steady. [My next move...] he echoed slowly. [Simple. I start the real game now.]

[Seriously?] she shot back, arching a mental eyebrow. He could feel it—the sass, the disbelief, and the thrill coiling under her sarcasm.

[Mm-hm. Dead serious.]

Nova sighed, not hiding the exasperated fondness in her tone.

[You better not be planning to leave the rest of us in the dark again.]

Then softer, more carefully—

[Just tell me—are you taking the others with you?]

[Not a chance.]

[Then what?]

[Tomorrow, I’ll send them—all of them—toward Blackthorn. In disguise. You’ll receive them at your city. Keep them safe. And protect them until I crush Vellore and return.]

Nova didn’t respond right away. Something about his words unsettled her—made her pause, made her think. It was subtle, but real.

[You’re not coming with them?] she asked, and this time her voice carried more weight. Less teasing, more serious.

Leon exhaled, the breath quiet but heavy. The kind of breath that knew what had to be done.

["No."]

["Why not?"]

["Because,"] he said softly, ["I need time. Alone. To cultivate... and prepare."]

The words weren’t harsh. They didn’t slam or shock. They landed gently, like a truth handed over with care.

Silence followed.

Nova didn’t argue. She understood—of course she did. As a warrior, space and solitude weren’t indulgences. They were survival. Training. Focus. Resolve. If he said he needed time, then she’d trust him with that.

[...Fine,] she finally said. [I’ll receive them. I’ll make sure none of them are touched until you return.]

Leon smiled at that—slow, sincere, and warm. The kind of smile only someone trusted could bring out of him.

[Thank you, wifey. When I come to see you, I’ll give you everything you’ve been waiting for.]

That last part? It hit her hard. Caught her off guard, even. In the stillness of her private chamber, Nova blinked, a small flush creeping into her cheeks before she even registered it. Her breath hitched. She nearly dropped the wine glass she was holding.

[You’d better,] she muttered, flustered. [Don’t make a girl wait forever.]

Leon’s chuckle hummed through the connection, low and smooth. [I won’t.]

[Alright, then,] Nova replied with a smile. And then came the shift—his voice again.

[Talk later?]

[Why?] she asked.

[Actually, I’m a little busy right now.]

[Busy? With what?]

His smirk widened on instinct.

[Just about to fuck Lira.]

A sharp pause cut through the link.

Then came a breath—short, caught halfway in Nova’s throat.

["W-What the hell does that mean?!"]

["You know what it means."]

["You’re seriously hopeless."]

["You’re always like this, shameless bastard..."]

Leon laughed under his breath, soft and rich, the kind of sound Lira might’ve missed if she wasn’t already curled against his chest, close enough to feel his warmth.

["Why? It’s not shameless if it’s true."]

["Tch... Ugh. Nevermind. Go on then. I assume you’re busy?"]

His smirk deepened.

["Good night. ...Love you, idiot. Bye."]

["Love you too."]

And the telepathic connection faded into silence.

Back in the real world, Leon opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw... was Lira. Her blue eyes shimmered in the dim light, soft and patient, focused on him completely. She didn’t look angry. Just amused. Calm. Waiting.

He raised a brow. "What?"

Her voice came soft, teasing. "Who were you talking to?"

A flicker of guilt passed through him—not guilt that hurt, but the kind that made you aware. He was literally in her arms, wrapped around her warmth, lips barely an inch from hers... and still talking to another woman.

He exhaled. "Nova. She was worried. Because your father’s broadcast claimed we were all dead."

Lira blinked. Her lashes fluttered. She nodded, slow and graceful. "I figured as much."

Then her voice shifted—just a little lower, just a touch more raw.

"Did you talk to my mother, too?"

His eyes softened, warmth rising behind them.

Leon nodded. "I already did. Told her you, I, and the others are safe."

That surprised her. Her eyes widened slightly, catching the glow of the nearby lamp. "You... did? When?"

Leon smiled.

"Just before this. Before I pulled you into my arms. While you were busy blushing."

Her cheeks flared instantly, that quiet gasp slipping from her lips before she could hide it.

