The storm had finally broken.
Rain lashed against the palace windows, sharp as thrown knives. Shadows trembled across the marble floors, chasing the flicker of lightning. The war council had dissolved into chaos hours ago. The nobles had shouted. Threatened. One had dared to pull a blade on Cassian—and had left with a crushed windpipe.
Now, silence reigned in the high tower.
Riven stood by the glass, shirt half undone, damp strands of dark hair clinging to his cheek. The downpour lit him up in flashes—he looked carved from shadow, elemental, too beautiful and too dangerous to belong to this world.
Cassian didn't knock. He slammed the door behind him and crossed the room in three strides.
Riven didn't move. "Is it done?"
Cassian grabbed him by the jaw. "You tell me."
Riven's smirk flickered. "You're angry."
"Valen knew our codes. He ambushed the supply line hours after we changed routes. Only four people knew, Riven. Me. The generals. And you."
Riven didn't deny it.
Cassian's fingers twitched tighter, but he didn't strike. Not yet. "Tell me you didn't feed him that intel. Tell me I'm wrong."
"I didn't give it freely." Riven's voice was low, velvet threaded with steel. "But I took something in return."
Cassian released his face with a shove, stepping back like he'd touched fire. "You bartered with my enemies behind my back?"
"I protected you." Riven's eyes blazed. "I gave him a bone so he'd believe he still had teeth. I gave him something small—so he wouldn't look deeper."
"And what did he give you?"
There was a pause. Long enough to cut.
"Insurance," Riven said softly. "Something that could burn his whole damn empire down if he turns on us."
Cassian stared at him. "Us."
But that was the heart of it, wasn't it? That terrible, golden lie between them—us. The illusion that they were on the same side, the same warpath. That they hadn't already crossed lines they couldn't uncross.
Cassian stepped forward again, circling Riven slowly. He didn't speak. He just watched him—every inch of exposed skin, every subtle breath, every trace of tension.
And then, he whispered, "Take off your shirt."
Riven blinked. "What?"
Cassian's voice was ice and flame. "Take it off. If you're going to seduce enemies behind my back, let's see what they're buying."
Riven didn't move for a moment. Then—slowly, defiantly—he unbuttoned the last clasp and slid the damp shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Pale scars glinted across his back. Some old. Some fresh.
Cassian moved behind him, palms ghosting just above his skin. Not touching. Not yet.
"I should hate you," he murmured.
"You already do," Riven breathed.
Cassian's hands crashed down onto his hips and spun him to face him.
"No," Cassian said, voice dark and low. "I don't. That's the problem."
And then he kissed him—hard, punishing, raw.
Riven moaned into the heat of it, claws scraping at Cassian's tunic, yanking him closer until there was no air between them. The kiss was teeth and desperation and power, a battle of mouths and wills. Cassian gripped Riven's wrists and pinned them to the wall above his head, devouring him like a man starved.
"You think I'm going to beg for your loyalty?" Cassian hissed against his throat, biting the edge of his jaw.
"You already have," Riven rasped. "Every time you touched me like this."
Cassian growled, furious—and lifted him off the ground, carrying him to the bed.
Cassian slammed the door to the balcony shut with a booted foot as he tossed Riven onto the bed. Lightning flashed again, stark against their shadows. Riven landed with a grunt but didn't resist—his chest rising and falling fast, lips wet from the kiss, eyes burning with the same heat storming through Cassian's veins.
Cassian shrugged off his soaked coat and threw it aside. His fingers trembled—not from hesitation, but from the surge of barely leashed restraint.
"Tell me something true," he growled as he climbed over Riven.
Riven didn't flinch. "I still want you."
Cassian crushed their mouths together again. Their bodies met with a violent hunger—flesh against flesh, hot and slick from the rain, and desperate like a final breath.
Clothes were peeled away, fingers tearing at fastenings with a mix of urgency and fury. Riven arched under him, moaning when Cassian's teeth scraped his collarbone. "You think this is punishment?" he hissed. "You think this hurts me?"
Cassian's mouth trailed down Riven's chest, biting just hard enough to bruise. "Not yet," he whispered.
Riven gasped as Cassian's hand slid between his thighs, cupping him through the last barrier of cloth. "Cassian—"
"You made me question everything," Cassian said, voice rough and dark. "Made me doubt every fucking word out of your mouth. But I never—never—stopped craving you."
Cassian's fingers tugged the last of the fabric away. Riven was fully bare now, back arched, lips parted, eyes wide but burning. Cassian took a moment just to look at him—at the curve of his hipbones, the flush crawling up his chest, the wild mess of hair.
Then he kissed a path lower.
Riven sucked in a sharp breath as Cassian's mouth found its prize, hot and wet and all-consuming. He writhed under the attention, moaning openly now, his hands burying themselves in Cassian's hair, fingers tightening with every flick of tongue, every slow draw that bordered on torture.
"Cassian—" Riven's voice broke as his thighs trembled.
Cassian didn't stop until Riven's whole body bowed off the bed, a loud cry ripping free as he came, fingers knotted in dark hair, his legs shaking.
But Cassian wasn't done.
He pulled back slowly, licking his lips as he met Riven's eyes—still half-glazed, but already igniting again. Cassian stripped the rest of the way, revealing a body carved from muscle and tension, his arousal hard and ready.
He climbed back over Riven, pinning his wrists again. "You still want me?" he asked low.
"Yes," Riven breathed.
"Even if I ruin you?"
"You already have."
That broke the last of Cassian's restraint.
He claimed him with a deep, slow thrust, both of them groaning in unison. The heat was maddening, the stretch just enough to pull gasps and curses from Riven's lips. Cassian moved with purpose—hard and deep, each stroke a demand, a punishment, a vow.
Riven matched him—hips lifting, heels digging in, meeting every motion with his own. The rhythm built fast and fierce, until the bed creaked beneath them, until their slick skin smacked with every thrust, until they were nothing but breath and friction and moaning names like prayer.
Cassian leaned down, whispering into Riven's ear as he fucked him harder. "I don't care what you've done. I don't care who you betray. But don't lie to me again."
Riven's head thrashed against the sheets. "Never—never—"
Cassian bit his shoulder, then soothed it with his tongue. "Say it again."
"I'm yours," Riven gasped. "Only yours."
Cassian's hips stuttered. The words shot straight through him.
He slammed into him again—once, twice—and they both came undone. Riven spilled with a loud cry, muscles clenching around Cassian and dragging him over the edge. Cassian groaned as he spilled deep inside him, grinding through the last few spasms, holding Riven tight as their bodies trembled together.
They collapsed in a tangled heap, chests heaving, sweat cooling.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Cassian brushed damp hair from Riven's brow. "What now?" he asked softly.
Riven turned to face him, eyes too sharp for someone freshly wrecked. "Now we burn the world down. Together."