4. Lakynn
LAKYNN
S ince the dinner at The Mill, I’ve only had one opportunity to escape, and I took it. Unfortunately, I wasn’t expecting it to be a setup from Lucas and to be dragged right back to the farmhouse I’ve lived in the last few years. Now I’m standing under the harsh overhead lights of Belinda’s Bridal Boutique, half-zipped into a dress that feels like it’s going to rot my skin off. In this lighting, I don’t look like the exuberant bride I should be a few days before my wedding. In fact, it only highlights the splotchy makeup my mother smeared on me to hide the bruises Lucas and my father left on my arms and neck for trying to escape. I assume my mother, in all her infinite wisdom, decided it was best to cover them up so Matthew isn’t displeased that he didn’t get to ruin me first.
The fabric clings to me like it knows I don’t belong in it. The satin is too smooth. The bodice is too tight. The train is too long.
My reflection in the mirror doesn’t look like me. The girl there looks like a ghost. Same short blonde hair and big brown eyes. Pretty, I suppose, but vacant and dressed for sacrifice.
I press my palms to my stomach, trying to keep from unraveling. I told myself I’d just try it on while I waited for my next chance to escape. I’m here with my mother, but that doesn’t mean my father doesn’t have someone standing guard if I try to climb out a bathroom window. The second the zipper slid up my back, something inside me cracked.
I hate this. I fucking hate this and everyone involved.
The shop is quiet. My mother is in the back room where all the dresses are kept talking to Belinda, the owner of this place. She’s known as Castlebrook’s most aggressive matchmaker. Belinda does all the weddings in Castlebrook. If you’re getting married in this town, you go through her. It’s not tradition, it’s a power play. She knows what this is, and she’s fine with it as long as she gets paid to facilitate the wedding and reception.
And I’m standing here, half-swallowed by a dress I never wanted, preparing to become a bargaining chip in my father's latest deal. Belinda is full of bullshit. She knows it and she knows everyone else knows it, but that doesn’t stop her from spewing it everywhere. She told me I should feel so lucky to have a fiancé like Matthew. I wanted to claw her eyes out, but I just don’t have the strength to waste on someone like her now.
I don’t want someone who would take a bride as a brokered deal in order to merge two families.
I want someone who looks at me like I’m the only oxygen in the room.
Like Riven used to.
Just as I think his name I get chills all over my body as if he’s in the room with me.
The bell above the front door doesn’t ring. There’s no announcement that anyone has entered the building.
Just a shift in the air. That feeling you get right before lightning strikes.
And then he’s there.
Riven Kozlov is looking at me like I’m the only woman he’s ever laid eyes on.
He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. His reflection appears behind mine in the mirror and my breath catches in my throat.
He’s bigger. Broader. His hair is longer now, curling a little at the edges under his black baseball cap. There’s stubble along his jaw and wildness in his gray eyes that wasn’t there before. Maybe it always was, and I just refused to see it.
He’s beautiful. Still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
And he’s staring at me like he sees the ghost I’ve become.
His jaw tics. His fists clench at his sides.
His eyes drop to the dress I’m wearing. I’m not stupid, he knows this isn’t my choice. Riven has had eyes, specifically his bestie Caiden Grey’s eyes, on me this whole time. He knows what our father is trying to do, yet he looks like he’s been kicked in the gut.
Something flickers across his face. Rage, then betrayal. “Take it off,” he growls.
The words don’t land like a request. They land like a warning. The message is clear. If I don’t, he will.
My body stiffens. “You left me here with them and that’s all you have to say to me?”
He takes a step forward, voice low when he enunciates, “Take. It. Off.”
I blink, heart pounding. “No.”
“Lakynn, I’m not in control right now.” His nostrils flare. “Take that fucking thing off or I’ll take it off for you.” To anyone else, his voice would sound calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that comes before a hurricane. To me though? He’s in a full on crashout.
“Riven—”
He’s already moving, stalking across the boutique like he owns it. Like nothing and no one could stop him if they tried.
His gaze is locked on the dress, the ring on my finger. He hasn’t noticed the bruises. When he does? I don’t think I want to be here for the fallout.
He stops in front of me, and the heat rolls off him in waves. His breath is shallow. His big hands twitch like he’s holding himself back.
“I said take it off,” he snaps, and I can hear the absolute desperation in his voice. He doesn’t like seeing me in this dress wrapped up like a present for another man to unwrap. Something about that thought gives me satisfaction.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “You left me.”
“You think I wanted to?” His voice cracks.
“You did. You left, and you didn’t come back.”
“I had to.”
“You chose to leave without telling me.”
He glares at me, and I shake my head. I’m not doing this. He needs to fix the Matthew situation and then we can talk about if I forgive him for leaving me here.
