Morning came like a sigh against scorched skin.
The embers of the night still lingered—on the sheets, in the air, in the ache in Riven's hips. But it wasn't just the sex that lingered.
It was the surrender.
It was the silence that had screamed louder than any fight.
Riven woke to the scent of coffee and the sound of Cassian humming low under his breath, somewhere just beyond the doorway. For a moment, Riven just lay there, arms draped over the rumpled sheets, breath steady.
But then he remembered.
Silas.
The memory hit like a wave—his voice, his touch, his threats. And the cold crept in again, curling around Riven's spine. He sat up, letting the sheet fall, revealing marks that hadn't had time to fade. Some from love. Some from war.
Cassian entered with a mug in one hand, towel slung around his neck, hair damp. He paused when he saw Riven upright, eyes shadowed.
"Bad dream?" Cassian asked, setting the coffee on the nightstand.
"No." Riven's voice was rough. "Just remembering."
Cassian's gaze darkened. "Silas?"
Riven didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Cassian moved to him slowly and cupped the side of his face. "He doesn't own your story, Riven. Not anymore."
Riven leaned into the touch, something breaking and mending in the same breath. "Then rewrite it with me."
Cassian didn't hesitate.
He kissed him like a man starved. Like a man burning.
Tongues met with heat, hands pulling, grasping, dragging one another back into the flames they'd both tried to escape. Cassian shoved him down into the sheets, teeth scraping along Riven's jaw as he growled, "Mine. Every part of you."
Riven responded with a gasp, back arching. "Then prove it."
Cassian did.
His mouth devoured every inch—biting down on Riven's inner thigh, then soothing it with a wet lick. His fingers worked him open with slick precision, dragging moans from Riven's throat like prayers.
When Cassian finally pressed into him, it was fast, hard, and desperate.
They moved in tandem, breathless and broken, trying to reclaim something more than just release—trying to rebuild the pieces they'd almost lost.
Cassian gripped Riven's hips, thrusting deeper, harder, chasing that perfect edge.
Riven cried out, his fingers clawing at Cassian's shoulders. "More—don't stop—"
Cassian obeyed.
And when Riven came, spilling hot between them, Cassian wasn't far behind—buried deep, pulsing with a possessive growl. He stayed there, forehead pressed to Riven's, chests heaving, bodies trembling.
When the shaking subsided, Cassian whispered against Riven's lips, "We burn. But we don't break."
Riven looked up at him, eyes soft and fierce.
"Then let's burn everything down. Together."