Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Riven
I gripped the edges of the sink, staring into the cracked mirror of the washroom.
The face staring back was older than a week ago. The lines around the eyes were etched deeper; the mouth was set in grim resolve.
Tomorrow, I was going back to Highspire. Back to the cage I had spent decades surviving.
I dried my hands on a rough towel. My belt felt lighter without the weight of the Vaelor dagger. I had given it to Selene because it was the only piece of protection I had left to give.
If I did my job right tomorrow, she wouldn’t need it. If I did my job right, Varessia would be too busy trying to unmake me to notice the girl slipping up the spine of the building.
I walked back into the small stone room. It was sparse and barren. A good place to wait for the end.
I sat on the edge of the bed, resting my elbows on my knees, staring at the floor.
I had made peace with the probability of my death years ago. It was a tactical inevitability—a calculation of risk versus reward. But tonight, the calculation felt different. It was personal.
Because for the first time in my life, I was fighting to ensure someone else survived.
The handle of my door turned.
I didn’t reach for my magic. I didn’t need to. A subtle heat pricked the scar over my heart before the latch even clicked.
Selene.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
She wore a short, plain tunic, the hem barely brushing her bare legs. The sight of it—dark cotton against her pale skin, the way it swallowed her frame—stole the breath from my lungs.
She closed the door and locked it. The sound was loud in the quiet room.
She stood against the heavy wood, the amber light of the glow-stones catching the restlessness vibrating under her skin.
The distance I’d tried to keep for weeks was already crumbling.
Holding her the night before—feeling her sleep wrapped in my shadows—had nearly broken my resolve.
Seeing her now, the last of my defences finally collapsed.
I couldn’t pretend to be just a soldier anymore.
I wanted to survive tomorrow. But watching the fire burn in her, I knew the priority.
If the choice was between the Shadow and the Light, the Light had to walk out of that tower.
I was the one who had to ensure she reached the top. And I was ready to pay the price.
“Stop it,” she said, her voice cutting through the silence.
“Stop what?”
“You’re weighing the cost.” She walked towards me, closing the distance to stand directly between my knees. “You’ve already decided that you’re the price of admission. Stop it.”
“Selene—“
“I mean it, Riven. Stop planning your funeral.”
She reached out, her hands cupping my face. Her palms were warm, calloused from the training, trembling slightly.
“We are going to win,” she whispered. “Both of us.”
I looked at the terrifying hope in her eyes. Perhaps she didn’t fully grasp the horror waiting for us in that lobby, but in this moment, my calculations didn’t matter.
Maybe she was right. The Highspire could wait. The end of the world could wait. I needed to stop preparing for death and start living, if only for tonight.
“We survive,” I said, repeating the promise I had made her yesterday.
“Show me,” she breathed.
She leaned down and kissed me.
It was a collision. Total and demanding.
My control, worn thin by days of proximity and years of isolation, snapped.
I grabbed her waist, guiding her down onto my lap. Her legs wrapped around me, drawing her flush against my chest.
When our mouths met, the connection snapped into place.
The feedback hit like a shockwave—a circuit closing behind my ribs. My shadows rose without my command, uncoiling from the corners of the room, drawn to her light.
I stood up, bringing her with me, my mouth devouring hers. I needed to touch her. Skin to skin.
I grabbed the hem of the tunic and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the floor.
She was naked underneath. The sight of her, bathed in the amber light, stole the air from my lungs.
“Beautiful,” I groaned.
Looking was a shallow mercy. I memorised her instead, tracing the geography of her body until every curve was burned into my mind.
My hands swept over her, following the slope of her shoulders, the dip of her waist. I cupped her breasts, their weight full and perfect in my palms, thumbing the peaks until they hardened against me.
I couldn’t resist. I lowered my head, taking one nipple into my mouth, sucking hard, tasting the magic pulsing beneath the surface. She cried out, her fingers tangling in my hair, arching her back to press herself deeper into my mouth.
She stripped me down with desperate efficiency, shoving my shirt off my shoulders, her hands roaming over my chest, my arms, learning the ink and the scars. Then her hand found me.
