The rain outside Haven's tower clawed at the windows like desperate fingers. Inside, the silence between Riven and Cassian was louder than thunder.
Cassian stood by the fireplace, a crystal tumbler in hand, amber liquid swirling untouched. He hadn't looked at Riven since the call ended.
Valen's name hung in the air like poison.
"You met with him," Cassian finally said, voice hoarse. "Behind my back."
Riven's throat tightened. "It wasn't like that."
"You lied to me."
A beat. Then another.
"I protected you," Riven said, stepping closer, rain-soaked and raw. "He came to me. I didn't plan it."
Cassian turned slowly, his eyes darker than the storm. "And what did he offer you in return? A deal? A kiss? Power?"
The accusation burned deeper than any slap. Riven's jaw clenched. "I did it for us."
"Us?" Cassian laughed, sharp and broken. "There is no us if I can't trust you."
But even in the fury, there was hunger—something deeper and more dangerous.
Riven crossed the room, closing the distance between them like a pulled wire.
"You still want me," he said, voice low.
Cassian didn't move, but his breath caught. His jaw flexed. Riven could feel the tension radiating off him, sharp and wild.
"I want the truth," Cassian growled.
"You want me more."
The next moment was fire.
Cassian grabbed Riven by the collar, slamming him against the wall with a kiss that tasted of whiskey and war. Desperation. Fury. Need. Hands tangled in wet hair. Jackets hit the floor. Lips bit and bruised.
Riven's fingers dug into Cassian's back like anchors, pulling him closer as if he could take the pain away by drowning in him.
"You still lied," Cassian whispered against his skin.
"I still burned for you," Riven breathed back.
Their shadows danced in flickering firelight—rough, hungry, fighting and falling all at once. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't clean. It was the ache of betrayal wrapped in the fever of obsession.
And when it was over, they didn't speak.
Just the rise and fall of breath, the thunder outside, and the weight of a truth that no amount of desire could hide:
Trust was cracking—and something darker was creeping in through the splinters.