Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
“Okay,” he says quietly. “Then don’t take my word for it.”
He reaches for the dagger on the sand and draws it across his palm. Blood wells bright against his skin, and I gasp when he catches my wrist gently.
“Listen to me,” he says, voice steady in a way that terrifies me.
“What I’m about to do isn’t Festival magic.
This isn’t Fate. This is far, far older.
” He presses his bleeding hand to mine, painting it with warm crimson blood.
“I bind my life to yours by choice,” he murmurs, words threading into the air like shadow.
“I will not abandon you. I will not betray you. I will not turn from you when it’s easier to leave.
” The magic stirs. Promising and unmistakable.
A binding spell. The same one that the couple after us completed three years ago at our first matching ceremony.
Tears well in my eyes at the gravity of his words.
“If I break this vow,” he continues, eyes never leaving mine, “let my strength fail and shadows leave me. Let my power rot. Let death find me swiftly and without mercy.” The spell ignites, wrapping around us both like tiny golden threads.
My breath stutters. “Riven—”
“I know this is serious,” he says softly. “That’s the point.” The magic seals with a sound like a heartbeat, and I feel the shift in my chest. One that only comes with a blood oath.
He releases my hand, and I eye the blood smear as if it means the world.
Because it does.
“I don’t need Fate to tell me who I belong to,” he says, voice breaking at last. “I choose you. Even if it kills me. One way or another, you’re going to be the death of me, Pop.
And now, I’m begging for it.” That’s Riven.
The man who leaps without thought. The man who’s bound himself without being asked.
I feel my throat tighten, eyes burning. All I’ve wanted my whole life, achingly so, is for someone to choose me like this.
Someone who wouldn’t wait for Fate to decide whether I am worth keeping.
And now Riven has. This vow cannot be taken back.
Cannot be faked. Cannot be survived if betrayed.
To betray such a bond would mean inevitable death.
Not only can it not be undone, but it has to be given voluntarily without coercion or sway.
Only words spoken from the soul can be counted.
He swore it without sway of charm or fear.
As desperate to have me believe his word is true as I am to be loved by him.
He who knows me, good and bad, and has chosen me still.
All my life, I have witnessed devotion, but now I have it myself. I know that not only is Riven’s word unable to be broken, but his soul swears he never wants it to be anyway.
Also, this will make the Moirai furious, which is an added bonus.
“Well?” Riven says, pulling me from my spiraling mind and reminding me it’s been far too long since I’ve spoken.
“I feel like anything I try to say after that will pale in comparison.” We both laugh, a soft, nervous tension settling over us.
We know what comes next, and the anticipation is creeping over us like his shadows.
I find his eyes, sun-flecked and earnest, and pour out my soul.
“I want to be with you too. I think I have for a long time, but it was quieter, and I pushed it to the side in pursuit of a husband when the man who liked me despite myself was beside me all along.”
“So…” His eyes drift around the spring. “What now?” His brow quirks mischievously, the old Riven returning now that the emotional weight is off his shoulders.
“Rumor has it, this next part is your expertise,” I tease.
He slides his body closer to mine. “If you want me to kiss you, just say so. No need to resort to psychological warfare.”
He tilts my head back. “Okay, I want you to kiss me.” My words are breathless, and I can hear my heart beating in my ears.
“Keep talking like that, and I’m going to do something deeply irresponsible.
” His warning falls on deaf ears as I finger the waistband of his undergarments.
He hisses between his teeth, eyes closing like he’s holding on to the last bit of his restraint.
“Sweetheart, you’re playing with fire.” His eyes open, shining with something that looks like flames. “Lucky for you, I burn pretty.”
Steam drifts across the surface of the spring in slow, silver ribbons, softening the world into quiet shapes of rock and water and moonlight.
I’m still sitting on the shallow ledge carved into the stone, the warm water lapping gently against my ribs, my pulse unsteady from everything Riven has just said and what I know—I hope—will come next.
Now, he isn’t looking at me like he’s about to make a joke.
He’s watching me like the answer to something he’s been searching for.
The silence between us feels different now, as if it’s full instead of awkward, like the air before the tide turns.
I trace a finger through the surface of the water just to give my hands something to do. The spring glows faintly beneath us, pale mineral light catching along Riven’s shoulders where the steam parts around him.
“You’re staring,” I murmur, unable to look up yet.
“Can you blame me?” He punctuates his praise with a wicked grin.
The warmth in his voice makes my chest tighten.
Slowly, I lift my gaze. He’s closer than he was a moment ago, but I don’t remember him moving.
Water ripples softly between us. Riven rests one arm along the stone ledge behind me, not quite touching, but close enough that I can feel the heat of him through the humid air.
For years, we’ve sat like this, shoulder to shoulder at tavern tables, knees knocking beneath card games, hands brushing when we reached for the same mug. But this feels entirely different. Dangerous in a quieter way.
“You’re thinking too loud,” he says softly.
“Am I?”
“Always.”
A small laugh escapes me before I can stop it, the sound dissolving quickly into the hush of the secluded basin.
The rock walls rise around us like protective barriers, the ocean and chaos only a distant whisper far away. No voices. No footsteps. No world beyond this small pocket of warmth and moonlight. Only us.
I shift slightly on the stone, my shoulder brushing his chest. Riven stills. The movement is tiny, but it sends a ripple through the air between us, something electric and fragile all at once.
“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower, “you keep doing that, and I might start thinking it’s intentional.”
My breath catches. For so long, I’ve hidden the way I look at him, the way my heart betrays me whenever he smiles. But tonight, everything feels different. The truth is free. And I no longer have to hide anything.
“It is,” I say quietly. The words barely leave my lips before I realize how close he is now. Riven’s hand lifts slowly, giving me more than enough time to pull away if I want to.
I don’t.
His fingers brush a damp strand of hair back from my cheek, the touch almost reverent. My breath trembles as his hand lingers there, warm against my skin.
“Poppy,” he says, and somehow, my name has never sounded like that before.
Not teasing.
Not careless.
Something softer.
Something that makes my heart feel full.