"So... you told her about us? About... tonight?"

Her voice dropped with that last word. Softer. Fragile. A little shy, a little uncertain. Like she wanted the answer but wasn’t sure she could handle it.

Leon leaned in again, gaze glowing with quiet heat.

"Not yet. I’ll tell her when I meet her in person. Don’t worry—I want her to know about us. But just... not like this. Face to face is better."

Lira exhaled. Slowly. The kind of breath that let go of worry but still held onto feeling. She believed him. She trusted him. But the moment still clung to her skin, still curled around her thoughts.

Leon didn’t wait any longer.

He pulled her closer, arms firm and warm around her waist, one hand pressing against the small of her back as he brought her in, tight and steady. "Enough waiting. This moment is ours now. No more interruptions."

Lira’s lips parted. She nodded, flushed, her breath uncertain. Her cheeks flushed deeply, rosy red, eyes darting with nervous heat. Her voice was a mere whisper. "Mm."

Leon leaned in—and kissed her.

This time, nothing stopped them.

Their lips touched in a slow, fiery kiss, liquid at the edges. His was soft—hottest he could recall, but purposeful. Hers, warm and hesitant, yielded after a beat. Then she surrendered to the moment, let herself be swept beneath. One hand formed into his hair, the other stroked his jaw, tracing him as if she wanted to commit his outline to memory.

Their lips touched together, hungry and slow. Savoring mouths, learning mouths.

Leon parted her lips slowly with his tongue.

She trembled.

But she didn’t step back. She met him—tongue to tongue.

Their tongues clashed, a slow motion of desire, rubbing and tempting until it pulled them deeper, more dangerous. Her sweet moans hummed into his mouth, turning the kiss from gentle to devouring. Tongues entwined. Breaths synchronized. Heat accumulated.

Leon’s hand crept lower, wrapping around her waist, then tightening on her ass through the thinness of her pants.

He squeezed—tightly.

Lira gasped in the kiss, her soft moan stifled by his mouth. He didn’t release her. His hand circled with intent, kneading her curves as if he intended to commit every inch to memory by touch alone, taking her with each slow, intentional squeeze.

The kiss still didn’t break.

If anything, it intensified.

Wilder.

Their bodies pressed together, and Lira wrapped her arms around his neck as if she feared the moment would crumble. Their lips remained connected, breath intermingling, the wet kiss sounds and gentle moans circulating the room in waves of constant, increasing rise.

Time lost form. It didn’t matter.

Later, they separated—barely. Their lips were wet, swollen, shaking. Their foreheads touched, panting, hearts pounding against one another.

Lira’s cheeks flared with warmth. Her eyes sparkled, dazed and unfocused, her kiss-bruised mouth open like she couldn’t breathe. She stared at him like she was toppling—no, like she already had.

Leon captured her eyes, golden eyes burning low and deep. Something primal and holding bred behind them.

"I’m not letting you go tonight," he said, his voice heavy with desire.

She didn’t respond.

She only laughed, blushing and panting, and wrapped her arms more closely around his neck.

Leon strode without hesitation, lifting her up into his arms in a smooth, liquid motion.

Lira gasped, shocked, then laughed once more, her cheeks a deeper red. "Leon—W-What are you—?"

But he silenced her with another kiss. Brash. Starving. Addictive.

She dissolved with a soft whimper, willing and limp, laughter constricted in her throat. Her legs wriggled a little in his grasp, but her hands gripped his collar, not letting him go.

He took her to the bed—not too big, not too small—and settled her down like something fragile. Then he moved beside her, slow and careful.

No hurry.

He kissed her again. Once. Twice. Then his lips followed their course downwards.

His fingers followed. Tracing the waist, touching the swell of her breasts, caressing her hips. Every spot he touched left her gasping for breath.

"Mm... mmm..." The groans escaped from her mouth before she could silence them, broken and soft.

Every graze of his fingers made her tremble. Every trip back to her mouth pulled out another sound from her throat. She couldn’t help but gasp little, the way her body reached out for his touch like it wanted more.

And Leon... he wasn’t done.

He wanted to know every inch of her.

And tonight, he would.