Chapter 38 #3
“Neither am I,” I laugh, but as I look at his deadpan expression, a thought occurs. An awful, heartbreaking thought that makes me lose my smile instantly.
“Riven, have you ever been hugged before?”
He shakes his head. “My step mother wasn’t exactly affectionate. My family kept me more like a pet, not a child. I guess I got so used to a lack of love I never thought to seek it in others.”
Tears prick at my eyes at his confession, and he tilts his head at me with a frown. “That upsets you?”
Of course it does. But I don’t answer with words.
Instead, I do the thing I usually hate so much, and slowly wrap my arms around him, holding him tight.
He stands completely motionless, like he’s not even breathing, but then slowly he starts to relax, and his arms tentatively weave round me too.
We stand there silently, holding each other, and to my utter shock, the anxiety I usually feel at being touched doesn’t surface. If anything, it feels…right.
“Why do you always wear this?” he murmurs, bringing a hand up to tug on my hood.
“It helps me avoid the unwanted attention my hair brings,” I answer, my voice muffled against his chest as I let him pull it off my head.
“Fuck what other people think,” he growls, his lips against my hair. “It’s beautiful.”
A tear rolls down my cheek and my breathing steadies, Riven’s thumbs brushing gently against the fabric of my cloak, grounding me. The trembling in my limbs begins to ease, replaced by a different kind of shakiness entirely.
He exhales, a rough, quiet sound—part relief, part frustration. “I couldn’t see you in my visions once you crossed into Lunoreth. I thought something happened to you,” he breathes.
I wrap my arms around him tighter and he pulls me closer, slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid I’ll shatter. I sink into him, feeling the way his heartbeat kicks hard beneath my cheek. His breath feathers against my hair, sending a shudder down my spine.
What began as comfort deepens by degrees, and neither of us makes any move to let go. Eventually, I draw back enough to look up at him. His forehead almost touches mine and our breaths mingle in the cold, still air.
“Octavia…” he says, voice low, strained, as if my name alone is a dangerous sin. “If you keep looking at me like that I’m going to do something we’ll both regret.”
My breath hitches.
“You’re trouble,” I whisper, leaning closer, and he smirks.
“And you’re bored without it.”
I don’t know who moves first. Maybe both of us do. The space between us simply disappears. Our lips meet softly with an unspoken question.
I answer it, tilting closer.
His hand comes up to cup the side of my face, tentative at first, then steadier when I don’t pull away.
It’s slow, deliberate, almost fragile, like both of us know that once we cross this line, we can’t come back from it.
But I’m done feeling powerless. Now I know the truth, I know who I am, and right now, I know what I want.
I deepen the kiss and he groans against my mouth, pulling me closer, our bodies flush against each other. Heat pools low in my stomach, and I scratch my nails down his chest, pulling at his shirt.
He breaks away to kiss up my neck, his stubble grazing my ear as he whispers. “Say the word, and I’ll have you up against that wall in five seconds.”
My laugh is broken off as he bites my earlobe hard and a whimper escapes me. “I’m sure you would love to hear me beg, but I refuse to be hurried,” I murmur with a smile, and he inhales a shaky breath as a dark chuckle escapes him.
“Hmm…you’re dangerous, aren’t you?”
I give him a feral smile. “Only if you ask nicely.”
“Fuck,” he groans, his chest heaving as he stares at me through dark, hooded eyes.
With a growl he steps us back until my back hits the wall and he lifts me up, my legs wrapping round him as he pushes his body hard against me.
A whimper escapes me as I writhe at the delicious friction of his hardness between my legs, and our kissing becomes frenzied.
I run my hand through his disheveled black hair, realising he’s still hiding behind his illusion.
I pull back slightly, panting against his lips, his dark, heated eyes searching mine.
“Let me see you, the real you,” I whisper, bringing my other hand up to cup his cheek, my fingers grazing against his stubble.
He hesitates, uncertainty flickering in his eyes before he lets his illusion fall, his ears growing to points, his black hair lightening to a teal sheen. He’s so beautiful, it’s breathtaking.
He slams his lips against mine and I grapple at his shirt, pulling at the buttons clumsily, and he chuckles darkly, breaking away to kiss up my neck.
“I’m going to ruin you,” he growls into my ear, gently biting on it. “And you’re going to thank me for it.”
I moan, grinding myself against him–
“Well. Isn’t this adorable.”
We jolt apart like we’ve been burned.
Riven drops me back to my feet and I spin toward the doorway, heart lurching into my throat, panting heavily. Xavier stands there, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, his expression carved from molten fury.