Sunlight filtered through the canopy above, golden and dappled, warming my skin before my senses even stirred. The first thing I felt was Riven's body pressed against mine, his arm curled protectively around my waist. His breath, slow and deep, ghosted over my shoulder.
I blinked slowly, reluctant to leave the dreamless peace of sleep. But then he shifted, murmuring something against my neck. His nose brushed along the curve of it, and a lazy smile curved my lips before I could stop it.
"Morning," he murmured, voice still heavy with sleep and something deeper that made my skin flush. I turned in his arms, meeting the warmth of his gaze. His eyes held that familiar storm, quiet now but still wild beneath the surface. One hand trailed up my spine, featherlight, until it rested at the base of my neck.
"You always look this beautiful when you wake up?" he murmured, the edge of a grin tugging at his lips. "Must be the forest magic," I murmured, lips grazing his. "Or maybe just the company."
He leaned in, and when he kissed me, it wasn't hurried. It was slow, coaxing. His lips moved like he had all the time in the world, and for a moment, it felt like we did. The world held its breath around us, the forest a quiet witness.
But soon, the warmth between us deepened. My breath caught as his fingers traced the curve of my back, my waist, the line of my thigh. His touch was both reverent and unhurried, and when he pulled me closer, the edges of the morning blurred. Eventually, I pulled away, just enough to rest my forehead against his. "If we stay like this," I whispered, "I might never leave." He smirked, fingers splayed across my bare hip. "Would that be so bad?"
I laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw before slipping from his embrace. The early air kissed my skin, crisp and invigorating. I stretched, feeling every muscle hum with a strange, peaceful ache, then padded toward the edge of the lake.
The water shimmered like molten silver beneath the morning sun, crisp and still as glass. I stepped in slowly, letting the chill bite at me. It was shock and relief all at once. I turned, waist-deep, water curling around me like a silken veil. "You're missing out," I called, laughing as droplets danced from my fingertips. But I was met with silence.
I glanced toward the shore and my smile faltered. Riven stood completely still, a strange expression shadowing his face. His brows were furrowed, mouth set in a tight line. The easy warmth from earlier had vanished.
"Riven?" I called, confusion edging my voice. "What's wrong?" He didn't answer at first. Just walked forward until he stood at the very edge of the water, eyes locked on me with quiet intensity. "Come here," he said.
"What?" I gave a confused laugh. "Why? What's going on?" He extended his hand. "Come here, Athena." There was something in his voice, a warning cloaked in tenderness. A chill slid down my spine that had nothing to do with the water. I studied his face, trying to decipher whatever storm was brewing behind his eyes. But he gave me nothing.
So I stepped forward, took his hand, and let him pull me out of the water.
His hand slid from mine and his gaze trailed, slow and deliberately over the curve of my shoulder and the line of my spine. I felt the shift in him before I saw it. A stillness crept into the space between us, quiet and sharp, like the forest itself had turned to listen.
He moved closer. His breath brushed against my skin, barely audible, and then he stopped moving altogether. I didn't need to turn around to know what he was looking at.
A tightness gripped my chest as I stood frozen in place, the weight of awareness crashing back over me. In the haze of last night, wrapped in stolen warmth and starlight, I had let myself forget. The darkness had hidden what daylight now exposed without mercy.
The marks. Angry, crimson streaks that branded my back like secrets unwilling to stay buried. Riven didn't say a word, but I could feel him staring.
His fingers reached for me, tentative, almost afraid. When they made contact with my skin, I flinched. Not from pain, but from the unbearable tenderness in his touch. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw with something I couldn't place.
"What happened to you?" I didn't answer. I couldn't. The words clung to the back of my throat. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't sure if saying them out loud would break me, or set something loose I couldn't control.
When I didn't speak, I felt him shift behind me. The softness in his voice vanished. "Athena," he said again, this time with steel beneath it. I turned halfway, just enough to meet his eyes. They were no longer gentle. No longer full of teasing mischief or quiet awe. Now they burned with questions and something dangerously close to anger.
