Chapter 54
Thane stood from the bed abruptly, that barely-contained fury back in every taut line of his body.
“Where are you going?” Riven asked, the question escaping before he even fully understood the panic curling in his chest.
Thane didn’t look at him when he answered. “To the house.” Riven pushed the blankets aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The floor was cold, and his balance wobbled for a moment, but he forced himself upright anyway.
“No,” he said, voice hoarse but steady. “I’m going with you.”
Thane spun on him in a flash. “Get back in the fucking bed.”
Riven didn’t move. “No.”
A sharp growl left Thane’s throat. “Are you going to be disobedient again?”
“Only if you make me,” Riven shot back, lifting his chin. He wasn’t sure where the courage came from—maybe it was recklessness, maybe it was love, or fear, or the way the room felt empty the moment Thane had started to walk away. He knew one thing—he couldn’t let Thane go alone.
Thane stalked across the room, his stride fast and lethal, every inch of him vibrating with frustration. He came to a halt just in front of Riven, so close the heat of him washed over Riven’s skin.
He loomed, dark and furious, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful.
Riven refused to look away. His legs trembled beneath him, but not from fear.
From the force of how much he felt in this moment.
The tension between them curled tight, thick as smoke.
He could smell the faint trace of Thane’s cologne, could see the way his pupils dilated as he looked down at him.
Thane wasn’t unaffected. That was what Riven clung to.
“Do you have a death wish?” Thane asked, voice low and dangerous.
Riven swallowed hard. “I’m not afraid of dying if I’m with you.”
Thane’s hand lashed out—not in violence, but in a swift, firm grip, fingers wrapping around Riven’s jaw.
Riven’s breath hitched as Thane tilted his chin up, forcing their gazes to lock.
“I need to know you’ll listen,” Thane said. “I need to know that if I tell you to hide, to run, to obey, you will. Or I’m not bringing you.”
“I will,” Riven said without hesitation. “Whatever you say. I promise.”
Thane searched his face, as if testing that vow, peeling back the layers to see if Riven was bluffing. Whatever he found there must’ve satisfied him, because the sharpness in his eyes dulled just a fraction.
“Good,” Thane murmured. He let go of Riven’s face, turning back toward the door. “Wait here.”
Riven sat on the edge of the bed, chest heaving slightly, heart racing. It had been a moment—just a handful of words, a touch—but it left him buzzing.
But then five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Riven stared at the door, growing colder by the minute. The ache in his leg returned with cruel persistence. A voice in his head whispered that Thane had tricked him. Lied to get him back in bed. Done what he always did—taken control away.
Riven was about to push himself up again when the door opened.
Thane stepped through, arms full.
He tossed a bundle onto the bed—black pants, a shirt, a jacket thick enough to ward off the chill of evening.
“You’re really letting me come?” Riven asked, stunned.
“I shouldn’t,” Thane muttered, brushing past him toward the windows to check the blinds. “You’re still healing. But you’re going to keep being an insufferable little shit if I leave you behind, and we don’t have time for another scene.”
Riven couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips. “You love it.”
Thane turned to him, one brow arched, mouth curved into something between a smirk and a snarl. “Don’t push your luck.”
Riven moved stiffly, but with purpose, reaching for the clothes. “Are you going to watch?”
“I should,” Thane said. “Make sure you don’t fall on your ass. But then you’d whimper and say I was hovering again.”
“I might say that anyway,” Riven said under his breath.
Thane didn’t move. He did watch. His eyes lingered far too long as Riven stripped out of the loose sleepwear Aeris had given him and pulled on the fitted pants and long-sleeved shirt. Every movement felt slow, deliberate, especially under the heat of Thane’s gaze.
“You done?” Thane asked, voice a little rougher now.
Riven straightened, jacket in hand. “Yeah.”
Thane crossed to him again. Not as fast this time, but with no less force.
He reached out and zipped Riven’s jacket for him, tugging the collar into place, hands brushing his chest. His fingers didn’t linger, not quite. But his eyes did.
“You don’t leave my side,” Thane said. “If I say down, you go down. If I say stay, you plant your ass. If I say shoot, you shoot.”
Riven nodded. “I already promised.”
“You did,” Thane said quietly. “And I intend to hold you to it.”
There was a strange beat of stillness between them then. Riven wasn’t sure what he expected—maybe another kiss, maybe a lecture, maybe some kind of reassurance.
But all he got was Thane’s hand lifting to his face again, this time slower, fingers brushing over his jaw. A quiet, possessive touch that made Riven’s stomach knot in a way that had nothing to do with nerves.
“Ready?” Thane asked.
Riven nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”
And with that, Thane opened the door.