The gala glittered with decadence, a grand illusion of elegance masking the tension seething beneath every polite smile. Cassian stood near the marble staircase, a vision in obsidian silk, his expression unreadable beneath a mask of practiced charm. But Riven knew better. He'd memorized every twitch of Cassian's jaw, every flicker in those storm-gray eyes.
Tonight, something was wrong.
"Enjoying the view?" came a low voice behind him.
Riven turned to find Valen, draped in midnight blue, his lips curved in that signature half-smirk—equal parts temptation and danger. "Always," Riven replied coolly, ignoring the prickle of warning down his spine.
Valen's gaze slid past Riven toward Cassian. "He looks lovely in shadows, doesn't he? But shadows have teeth, and so do I."
Riven didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he tilted his head. "What game are you playing?"
Valen leaned in, his breath brushing Riven's ear. "The kind where the winner takes everything. Including you."
The words settled between them like velvet laced with thorns.
---
Cassian felt it the moment Riven's attention shifted. That invisible thread between them tugged tight, vibrating with dissonance. He turned and froze. Valen was too close. Riven wasn't pulling away. A storm churned in Cassian's chest, fierce and ancient.
He descended the stairs, each step deliberate, his presence crackling like a match held to dry silk. "Valen," he greeted, voice a blade wrapped in velvet. "Still trying to steal what you never deserved?"
Valen chuckled. "Some things can't be stolen. Only offered."
Riven stepped back, caught between them, heart hammering. Cassian's eyes locked with his—possessive, pleading, a silent question. Are you still mine?
Riven didn't answer. Not yet.
---
Later that night, in the hush of their suite, the silence throbbed between them. Cassian stood near the window, shirt unbuttoned, tension radiating from his frame.
"You let him near you," he said quietly.
"I didn't let anything happen," Riven snapped. "You're the one who's been keeping secrets."
Cassian turned, his voice low and rough. "Because I was trying to protect you."
"From what? Him? Or from the parts of yourself you think I can't handle?"
The air cracked between them. A slow, aching step. Another.
Cassian reached for him, and this time, Riven didn't resist.
Their kiss was not gentle—it was desperate, a clash of mouths and breath and unspoken things. Cassian's hands gripped Riven's waist like he was anchoring himself from drowning. Riven's fingers tangled in Cassian's hair, pulling him closer, demanding truth with every fevered kiss.
"I don't want anyone else," Cassian whispered against Riven's throat. "Even when I'm drowning in lies—I still reach for you."
Riven's voice broke against his skin. "Then stop pushing me away."
They collapsed onto the velvet chaise, wrapped in each other, breathless, burning. Not in surrender—but in defiance of everything trying to pull them apart.
And outside the window, Valen watched from the shadows, his smile thin and knowing.