"You don't get to go quiet on me," he said, stepping forward. "Not about this." I swallowed hard, instinct dragging my gaze to the ground, but he closed the space between us in a breath. His hand didn't reach for the marks this time. It found my chin, tilting it up, not forcefully, but with a silent promise that he wasn't going to let me disappear into silence.
"Who did this to you?" The question was simple. But it shattered something inside me. Because he already knew the answer. Maybe not the full story. But enough to feel the storm stirring beneath my skin. Enough to see what I had tried to bury.
I opened my mouth, but the words that came weren't the ones I planned. "I didn't want you to see." They slipped out before I could catch them, trembling on my tongue like a confession. But instead of softening, Riven stepped back, eyes narrowing as the weight of my admission sank in. He shook his head slowly, disbelieving. "You didn't want me to see?"
There was a pause. A beat that dragged like a held breath. Then his voice snapped, low and sharp. "What the fuck, Athena?" I flinched. Not from fear but from the sheer force of his anger. "Answer the fucking question. Who did this to you?"
And just like that, the guilt in my throat twisted into fire. I laughed. Cold. Bitter. The sound didn't belong in this sacred place. "Why are you even asking?" I hissed, lifting my gaze to meet his with a fire of my own. "Don't stand there acting like you don't know." His brows furrowed, but I didn't stop. "You knew. The second you saw them."
"Athena--" "Don't," I cut in, voice shaking with rage. "Don't lie to me. Not you. I know you know who did this. So don't fucking ask me to say it when you won't even say it yourself."
His mouth pressed into a hard line. His fists clenched at his sides, and the air between us felt electric, pulsing with unsaid truths.
But still, he said nothing. That silence was all I needed. "Yeah," I muttered, more to myself than to him. "That's what I thought." I turned on my heel and marched toward the pile of clothes near the trees, each step crunching softly on the moss and twigs below. My hands shook as I grabbed my bra from the ground and yanked it on, followed by my shorts and my shirt. I didn't bother searching for the ruined fabric that used to be my underwear. It wasn't worth the dignity.
I could feel his stare, heavy and haunted, but I refused to look back. Not when everything inside me felt like it was unraveling. I was about to take a step forward, ready to disappear into the trees and put as much distance between us as I could. But something inside me snapped. Before I could think, before I could stop myself, I turned around and marched straight back to him. He didn't move, just stood there, tense and unreadable. But I didn't care. Not anymore.
"You want to know who the fuck put the marks on me?" I said, my voice sharp, every word jagged and shaking. "Fine." I took another step, refusing to break eye contact. My chest burned, my throat raw, but the words kept coming, tumbling out faster, louder.
"It was the fucking Noctari King. Him and his men." Riven flinched. "I went looking for answers that you would not give me. That no one would give me. I was tired of the lies, of being kept in the dark." I could see his hands twitching at his sides, his eyes darkening with each word. But he still didn't speak.
"They ambushed me. Cornered me like prey. I couldn't even fight back. They broke me, Riven. Not just my body. My mind." My voice cracked, but I kept going, even as my hands curled into fists. "They left me there. Bleeding. Barely conscious. And I didn't even have the strength to crawl away. I laid there humiliated, shattered. And do you know what I kept thinking?" I took one more step, close enough to feel the tension vibrating off him. "I kept thinking, this wouldn't have happened if someone had just told me the damn truth. If you had told me." Riven's eyes flickered. His jaw clenched.
"I had a panic attack yesterday because when you grabbed me, all I could feel was their hands. Their shadows. Their fucking laughter." The tears came freely now, slipping down my cheeks like fire. But I didn't wipe them away.
"And the worst part?" I whispered, breath catching. "You're still pretending. Standing there like you don't know who the Noctari King is. Like you haven't known from the start."
