Chapter 7
POV: Amara
Riven cut her off with a sharp look.
Lyra looked deeply entertained by that.
“What?” I repeated suspiciously.
“None of your business, Doctor Vale.”
And just like that—
The walls slammed back into place.
Cold.
Controlled.
Untouchable.
Before I could question it further, Riven pushed away from the doorway.
“Get some rest,” he said quietly.
Then he left.
And for some reason, watching him walk away made the strange ache inside me pulse all over again.
The medicine helped enough that I finally slept.
Not peacefully.
But enough.
Unfortunately, my dreams remained committed to ruining my life.
This time, Riven stood in front of me instead of behind me.
Close enough that I could feel the heat of his body.
Close enough that I could finally touch him.
My fingers curled into the front of his dark shirt while his hand slid slowly along my waist, possessive and careful all at once.
Then his mouth lowered toward mine.
The kiss exploded through me.
Warm.
Deep.
Devastating.
Heat surged violently beneath my skin while instinct screamed for more—
I woke breathless again.
Wonderful.
At least the medicine kept the pressure from becoming unbearable this time.
Barely.
The next morning passed in a blur of work again.
Michael looked personally delighted every time I suggested another improvement to the mining systems, and honestly?
I was having the time of my life.
The mines fascinated me endlessly.
Huge extraction elevators disappeared deep into the mountain while refined silver flowed through advanced processing systems I’d only dreamed of working with before.
At one point, I genuinely stopped in the middle of the lower mining platform just to stare around me.
“This place is insane,” I breathed.
Michael grinned proudly. “Good insane?”
“The best kind.”
The more time I spent inside Oak territory, the more I understood why House Oak held so much influence.
Everything here functioned efficiently.
Powerfully.
Even the workers seemed proud of what they built together.
And somehow…
That made me understand Riven better too.
A little.
Not completely.
Never completely.
But enough to see the weight he carried everywhere he went.
By dinner, exhaustion finally began catching up to me.
I entered the dining hall expecting noise and conversation.
Instead, I found only Riven sitting at the table alone.
My body reacted instantly.
The warmth beneath my skin sharpened hard enough to make my steps falter.
No.
No no no.
The medicine was supposed to be helping.
Riven looked up the second I entered.
His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
“You’re not feeling better.”
Not even a greeting.
Straight to terrifyingly accurate observations.
I forced myself farther into the room anyway. “I’m fine.”
Lie.
A complete lie.
Because standing near him immediately made the heat inside me worsen again.
Riven watched me silently for another moment like he knew I was lying and disliked it.
Then Lyra entered with Guinevere and Joseph close behind her.
“There she is,” Joseph said cheerfully before noticing my expression. “Oh. Still dying?”
“I’d appreciate if everyone stopped referring to my suffering so casually.”
Guinevere patted my shoulder sympathetically while Lyra handed me another glass.
I eyed the liquid suspiciously. “It still tastes terrible, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
I sighed dramatically before drinking it anyway.
The relief came gradually again.
Not enough.
But enough to loosen the sharpest edge of the ache twisting through me.
See?
That proved it.
The reaction near Riven probably only happened because the medicine was wearing off before dinner.
That had to be it.
Probably.
Joseph pointed toward me while sitting down. “I’m still emotionally affected by what she did to our reporting systems.”
Guinevere nodded solemnly. “My paperwork no longer makes me want to commit crimes.”
“I’m honored.”
“She also fixed extraction losses that existed longer than Joseph’s emotional maturity,” Lyra added.
“Rude.”
I laughed softly despite myself.
The teasing should’ve embarrassed me more considering everyone at this table knew about my heat now.
Instead, weirdly…
It felt warm.
Comfortable.
Like they weren’t mocking me.
Just including me.
Even Riven stepped in quietly when Joseph started opening his mouth again.
“Leave her alone.”
The table went suspiciously silent for half a second.
Joseph looked delighted.
Guinevere looked smug.
Lyra looked one second away from saying something deeply inappropriate.
Meanwhile I nearly choked on my drink.
Riven, apparently realizing what he’d just done, went completely expressionless again.
“I meant,” he said flatly, “she’s already uncomfortable enough.”
Too late.
Joseph grinned slowly. “Of course you did.”
I stared very hard at my plate to avoid combusting.
After dinner, Lyra linked her arm through mine before I could escape.
“You’re coming with us.”
“With who?”
“Girls’ night,” Guinevere declared.
I blinked. “That’s a thing?”
“It is now.”
An hour later, we sat together in one of Lyra’s private sitting rooms with wine glasses scattered across the table while rain tapped softly against the windows.
The atmosphere felt warm.
Easy.
Safe.
And unfortunately, the conversation turned directly toward me.
“So,” Guinevere said while pouring more wine, “you really never had your heat before now?”
I groaned softly into my glass. “Can we discuss literally anything else?”
“No,” Lyra answered immediately.
Traitors.
I sighed dramatically. “No. I didn’t.”
“And you genuinely never…” Guinevere hesitated delicately. “Wanted anyone?”
I stared at the wine for a second before shaking my head slowly.
“Not really.”
Both women blinked.
“I know that sounds strange,” I admitted quietly. “But I spent most of my life studying. Working. Existing around silver constantly.” I shrugged lightly. “The doctors thought it may have suppressed certain instincts.”
Lyra frowned thoughtfully. “Including desire.”
“Probably.”
Guinevere tilted her head slightly. “Until now.”
Heat crawled instantly into my face.
Oh no.
“Oh my God,” Lyra whispered immediately.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I absolutely did not.”
Guinevere looked deeply delighted now. “There’s someone.”
I buried my face briefly in my hands.
This was horrible.
“It’s embarrassing,” I muttered.
Lyra leaned forward immediately. “Who?”
“No.”
“Amara.”
“No.”
Guinevere gasped softly. “Wait.”
Both women looked at each other.
Then slowly toward me.
My silence betrayed me completely.
Lyra’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.”
I wanted to evaporate.
“It’s Riven?” Guinevere whisper-yelled.
“I hate both of you.”
Neither of them looked remotely sorry.
“Amara,” Lyra said carefully, trying—and failing—not to smile, “that actually makes sense.”
“It does not.”
“He’s an unmated Alpha,” Guinevere pointed out. “The pheromones alone can affect heat responses.”
“Yes!” I said immediately, grateful for logic. “Exactly. That’s probably all this is.”
Except even I didn’t fully believe that anymore.
Because this didn’t feel hormonal.
It felt personal.
Dangerously personal.
Still, I grabbed onto the explanation anyway.
“It’s probably some biological reaction to authority or Alpha genetics or—” I stopped abruptly, horrified with myself. “Oh my God. Why am I saying these things out loud?”
Both women burst into laughter.
I covered my burning face immediately.
“This is the worst night of my life.”
“No,” Lyra said warmly through her laughter. “You’re just finally acting your age instead of seventy-three.”
And despite my embarrassment—
I laughed too.