Chapter Thirty-Three
RIVEN
Though it was only just morning, it now looks as if twilight is slipping into night. Hopefully, the Moirai magic is altering reality and not stealing time. Now that my eyes have been opened to Poppy, I don’t want to lose a single second with her.
Long wooden tables are set on the sand. Glowing lanterns line the perimeter, and a massive bonfire crackles in the distance right by the shoreline. Servers wait in the wings, trays with umbrellaed drinks waiting to be handed to us. I wonder if they ever get a break from this insanity.
The ocean rolls in slow rhythmic waves beyond the party, matching energy with the contestants filtering past me. The music, some kind of wild drumming, calls couples to dance at the center of the party.
This whole thing mirrors our first couple of days here perfectly. Even Poppy standing beside me, hand in mine.
But this time: no pretending, no distance, no tension.
The island may not be different, nor are the Moirai, but we are.
My fingers tighten around hers.
Thank Fate for that.
We break apart, reluctantly, when servers bring us drinks and hang back as the rest of the matches move deeper into the party.
Poppy walks with me on the beach, her body casually bumping mine with a shy smile on her lips.
“I don’t know what you’re being coy for.” My hand finds hers again without thinking. “You’ve already seen what Fate bestowed me.” The warmth of her palm in mine is grounding against the loud party and cool sea breeze.
“Do you ever tire of speaking in thinly veiled innuendos?” she quips, cheeks slightly pink like the swirling clouds in the soon-to-be night sky.
“No.” I lift her hand to my lips, pressing my scruff and lips to the back of her fingers. “And as long as it makes you smile, I never will.” My eyes pause on the party. The music from the swaying band, sweating glasses in the hands of dancing contestants, heads cast back in laughter.
“Want to dance?” Poppy asks, likely assuming I’m watching the revelry with want.
“Do you?” She doesn’t like to be the center of attention, and I’d be happy to slip into a booth in the beach clubhouse and shroud us in shadows so I can put my hands on her properly again. Without the fear of a looming pirate attack hanging over my head.
“I do.” She pauses to watch the people we’ve spent the past few weeks with.
Friends. Enemies. Exes. The smile that lifts her lips makes me want to be the best version of myself.
The soft lines that etch around her mouth have me thinking of a thousand tomorrows with her by my side.
I’d give a lot to know what’s going on inside her head when she looks at me and her smile widens. Fate. What does she see in me?
I gather a handful of shadows in my palm and hold it up to my mouth, ready to blow them in her direction. “May I?” Her eyes pass over my mouth, waiting patiently to blow my eager shadows, and she nods. “Intro,” I whisper, before gently blowing my shadows toward the love of my life.
Yes. Love.
Should anyone be surprised?
Poppy inhales my darkness like it’s her life’s blood, head casting back and eyelids fluttering in ecstasy. A wanting, ragged breath swells in her chest, breasts heaving in the light of the lanterns. Fuck me.
“Like what you see?” Poppy’s voice floats into my mind like music on air.
I smirk. “Feel my hard-on and you answer that.”
“Riven!” The blush that paints her cheeks is stunning.
“What? No one heard that but you.”
“I guess that’s true.” She shrugs. “Be as filthy as you want. I know I will be.” I bit the inside of my lip. How stupid have I been to have this in front of me for three years and think we could only be friends?
I grab her hand once more and lead her to the dance floor. Words like most stunning man I’ve seen, how did I get so lucky, and Fate, I need him rattle around my brain alongside images of us at the hot spring last night, inflating my ego to a nearly unsafe level.
“I can hear you.” I tug her body flush with mine, draping her arms around my neck and placing my hands very low on her back, even though the music demands more space and movement than a slow dance.
“I want you to.”
“I don’t deserve you.” My lips find purchase on her smooth forehead, her hand cradling my neck as if holding me there.
“You deserve everything.”
The tempo picks up again, and I can’t help but step back and match the energy. I know it’s ridiculous, but when I see the amusement twinkling in her eyes, I swear to Fate I’ll dance every day of my life as long as she keeps looking at me like this.
“Watching you dance,” her thoughts pause as if she’s taking a deep breath in to steady herself, “that’s the first time I knew I wanted you as more than a friend.”
“Oh yeah?” I feel my eyebrows lift. “You like this?” I slice my hands through the air, sliding confidently on my feet.
I bite my lip, attempting that sexy-without-trying thing while being deliberately playful.