I turn to walk away, but his hand curls around my waist. He spins me back toward him and pins me with a stare so intense it steals the air from my lungs.
His fingers drop to the zipper at my back. “Last chance.”
“Riven, I don't have anything on under here.” My words come out more high-pitched than I would like, but the way he’s looking at me tells me that I’m about to be standing here in my panties.
His eyes flash at my words and he rips the zipper down so roughly that it breaks.
The fabric rips as it moves over my skin and pools at my feet.
I’m left in a pair of pale lace panties. This is the first time Riven, or anyone for that matter, has seen me naked.
Riven doesn’t move. His breath catches before it’s suddenly loud and ragged like he’s been punched. His eyes drink me in, but they don’t move over me quickly. They linger. He’s not just looking at me. He’s consuming me. Like this is what he’s starved for, and someone’s finally dropped his first meal in years.
I shiver, not from the cold, but from the heat of his stare. My nipples harden in the sudden rush of air, but the moment his gaze drops to them, the chill disappears.
His chest rises like he’s struggling to breathe.
“Fuck,” he breathes.
I can’t take it, I’m embarrassed and move my arms to cover my chest. He’s having none of it because his hand lifts, tentative for a second, like he doesn’t trust himself. Then he moves my hands away and cups my breast. His warm, broad palm molds around the softness of my skin. The tension inside him breaks and his mouth parts slightly. He lets out a broken, reverent sound, like he’s finally holding something he’s spent years dreaming about but never thought he’d touch.
I try not to react, but it’s impossible. My body arches slightly into his palm like it’s starving too. Every part of me that’s been numb flickers back to life. He curses again, louder this time, and pinches my nipple. Just once at first, then again and again like it’s addictive.
Like I’m his and I could never belong to anyone else.
My thighs squeeze together, instinctive and aching for more of this. Heat licks up my spine. My knees threaten to buckle. No one’s ever touched me like this and I should stop him.
I should shove him away. Call him cruel. Tell him he doesn’t deserve this, not after leaving me broken. Instead, I stand there and let him burn me alive. Riven’s jaw flexes, his eyes glued to where his fingers are rolling and pulling and exploring me like he’s trying to memorize the feeling with every nerve in his body.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
He doesn’t smile. Instead, he looks tortured. His hand trembles. Just barely. But I feel it.
Something tightens in my chest. He’s not just unhinged, he’s unraveling and I’m the reason for it.
My body trembles, and I hate that I still want him this badly. That I still need him to look at me like this. Like I belong to him. Like no one else even exists.
“You need to know that I came here for two reasons,” he says, voice strained. His hand slides down, trailing heat across my stomach, stopping at the waistband of my panties. “To get you and to end every person who kept us apart.”
I flinch. “Where did you go?”
He looks up, eyes burning into mine. “I’ll explain everything when it’s the right time. You’re still mine, Lakynn. I can see it in your eyes. Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me. You won’t win.”
My voice cracks when I cry out, “You left me. I thought I meant nothing.”
His face contorts with something like anguish. “You’re the only thing that’s ever meant anything.”
His fingers press just slightly against the front of my panties, and I let out a sound that can only be described as half gasp, half moan.
“Don’t,” I whisper, breathless. “Riven.”
But part of me is lying because my core pulses for him. I want to feel his skin against mine.
He leans in, mouth brushing against my hairline, and I lean my hands on his shoulders. His voice is ragged, low, broken. “You have no idea how much I’m restraining myself right now.” He cups my pussy before groaning out the words, “Tell me you missed me, baby. Tell me you missed me the way I missed you.”
I whimper.
I should stop him.
I should hate him.
But all I feel is that I’m alive again. That Riven has always made me feel alive.
That he’s the one who never looked at me like I was property. Like I was fragile. He always treated me like I was equal and like I belonged with him.
Riven’s knuckles start to graze the inside of my thigh and I just as I think he’s going to push my panties to the side the door to the viewing room creaks open.
“Lakynn?” my mother calls out.
I go rigid.
Riven moves fast, stepping in front of me, shielding me from view.
Belinda gasps. “Oh my?—”
“Get out,” he snarls.
Neither of them moves.
“Riven,” I whisper, grabbing his arm. “Please don’t?—”
But he turns toward me, still blocking my body from their view. He cups my chin, and it doesn’t escape my attention that his knuckles are indeed scraped up. “Get dressed in whatever you came here in,” he says softly, almost like he’s breathing out the words. He’s capable of being so gentle, and I suspect that he saves that side of him just for me. That quickly his expression hardens and he snaps, “anything but that fucking dress.”
Belinda and my mother don’t listen, pushing their way in, but I’m hunched over, pulling on the zip-up hoodie and jeans I wore here. I don’t worry about my bra because there’s no time. I can tell that there’s little chance that this whole thing is going to get resolved peacefully.
