Chapter 5: Shadows and Consequences
Riven
I couldn't tell Aisha the truth last night. We'd ended up sharing a bed...nothing happened; we just lay there until morning. When I woke up, she was gone. All that remained was a note: Duty calls, and a red lipstick kiss on the page.
The bruises had faded by dawn, but the ache in my chest hadn't. I dressed in black from head to toe—black pants, black shirt, black jacket, black boots—pushing my hair back so it wouldn't fall into my face. Color felt like an insult to the life I led.
Breakfast was a blur. I ate fast and escaped Rea's attempts at conversation.At noon, though, I failed. In the training grounds I was supposed to be focused...push-ups until my arms shook—bare-chested under the hot sun. Rea stood over me, smug.
"You said you'd do it," she said.
"I tried," I panted.
"You didn't even try, Riven." She circled me, smiling like she'd swallowed the world. "You're making her a fool."
I pushed to my feet, sweat stinging my eyes. "Fine. I didn't try hard enough."
"You won't be the one facing her father's wrath," I said. "I will.
Cut that poison now cuz." She turned and left.
Rea and Aisha hated each other. It was an old wound. I showered, slid back into black, and jogged into Kigali Forest to clear my head. My thoughts collided: duty against desire, the future against what I knew in my bones.
I stopped on a ridge and felt the urge to scream, to tear something apart. Footsteps crunched behind me. Reflex pulled a knife; I spun to strike—only to freeze at those brown eyes again.
He stood in the dappled sunlight, hands raised as if in peace, a faint smile on his face. Today the forest wasn't swallowed by night; sunbeams lit his profile.
"Easy, Bloodbound," he said calmly.
My blade hovered at his throat. "What do you want?" I snapped.
"You." He stepped forward. "We need to talk."
"About what?"
"About what happened last night?"he says
I scoffed, already walking away.
"You felt it too," he said. "Don't pretend."
"I felt nothing." I kept moving. "Leave me alone. You don't know me and I don't want you to."
"You're my mate," he said simply.
The word landed like a stone. I laughed, a brittle sound. "My mate? While you're wrapped in a curse? Typical. You couldn't wait for that same mate."
He flinched at my tone but didn't back down. "I may be cursed, but that doesn't change anything."
"You're a man," I said. "You wasted yourself on women. How convenient for fate."
He leaned close, whispering into my ear. "Nothing change's the fact that you are mine and you also have a girlfriend right?."
I stiffened. "You did research on me?"
He smiled. " So what if I did? after all, you are mine, and I don't like it when someone claims what isn't her's ." He straightened. "See you, lover."
He turned and, with a quick flick, launched something from beneath his jacket. A knife hissed through the air.
I bolted. The knife struck a figure moving between the trees—he staggered, clutching his neck. Blood sprayed dark across his shirt. My heart slammed.
"Who are you and who sent you ?" I demanded as I crouched over the man.
He coughed, blood bubbling at his lips. "Master…" he rasped, then, with a last rasping breath, "—sent me."
I looked up. The brown-eyed vampire stood a little way off, face hard. The man at my knees was human...no hunter, no hunter-blood, just a pawn. He died with a whisper.
"He's dead," I said flatly.
The vampire watched me. "I know. But at least we have a lead." His mouth twitched—half-smile, half-mockery. "Master is a dead end, but pawns carry directions."
I blinked, anger flashing. "That was a human they have sent how weak are they."
"Nice shot, by the way," I said, dramatic and mocking. He took a little bow. "Thanks, my love."
I could have punched him then—could have torn him apart for playing games with lives—but instead I straightened, knife still warm in my hand, and felt the new shape of things forming. A lead. A trace. A reason to move.
"Don't get ahead of yourself," I muttered, but even as I spoke the world had shifted: the council, Aisha, the mark that had burned. Fate didn't give a damn about comfort. It only knotted the threads tighter.
We had a lead. That was something. And in a life full of lies and half-truths, something was all I could ask for.