The mirror was cracked.
Riven stood in front of it, sweat beading down his temple as he stared at his own reflection—red marks along his throat, bite marks just above his collarbone, scratches curving down his ribcage like clawed declarations. The room still smelled like him—like Cassian. The kind of scent that lingered in your lungs, thick with heat, regret, and a hunger that wouldn't quit.
He turned the water on cold and splashed his face, hoping to shake it off. But no amount of ice could numb what burned inside.
A knock came at the bathroom door.
"Riven," Cassian said quietly. "You okay?"
No, he wasn't. Not even close. But he opened the door anyway.
Cassian looked like he'd been pacing—hair a mess, shirt untucked, knuckles red. From the way his gaze dropped immediately to Riven's neck, the bruises, the raw skin—they both remembered.
Last night wasn't gentle.
It had been a storm. A violent, desperate collision. No safewords. No barriers. Just need and possession and the terrifying pull of wanting someone so much it shredded your sanity.
"I lost control," Riven said, voice hoarse.
"So did I," Cassian admitted.
They stared at each other, the memory of snarled commands, hands around throats, moaned curses still fresh between them. But neither looked away.
"You don't scare me," Cassian whispered, stepping forward.
"You should."
Cassian's hands cupped Riven's jaw. "I'd rather walk through fire than not touch you again."
And Riven broke. He surged forward, grabbing Cassian's shirt, pushing him up against the wall with a raw, guttural groan. "Then burn with me."
Their mouths crashed together—violent, greedy. Cassian's hand tangled in Riven's hair, tugging until he gasped, his throat exposed. He didn't hesitate—bit down hard enough to leave another mark.
Riven shoved him toward the bed, climbing on top like a man starved. "You want me like this?" he growled. "When I'm on the edge of ripping you apart?"
"I want all of you," Cassian hissed, pulling his shirt off.
Riven dragged his nails down Cassian's chest, leaving red trails. "Then take it."
Clothes were thrown across the room. Hands searched, grabbed, squeezed. Lips marked territory. Cassian flipped them, grinding down, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths ragged.
Cassian's mouth moved down Riven's chest, slow, taunting. "You think you're the only one losing control?" He licked along a bruise. "You think I don't wake up aching for you?"
Riven gasped as Cassian's mouth found him, hot and merciless.
"Cass—"
"No. You don't get to talk," he growled, lifting Riven's legs, wrapping them around his waist. "You've been driving me insane for weeks."
Riven tried to push up but Cassian pinned him down, lined himself up, and thrust in with a groan so deep it rattled both of them.
The rhythm was brutal. Deep. Overwhelming.
Riven cried out, bucking beneath him, fingers clawing at Cassian's back. "You're gonna ruin me—"
"I already have," Cassian snarled.
Riven came first, eyes rolling back, body trembling beneath the weight of everything they refused to say out loud. Cassian followed, biting into Riven's shoulder as he spilled inside him, breath ragged, arms shaking.
Minutes passed.
Riven lay there, barely able to breathe, but for the first time in days… calm.
"I hate how much I need this," he whispered.
Cassian turned his head to meet his eyes. "Then we're both damned."
But his arms wrapped around Riven anyway. As if he was the only salvation that made any sense.