Chapter Fourteen
Riven's POV
I woke up sore.
Not bruised—from battle.
Not aching—from strain.
Wrecked.
Between my thighs, where his body had broken me open.
On my neck, where his lips had pressed slow kisses after he came.
Inside my chest, where his voice still echoed.
I rolled over.
He was still there.
Lior.
Lying next to me, shirtless, one arm folded behind his head like he belonged here. His black hair messy, one fang peeking from his bottom lip, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth like he already knew what I was thinking.
"You watching me sleep, Riven?" he asked, voice thick with sleep and sin.
I turned away, sitting up quickly, blanket pooling around my waist. My thighs trembled when I moved.
He chuckled low. "Sore?"
"Shut the fuck up."
"You moaned so loud last night, I'm surprised your ancestors didn't hear you."
I stood, grabbing my clothes from the floor, trying not to wince. My body still ached from how he had taken me—thorough, brutal, slow. Like he was memorizing my body with every thrust.
"Was that just one night to you?" I asked, back still turned.
A pause.
Then: "Was it supposed to be more?"
My throat went dry. "No."
He stood behind me, not touching, just there. I could feel his heat on my back. His presence under my skin.
"That's what I thought," he said softly. "But the curse thinks otherwise."
I turned, frowning. "What are you talking about?"
He stepped closer. "I felt you this morning. When you woke up. The soreness. The way you missed me before you even opened your eyes."
I swallowed hard. "You're lying."
"No, Riven." His voice was suddenly serious. "The bond deepened. That night? That wasn't just physical. It shifted something."
"You don't believe in that bond crap," I whispered.
"I didn't," he admitted, brushing hair from my face. "Until I started feeling things that weren't mine."
"What do you mean?"
He touched his chest. "Fear. Shame. That ache in your heart when you thought I'd be gone when you woke up."
My heart skipped.
He leaned in, his breath ghosting over my lips. "You felt it too, didn't you?"
I nodded once.
"And you're scared."
"I'm furious."
He smirked. "Same thing."
---
Later, I returned to the Bloodbound base.
I walked in like nothing had happened. Head up. Eyes cold. But every step reminded me of how thoroughly he'd fucked me.
I washed three times.
I still smelled like him.
I touched my lips in the mirror. Still bruised. Still swollen.
One of my squadmates asked if I was limping. I snapped at him so hard he left the room.
That night, I tried to meditate. To block the curse. To cut the connection.
But it only grew stronger.
I could feel him. Lior. Somewhere far away. Thinking of me. His hand lazily wrapped around himself. Stroking. Moaning my name.
I gasped, dropping my blade.
"Fuck," I whispered, collapsing onto the floor.
I hated this.
I hated him.
But I wanted more.