The morning felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Too watchful.
Too full of echoes from the night before.
Ariaxa walked beside Riven through the training hall, her wrists still sore from Kaedan’s silk bindings. Every muscle in her body felt aware — too aware — of the vampire walking beside her. Riven’s steps were clipped, sharper than normal. His jaw was tight. He hadn’t spoken since escorting her from Kaedan’s room.
The enormous hall was empty at this hour, sunlight filtering through high slitted windows in thin shafts. Weapons lined the walls. The air smelled of steel and sweat and something taut and dangerous.
As soon as they were alone in the center of the hall, Riven suddenly reached out — not gently — and grabbed her wrist.
Ariaxa gasped as he yanked her toward him.
“Riven—!”
His face was inches from hers, eyes burning with something fierce, something frustrated, something she had never seen in him.
“Listen to me,” he growled, voice low, harsh, cracking with emotion. “You cannot let him claim you completely.”
Ariaxa stared, stunned. “What—?”
Riven’s hand tightened around her wrist. “If you do, none of us will survive him.”
His breathing was uneven. Too quick. Too hot.
Ariaxa pulled slightly, but he didn’t let go. “Riven, you’re hurting me.”
He loosened… barely. But he didn’t release her.
His voice dropped to a whisper shaped like a confession he had fought too long.
“You don’t understand what he becomes when he fixates. He tears apart kingdoms. He destroys allies. He burns down every thread of sanity he has left.”
Ariaxa’s heart pounded painfully. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t choose—”
“You didn’t have to choose,” Riven snapped softly. “He already did.”
His gaze flicked down her body, stopping at her throat. Her bruised skin. The faint imprint of Kaedan’s hands. The flush in her cheeks. The memory of last night still written on her.
Riven swallowed hard.
“He smelled you,” he murmured darkly. “He touched you. He nearly—”
He cut himself off before his voice broke.
Ariaxa’s breath caught. “Riven… why are you saying these things?”
Riven exhaled sharply and finally released her wrist — only to step even closer. His chest brushed hers. His arm slid around her waist in a movement too natural for a man who claimed neutrality.
“Because,” he said, voice rough, “I am terrified.”
She stared at him. “Of Kaedan?”
“No.” Riven leaned in until his forehead nearly touched hers. “Of myself.”
Ariaxa’s lips parted. “Riven…”
He closed his eyes as if it pained him. “I swore loyalty to him. To protect him. To guard the throne with my life.” His fingers brushed her waist, trembling. “But ever since the night I found you in the crypts—bleeding, shaking—I haven’t been able to ignore it.”
Her breath trembled. “Ignore what?”
Riven looked at her then, fully, nothing hidden.
“You.”
Heat shot through her like lightning.
His voice dropped lower. “Your fire. Your stubbornness. The way you look at him even when you’re terrified. The way you look at everyone else like you were born royalty, even now.”
Ariaxa felt her pulse pound in her throat. “Riven… don’t.”
“I tried,” he whispered. “I tried to stay away. But he’s losing himself, and you’re the cause and the cure, and I don’t know which one terrifies me more.”
She shook her head. “Riven, this is dangerous.”
“I know.”
Their breath mingled, hot, fast, wrong.
Riven’s eyes dipped to her lips — and lingered.
“You have to be careful with him,” he murmured. “If Kaedan claims you entirely, he will rip this palace apart for you. He will kill his own council if they breathe wrong in your direction. He will unravel the empire.” His voice tightened. “He will unravel himself.”
Ariaxa swallowed, words barely a whisper. “And you? What about you?”
Riven’s jaw clenched. “I… am already unraveling.”
One step.
One heartbeat.
One breath.
He moved.
His hand slid to the back of her neck. He pulled her in with a low, desperate sound she had never imagined from him.
And then his mouth crashed onto hers.
The kiss wasn’t gentle.
It wasn’t careful.
It wasn’t a mistake.
It was hungry.
Starving.
Forbidden.
Riven kissed her like he’d wanted to since the first moment he saw her — like something inside him finally snapped. His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss until she gasped against his mouth. Heat exploded through her. Her knees weakened.
His body pressed flush against hers as if trying to mold them together. His breath was ragged. His lips moved fiercely, devouring her, claiming her in a way Kaedan never had.
He kissed her like he knew he’d never get another chance.
Ariaxa’s hands braced weakly against his chest, not pushing him away — just clinging to something solid in a world that spun too fast.
Riven groaned against her mouth, the sound low and guttural. His hand slid down her spine, gripping her waist, pulling her tighter.
“Ariaxa…” he whispered against her lips, voice cracking. “I can’t— I shouldn’t—”
He kissed her again anyway, harder, deeper, like a man drowning.
And then—
A cold shadow sliced across the floor.
Riven jerked back, breath shaking, eyes wide with panic.
Ariaxa’s lips parted, her breath unsteady, her body trembling from the sudden loss of his heat.
Slowly, with horror dawning in his eyes, Riven lifted his gaze past her shoulder.
Ariaxa turned—
And saw him.
Kaedan stood in the doorway.
Silent.
Motionless.
Eyes black as death.
His aura filled the entire hall, suffocating and lethal.
A storm waiting to detonate.
A monster moments before the kill.
Riven’s hand slipped from Ariaxa’s waist.
His voice died in his throat.