His expression cracked, just for a moment, something hollow flickering in his gaze. But I didn't wait for whatever excuse or silence would follow. I turned and walked away, my steps uneven, chest heaving. The forest blurred around me as hot tears spilled faster, blinding and cold. But I didn't stop. Couldn't. Not now. Not after everything I had just torn open.
Branches scraped against my arms as I pushed through the trees, not caring where I was going, only that I was getting away. From him. From this. From the sick feeling clawing at my chest. But the forest wasn't large enough to outrun pain. And Riven didn't let me get far.
I heard him behind me, swift, relentless, and before I could blink, his arms closed around me from behind, dragging me to a stop. "Let go of me." I struggled, thrashing against him, but he held fast. "No," he said, voice thick with something too heavy to name. "Don't run away from me. Not again. No more running, Athena."
His words struck somewhere deep, where the ache lived. His grip wasn't rough, it was grounding. And when he buried his face into my hair and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, something in me shattered all over again. My fight crumpled. My knees buckled.
I turned into him, fists clenching his shirt as I broke down, sobbing into his chest. The tears came fast and hard, wracking through me until I could barely breathe. And still, he held me. No questions. No judgments. Just quiet strength, arms wrapped tight around all the broken pieces I couldn't hold on my own.
Time passed in fragments, wind whispering through the trees, birds calling somewhere in the distance, but we stayed like that, locked in the quiet storm of each other. When the tremors in my body finally faded, when my breathing evened out, I whispered against him. "You knew about Cole." He didn't move. "Since Lara's birthday," I said. "You knew it was them, didn't you?"
He inhaled sharply. And then, without a word, he stepped back. His hands dropped from me and he turned his back, head tilted toward the sky like he needed divine help to answer. In one swift, violent motion, he slammed his fist into the trunk of the nearest tree. "Fuck," he hissed through gritted teeth.
The bark splintered under his knuckles, but he didn't flinch. He leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the trunk, head bowed low, shoulders shaking with ragged breaths he couldn't seem to control. For the first time, Riven looked like he was the one unraveling.
I didn't dare say a word. There was too much hanging in the air between us, thick and heavy, and I knew this wasn't something I could interrupt. Still, we were bound to face it. There was no moving forward, no us, if secrets kept lodging themselves between every step we tried to take together. So I leaned back against a nearby tree, its bark cool and grounding against my spine, and watched him. Waiting.
Eventually, Riven turned around and leaned against the opposite trunk, mirroring me. But his eyes didn't find mine. Not yet. "Yes," he said quietly, voice hoarse. "I knew it was that fucking bastard at Lara's birthday." The words fell like stones into the silence.
"I didn't tell you," he continued, jaw tight, "because I was protecting you from him. Keeping you away from his merciless wrath. I thought—I thought I was doing the right thing." He finally looked up, eyes storm-dark and aching. "But I was wrong. Because he did find you and he fucking hurt you." His voice cracked on the last word, barely audible.
"If I knew better…" he began, then trailed off. "I'd walk away. You'd be safer without me. All I've done is drag you into danger you never deserved." He closed his eyes, jaw clenched as though the very act of speaking it brought pain. A low, frustrated breath escaped his lips. "Fuck."
I stepped away from the tree, just far enough to meet him halfway with my voice.
"How do you know about him?" I asked, quieter now, but not less fierce. "Cole. How could you so easily recognize that it was him, when even the Council had no idea at the time?"
His eyes opened slowly. And for the first time, I saw it there, deep in his stare. Not just guilt. History. He didn't answer right away. Just looked at me like I was the one holding his truth hostage. He pushed off the tree, pacing a few steps before he stopped again, rubbing the heel of his hand against his temple. "There are things about me you don't know," he said finally, each word deliberate, weighed. "Things I've kept hidden. Not because I don't trust you, because I had to."
His voice dipped, barely above a whisper. "It's not just about me, Athena. It's about bloodlines. My family's... heritage. Who we are, it's protected. Buried. For a reason." I said nothing, but he must've seen something shift in my expression. Doubt, maybe, or something close to betrayal, because he stepped toward me, urgency blooming in his voice. "I didn't lie," he said. "But I didn't tell you everything either. About… that fucker. About why I recognized him." I held his gaze, waiting. Demanding.
He exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening. "My family has history with the Noctari. Old alliances. Older betrayals. We were taught to recognize every one of their bloodline by name and by magic. The Noctari King was one of the first I learned about."
That landed like ice in my chest. "You grew up knowing him," I said, barely managing to keep my voice steady. "I grew up being warned about him," Riven corrected. "He's not just dangerous, Athena. He's—" He shook his head, cutting himself off. "Let's just say there's a reason no one talks about how deep his roots run."
I stared at him, the weight of his words still sinking in. "You still should've told me. This is huge, Riven." I said, barely above a whisper. "I know," he replied quietly, meeting my eyes without flinching. "And I promise I'll tell you what I can. But not here. Not now. You've been through enough for one morning." He paused, eyes flicking down for a moment before meeting mine again, this time, steadier. "There's something I want you to have though."
Without waiting for a response, he lifted his left wrist, gently pushing aside the usual mess of leather cords and worn bands he always wore like armor. The bracelets shifted, revealing two slender silver cuffs beneath, etched with markings I hadn't truly paid attention to before. Not until now.
The moment the symbols caught the light, something in me recoiled, recognition blooming like a bruise beneath the skin. They weren't exact, but the shapes, the curves, the sharp-edged loops, they echoed what had been scorched across the ballroom floor. What had been carved into my body. My breath hitched.
"They're not the same," Riven said quietly, noticing my reaction. "But they're from the same language."
He unclasped one, the more worn of the two, its surface dulled with time, and stepped forward, holding it out to me.
"This was my brother's," he said, his voice low, threaded with something between pride and grief. "I kept it after he died in battle… sacrificed himself for our family." There was an air of solemnity in the way he said it, like he carried the memory like a blade he'd long since learned to live with.
I stared at the bracelet, hesitant, unsure if I was supposed to feel reverence… or fear. The symbols etched into the metal weren't just markings, they felt alive, as if they carried memories of their own. "You said they're from the same language," I murmured. "The markings. What do they mean?"
"The one the fucker used on you?" he said. "That was the King's emblem. His motto. What is marked is already owned." He swallowed hard. "It's not just a phrase. It's a claim. A tracking mark. A declaration of possession."
"And this?" I asked, nodding to the silver cuff between us. He hesitated, then met my eyes. "In the dark, we remain unbroken. It's our family's emblem. A reminder that no matter what shadows we come from, they don't define us."
I didn't say anything. I just looked at it, at the worn edges and ancient script. I thought about what had been done to me. What I had survived. And what I still didn't understand. Slowly, I reached out and slipped it onto my wrist, letting the cool metal settle into place like it belonged there all along.
Riven watched in silence. Something in his expression shifted. Relief, maybe, or respect. Or something far more complicated. The bracelet was light, but it felt like wearing a piece of someone else's past. A tether to a legacy I didn't fully understand, wrapped now around my wrist like a silent promise.
"It suits you," he said finally, voice low. I looked up. "It's not for style," I replied.
His lips lifted in the faintest, tired smile. "No. It's for strength." For a second, neither of us moved. But the air between us was no longer filled with just pain or silence. It was filled with something new. Understanding. And something else. Something neither of us was ready to acknowledge yet.
I stepped in, closing the space between us, and kissed him, slow and sure. He kissed me back without hesitation, his hand finding my waist like it always belonged there. The kiss wasn't urgent. It didn't need to be. It was grounding, steady… a quiet promise exchanged between two people who had seen each other's shadows and stayed. When I finally drew back, just far enough to breathe, I rested my forehead against his.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For opening up to me. That means more than you know."
His eyes searched mine, like he wanted to say something, but couldn't speak the words yet. Instead, he gave me a small, breathless smile. The kind he only wore when his walls were down. The kind that made me fall just a little more.