The gala was all glittering masks, false smiles, and danger cloaked in velvet.
Riven adjusted the obsidian mask over his face, eyes scanning the crowd like a predator. Cassian stood across the ballroom, dressed in midnight silk, charm oozing from every movement—but Riven could see it.
The tension. The lie beneath his smile.
He was hiding something.
But tonight wasn't for confrontation. Not yet. Tonight was for seduction.
The music swelled—low, sensual violins—and Riven moved through the crowd with grace and purpose. When he reached Cassian, he didn't speak. He just took his hand and led him from the ballroom, down marble halls, until they reached a forgotten room lit only by the glow of a chandelier and their shared hunger.
Cassian barely had time to breathe before Riven slammed him against the wall.
"You've been keeping things from me," Riven growled, voice low, trembling with restrained fury and lust. "But that mask won't save you now."
Cassian's smirk was breathless. "Then strip it off me, king."
Clothes flew—buttons snapped, silk tore. Riven's mouth devoured his, bruising and desperate. He kissed like he wanted to erase the space between them, like he wanted Cassian to remember who owned his body.
Hands roamed with practiced hunger. Riven shoved him down onto the velvet chaise, straddling him. He pinned Cassian's wrists above his head and thrust against him, hard and slow, letting the friction speak where words wouldn't.
"You think I don't notice when you hide things?" Riven hissed. "But your body always tells me the truth."
Cassian moaned as Riven ground into him, tongue tracing the line of his jaw, then down his throat. Teeth scraped skin. Fingers clawed over muscle.
When Riven took him into his mouth, it was punishment and worship all in one—slick, wet, and merciless. Cassian writhed, breath shattering, a string of curses falling from his lips.
"Fuck—Riven—!"
But Riven didn't stop.
He teased and devoured, tongue dancing until Cassian was begging, hips bucking, eyes wild behind the mask. When Cassian was close, Riven pulled away, dragged his tongue up his lover's stomach, and whispered:
"Not until you tell me what you're hiding."
Cassian's body trembled, eyes dark with defiance and need.
"I can't."
Riven's growl was low, dangerous. "Then I'll fuck it out of you."
He flipped Cassian onto his stomach, spread him wide, and entered him with one slow, punishing thrust. Cassian gasped—half pain, half ecstasy. Riven gripped his hips, driving into him with fierce, unrelenting rhythm.
The moans turned to cries, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room.
Cassian was undone—mask sliding off, truth cracking at the edges.
And when they came, together, screaming each other's names like a vow and a threat, the silence that followed was deafening.
Riven collapsed beside him, chest heaving.
Cassian turned, sweat glistening on his chest, lips parted.
"I saw him," he whispered finally. "In the crowd."
Riven's heart stopped.
"Who?"
Cassian swallowed.
"My brother."