Chapter 14
The armory beneath the estate smelled like steel and stormwater, metal from the enchanted blades lining the walls. Riven stood in front of a rack of combat vests, strapping on reinforced plating while trying not to glance over at Thane.
Trying—and failing.
Thane was already half-armored, rolling up the sleeves of his undershirt to buckle his shoulder rig. His muscles flexed with the movement, lean and hard and tattoo-laced, and Riven’s throat felt tight. Thane looked like he was born in armor, the gear all but painted onto his body.
Riven forced his eyes down, focusing on his own gear. “So what exactly are we walking into?”
“A lead on Kieran,” Thane replied without looking up. “He’s been seen near the edge of the drowned district, paying off a lower-tier broker. Our man inside thinks a meet is happening tonight.”
“And the plan is…what? Sit in a van and glare him into submission?”
Thane’s mouth curved just slightly. “We observe. We track. If we can take him without alerting anyone higher up the chain, we do it clean. If not—”
“Then we call in the cavalry?”
Thane flexed his fingers. “Then we improvise.”
That didn’t comfort Riven. Nothing about improvise ever did when it came to working the streets. He needed meticulous planning to be successful at his scores; anything less meant certain disaster.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside.
A moment later, a small crew of four arrived—faceless in identical dark armor, weapons strapped and helms tucked under their arms. House soldiers.
Disposable muscle. Thane barely acknowledged them as he clipped the last strap of his vest and turned toward the exit.
“You ride with me,” he told Riven, voice unreadable.
Riven almost asked if he ever got tired of being in control of everything—but swallowed the comment. No point poking the Beast right before they got locked in a tin box together for gods-knew how long.
The stakeout van was a modified freight vehicle, disguised as utility maintenance. The rear had been converted into a mobile ops unit, but the front cab was cramped—barely enough space for two grown men and the tension simmering between them.
Riven sat in the passenger seat, legs spread, trying to keep his thigh from brushing Thane’s. Maybe not trying hard enough.
Thane tapped through a feed on a holo-pad, his body lit in flickering blue reflected from the screen. The patrol crews had already fanned out to watch the perimeter. They were alone up front, watching the narrow alley across the street where the target might appear.
“You always send in others to die for you first?” Riven asked after a while, too tired to keep the edge out of his voice.
Thane glanced over. “I don’t send anyone I wouldn’t follow.”
“That’s not a yes or a no.”
Thane didn’t rise to the bait, attention focused on the feed.
Silence stretched. But this wasn’t the brittle silence from the ride back days ago.
This one…simmered. Riven could feel it in the stale air of the cab, in the way Thane’s leg pressed into his like it belonged there.
In the way the shadows outside seemed to push closer around the windows, like even the night wanted to watch them.
“You’ve done this a lot?” Riven asked, needing to break the silence more than he needed to ignore Thane Virellien.
Thane made a soft sound. “Too much.”
“And yet here you are, babysitting me on a stakeout.”
Another beat of silence.
“I don’t babysit,” Thane said. “I don’t trust anyone else to watch your back.”
That startled Riven enough to glance at him. Thane wasn’t looking at the screen anymore. He was looking at Riven, and there was nothing veiled in that stare now.
“You think this is a game?” Thane asked, voice molten. “You think I’m not aware of every twitch in your body, every look you throw when you think I’m not paying attention?”
Riven’s breath hitched. “No,” he said quietly. “I think you notice too much.”
Thane’s voice dropped an octave. “Then you know I’m not blind to the fact you’re hard every time I speak to you like this.”
Riven froze. Heat prickled at the base of his spine. He wanted to deny it.
He didn’t.
“Your hands were shaking when you strapped your vest on,” Thane added, voice rough velvet now. “Not from nerves. From want.”
Riven clenched his jaw. “You’re so fucking full of yourself.”
Thane leaned in slowly, like stalking prey, until his face was just inches away. His breath was warm against Riven’s lips. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Say the word. Right now. I’ll take you in the back of this van and fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”
Riven’s breath hitched. His whole body went still—except his cock, which throbbed painfully against his pants, aching for friction. For this dangerous, volatile man.
He could smell Thane’s skin—clean metal and something darker. Their mouths were barely a breath apart. One twitch forward and they’d be kissing. Riven wanted it—wanted him—so badly his chest hurt from it.
His lips parted.
One word. Just one.
But his pride held him still, and Thane knew it.
He smiled—small, wicked. “Pity.”
He pulled back an inch, though his hand brushed Riven’s thigh in the movement, just enough to leave Riven burning.
“I need your head clear,” Thane said, voice steady again.
Riven’s voice came out rough. “Yeah, you’re not helping with that.”
“You think you’re ready?”
“I’m fine.”
“No,” Thane murmured. “You’re hard.”
Riven flushed—angry, embarrassed, aroused all over again. “Fuck you.”
Thane smirked. “Eventually.”
The van was too silent after that, the tension frayed but still smoldering. Riven shifted restlessly in his seat and tried to will his cock down, his skin too flushed for the stale air inside the cramped metal box.
He needed to think of something else. Anything else.
“The twins,” he said finally, staring out at the alley. “Why them?”
Thane glanced over. “What about them?”
“You could’ve left them on the streets. Why bring them in?”
Thane didn’t answer right away. His expression sobered. “Because they were drowning in a system that eats half-breeds alive. And they still fought. Cassian had a shattered rib and still threw himself between his brother and a riot shield. I respected that.”
Riven studied him. “You saved them out of pity?”
“No,” Thane said flatly. “I pulled them out because they reminded me of what survival looks like. And because if I didn’t, someone else would’ve used them up and spit them out.”
Riven snorted. “What makes you think you’re not using them?”
Thane’s jaw flexed. “I am. But I don’t punish them for what they are. I give them a place to be dangerous.”
That quieted Riven. It wasn’t gentle, but it felt like honesty, and he did not expect that from the Beast of House Virellien.
He looked away. “So they’re not the only strays you’ve picked up.”
“No,” Thane said, voice lower now. “Just the only ones who haven’t tried to bite me yet.”
Riven ignored the way that made his stomach twist. He focused back on the screen. “You ever give them a reason?”
Thane didn’t respond. Just tapped the edge of the console, eyes on the alley.
Something flickered in the feed, a shadow moving wrong. A figure slipped into the edge of the frame. Kieran.
Riven snapped to alert. The moment cracked, heat replaced by adrenaline that couldn’t quite wash away the taste of the air between them.