My mother stumbles back as Riven storms toward them. Belinda nearly trips over the hem of her dress, heels skidding across the polished floor.
“I said get the fuck out,” Riven snaps, and my spine straightens because I’m suddenly aware of why everyone on this mountain is afraid of him.
He’s not yelling. It’s worse. His voice is low, deadly. Every word seems to be soaked in violence.
My mother recovers first. Her voice trembles, but her mouth twists in disdain. “This is why we arranged the marriage, Riven, and why we asked you to leave. Because of things like this. With your sister.”
Riven freezes.
It’s like she slapped him. His head tilts. Slowly. His jaw works as he processes the word sister like it physically hurts to hear it out loud.
“We’re not related,” he says, voice cold enough to cut glass. “She is not my sister. She’s mine, but she is not my sister and no matter how many fucking times you say it, it will never be true.”
Belinda tries to backpedal toward the door. “I-I’m calling the police.”
“You won’t get them. They’re probably finding Lucas in his car,” Riven growls. “I’ve been in town since last night taking care of every motherfucker who even has the smallest hand in this whole thing. Dad though? And the fucker you were going to give her to? They’re last, and it’s going to fucking hurt.”
I see the look of alarm on their faces.
“Lucas? My Lucas?” Our mother gasps, and Riven rolls his eyes because what other Lucas would he be talking about? He grabs the closest dressing room door, yanks it open, and shoves Belinda inside, slamming it behind her and pulling it so hard that it jams. He turns toward our mother. She doesn’t move, but I see the way her breath quickens, and her eyes dart between the exit and the man in front of her.
“It’s your fault I gutted your little golden boy like the spineless fish he is,” Riven says. “He begged for his life and I hope you think about that with the little time you have left.”
“You’re unstable,” she hisses. “She needs someone normal. Someone safe.”
Riven lifts his shirt just enough to show the gun tucked into his waistband. “She’s the safest she’ll ever be with me. I’ve killed for her and I would die for her.”
She blanches. But her spine stiffens in defiance. “After everything we did for you?—”
“All of your children are expendable,” I say, stepping out from behind Riven, trying to keep my voice steady. “We all had uses. We just didn’t find out until it was too late.”
Her mouth opens.
But then her eyes drop to my hand where I still have the ring on. I’m dying to get rid of it, but my finger is cut from my father holding me down while my brother jammed it back on my finger this morning. Riven’s already on edge and I honestly just want to get the hell out of this town without any more hold ups.
“Give me the ring, Lakynn. If he’s going to take you, at least give me the ring.” I give her a puzzled look,because she can’t be serious. I don’t get a chance to respond because Riven is shoving her toward another dressing room next to where Belinda has been trapped.
Riven smirks. “Inside.”
Our mother looks like she might cry and I don’t have any sympathy for her. I believe Riven when he says he killed Lucas and Matthew is next. Actually, I think there were probably more casualties along the way that he left out. I feel nothing but relief.
He grabs the doorknob, ready to shove her inside and I realize that we’re going to be alone. It’s what I was hoping for. I begged him every night to come back for me, burying my face in my pillow and crying out for him. But now that he’s back, I’m not sure I’m ready for whatever he has in store for me.
I bolt while he has his hands full and run out the front door. Down the street. Through the snow-lined sidewalks of Castlebrook Falls.
I don’t know where I’m going.
I just know I need to run.
Not because I’m afraid of him. I’m terrified of what happens if I don’t.
Losing Riven once almost destroyed me, and if I don’t leave first, I’m afraid I won’t survive it again.
The wind hits my cheeks as I tear down Main Street, past shuttered shops. There’s that smell in the air, the kind that tells you snow is coming. It lingers, heavy and electric, like the whole town is holding its breath waiting for it. I used to love the snow because that meant going further up the mountain to the cabin our father and his brother built on a pond. I used to love watching Riven play hockey on the frozen pond. It’s one of the only memories I have of him where he seemed free, like he was enjoying himself.
I wish I could say I’m numb right now. Or even that I’m angry. But I’m not. I’m buzzing. Skin alive. My nipple is tingling where his fingers lingered.
I can’t stop replaying how he looked at me. Like he’d been crawling through the dark and finally found the light. Like I am his salvation, his sin, and everything in between.
When he touched me, really touched me, it was like I was his. Like I’d always been his.
It was everything I’ve ever wanted.
And I hate myself for almost giving in too quickly. I practically fell into his arms just because he came home in time to save me from the very people he left me with.
I hate that I still feel connected to him in this soul-tethered way. That no matter how many months passed, how many nights I cried alone, that pull between us never died. It just went quiet.
Until now.
And that’s why every nerve ending in my body is screaming at me to run back to him. I want to throw myself into his arms and beg him to take me anywhere he wants to go. I’ll be happy as long as I’m by his side.
But I keep running.