Poppy laughs, eyes tracing up and down my body like a predator assessing its prey. And I fucking love it.
“You’re staring again.” Have I ever grinned this much in my life? I spin her once and then guide her hips subtly to move in time with mine.
“If I ever stop staring while you’re moving like that, have me committed.”
I snort. “Noted.”
The fire licks heat against my back, but it barely registers. Not when she’s here. Not when the cool brush of her skin steadies something in me I didn’t know was shaking.
Fate.
I can’t believe I almost lost her.
The thought lands again—heavier this time.
Real enough that my chest tightens like it’s happening all over again.
The knife. The pirates. The way her name sounded in my head when I thought it might be the last time I ever said it to her.
Even though I now know it wasn’t real, it still feels like it was.
We move without thinking—closer, then closer still—until there’s no space left between us. No room to pretend this is anything less than what it is. No fleeting distractions. No easy smiles or empty nights or badly timed jokes.
Her.
It was always her.
Every conversation that lasted too long. Every laugh that hit too deep. Every moment that felt quieter when she wasn’t there.
I swallow hard, something unfamiliar climbing up my throat. Not fear exactly, but almost. Because this? This is the part I’ve never done. The part where I don’t get to walk away untouched.
My hand comes up, almost hesitant, brushing her cheek like I’m confirming she’s real.
You almost lost this.
“Poppy,” I sigh softly, the name catching on something sharp in my chest.
For once, the words don’t come easily. For once, there’s no clever line waiting to save me. I breathe, this shuddering realization robbing me of my calm, collected swagger.
She looks up at me. “Yeah?” Her voice is somehow even more beautiful when it's coming from outside my head.
My pulse stutters. My usual confidence gone. Stripped clean, like it never existed at all.
“I—” I drag a hand through my hair, huffing out a quiet, disbelieving breath. “This is going to sound like I’ve lost what’s left of my mind, because it’s been one day, but…” My gaze finds hers again, and there’s nowhere to hide. No deflecting. No armor. “I love you.”
The words land between us, heavy and irreversible.
And it hits me, harder than any blow I’ve taken, that I’ve never said them before. Not when I was young and stupid enough to think I understood them. Not in the throes of passion. Not even when it would’ve been easy.
I’ve been holding onto them.
Waiting.
For her.
Her expression shifts, soft and bright and devastating all at once. The teasing curve of her mouth gentles into something softer.
Like she’s not surprised.
Like she’s been standing here, waiting for me to catch up.
“I know,” she says, voice warm, certain in a way I’ve never been, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I love you too.”
And just like that, everything I’ve ever been afraid of feels…
survivable. For a second, I don’t move. My first instinct is not to trust it.
My chest tightens like I’ve taken a hit I didn’t see coming, only this one doesn’t knock me down.
It splits me open. I search her face like there has to be a catch.
A joke I missed. A moment she’ll take back.
There isn’t.
Just her, looking at me like I’m not something temporary. Like I’m worth keeping.
Fate.
My hand lifts before I can think better of it, fingers brushing her jaw, slower than I’ve ever touched anything. Like she might disappear if I move too fast.
“You don’t—” I start, then stop, a quiet, disbelieving breath leaving me. “You really should reconsider. I’m a terrible long-term investment.”
It’s automatic, the joke. A shield. But I don’t pull my hand away—if anything, I step closer.
“I love you.” She doubles down, her hand over mine just in case I try to pull back. She’s not going to let me.
My thumb drags lightly along her cheek, grounding me in something real. Something that stayed. Because she stayed. Through it all, she stayed. Late night brawls, a dozen horrid girlfriends, business partners leaving, three failed Festivals. She stayed.
That realization hits deeper than the words. I let out a quiet huff of a laugh, shaking my head like I can’t quite wrap my mind around it.
“You realize,” I murmur, voice low, almost rough now, “I don’t know how to do this properly.
” No games. No jokes. No running away when things get hard.
My forehead dips down to hers, not quite touching, hovering there like I’m still asking for permission.
“But I’m not going anywhere,” I add, softer. “So you’re stuck teaching me.”
“You don’t have to know how,” she whispers, her voice warm and steady in a way mine isn’t.
“We’ll figure it out.” Her hand lifts, fingers brushing along my jaw like she’s memorizing me the way I’ve been memorizing her.
Like she’s choosing me. Fully. Without hesitation.
“I’m not going anywhere either,” she adds softly.