Her fingers wrapped around my length, cool against the burning heat of my skin. She stroked me, gentle at first, a testing caress that made my breath catch. Then she tightened her grip, moving faster, learning the rhythm that made my hips buck involuntarily.
“Selene,” I warned, my control fraying.
She didn’t stop. She shifted her weight, rising to straddle my hips, her gaze pinning me with fierce, undeniable intent.
She lifted her hips, guiding me to her entrance, and sank down.
Slowly. Inch by inch. Taking all of me.
I groaned, gripping her hips, watching her face as she filled herself with me. She threw her head back, a ragged gasp escaping her lips, her neck exposed, the vein fluttering wildly beneath the skin.
She set the pace. She began to move, riding me, grinding down hard. The friction was electric.
Our magic rose to meet the pace. As she moved, golden light began to bleed from her skin, cascading down her body like liquid fire.
My shadows erupted from the mattress, uncoiling like smoke, wrapping around her hips and anchoring her down harder onto me.
They caressed her thighs, her waist, reacting to every hitch in her breath.
We were tangled in a storm of gold and black, the air in the room vibrating with the force of it.
She moved faster, desperate, chasing the release. I held her hips, my fingers digging into the glowing skin, thrusting up to meet her, driving deep until she cried out, her inner muscles clamping down on me as she shattered.
She collapsed against my chest, panting, trembling in the aftershocks.
But the current between us only intensified. The magic hummed against my skin, a magnetic demand for total immersion. I needed to be closer.
I stood up, holding her against me, and laid her down on the mattress. I turned her over, curling my body around her back, fitting my shape to hers. I held her tight, my arm wrapping around her waist, my hand finding her breast again.
I entered her slowly, filling her completely, sealing the bond.
She gasped, arching back into me, her head resting on my shoulder.
When I began to move, the magic erupted.
The tether roared between us.
Golden light cascaded down her skin, illuminating the sweat sheeting her body. My shadows rose to meet it, weaving through the brilliance, binding us together in a storm of amber and obsidian.
The sensation consumed me. I sent my shadows lower, letting them slide between her legs, adding a cool, phantom caress to the heat of our bodies.
She cried out, her hips grinding back against me.
And then I saw it.
On her left shoulder blade. The scar.
It started to shine. At first, a pearlescent shimmer under the skin. As her magic surged, turning her skin to gold, the light of the scar intensified.
I watched it, mesmerised. Beneath the angry tissue of the burn, a shape was forming in molten silver—a jagged, broken arc.
My mind stuttered, unable to track where I had seen that curve before, but the sight of it felt like a memory I hadn’t lived.
It was a fragment, an unfinished piece of something ancient.
It reacted to me, awakening under my touch and the raw pressure of my magic. The pleasure spiked, turning blinding as my shadows answered her call, tightening around us in a frantic embrace.
I felt my own magic reaching out to find its mirror in her. It pulsed from my chest, answering the pull of that silver arc on her shoulder.
A sudden, crushing gravity took hold. It was a terrifying, immediate recognition—a sense that the hollow space I had carried for years was finally colliding with the only thing capable of filling it. I stood on the edge of a threshold where the boundaries of my own soul began to bleed into hers.
Then she turned her head. Her eyes were open, burning with that molten gold. She met the intensity with fierce certainty. She saw the same truth I did. She looked right at me, and she drew the shadows in.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped, the words breaking against the air. “Don’t you dare stop.”
The words were a command to break the last seal.
I surrendered. I poured everything I was into the starving space between us. The circuit detonated.
A torrent of power eclipsed the room. My shadow crashed into her light, two storms merging into one crushing, radiant pressure. It vibrated through my bones, rendering me weightless.
I felt her shatter. A cascade of pure light that vibrated through me as if it were my own.
“Selene,” I choked out.
I followed her over the edge. The rush dragged my focus out of my body and pinned it to the warmth of hers. I collapsed against her back, burying my face in the curve of her neck. My heart hammered against her spine—a thundering rhythm that was no longer just mine.
The room was silent, save for the distant drip of condensation.