The stars still shimmered overhead, but the tension in the air had calmed, like even the cosmos understood this quiet moment. Riven lay beside her, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other draped protectively around her waist, not holding her down, but keeping her close. A silent promise. Mae rested in that silence for a while, heart still racing, not from fear, but from something more delicate.
Anticipation. Choice. Then, she sat up slowly, breath steady, eyes fixed ahead. Riven blinked, stirring beside her. "Mae?" She turned to look at him, lips parted, words caught just behind them. And then, she spoke, quiet, sure, real. "I do want to." Riven sat up too, slowly, cautiously, like he didn't want to scare the moment off. Mae met his eyes, her voice softer now. "I was afraid before, but I'm not now. I want you. I want this. Because it's me choosing it. Not fate. Not visions. Not fear."
A long pause.
Then Riven reached up and brushed her cheek again, his fingers warm and careful.
"You're sure?" he asked, barely more than a breath. Mae nodded, her hand finding his. "I'm sure." Riven leaned in, slower than before. This time not just a kiss but a question. Mae answered it with her lips. And when they kissed again, it wasn't sudden or rushed. It was slow, full of trembling need and patient fire. Hands explored gently. Clothes shifted softly. Every movement was wrapped in reverence. Riven didn't push. He responded. And Mae didn't flinch. She leaned in.
The world around them faded, only stars watching, sky listening, and the land quiet beneath them. This wasn't about power or prophecy or danger. This was Mae, choosing intimacy. Choosing trust. Choosing him. And in that moment, something unseen deepened, a bond formed not from destiny, but from truth. Riven kissed her like she was something sacred. Not rushed. Not claiming. Just there with her, breath to breath, heartbeat to heartbeat. Mae's fingers curled in his shirt as he laid her back gently against the blanket, the stars painting her skin in soft golds and silvers. She felt the heat of him above her, but not overwhelming. Anchoring.
His hands moved with patience, fingertips brushing her waist, tracing the edge of her ribs, learning her slowly. And when he kissed down her neck, her breath caught. Her body responded before her mind could catch up. Riven's hand slid beneath the waistband of her pants, his fingers moving with feather-light precision. Not greedy. Exploring. Mae gasped, her hips lifting slightly, her body answering his without hesitation now. It wasn't just pleasure.It was release. Trust. A truth her body had been holding too tightly, finally let go. She gripped his shoulder as his fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, her breath stuttering, her thighs trembling.
"Riven," she whispered, half warning, half plea. "I've got you," he murmured, kissing her shoulder. "Just feel. That's all you have to do." And she did. Her back arched as something surged through her, warm, powerful, freeing. Like a current awakening in her blood. By the time her breath stilled again, she was trembling in his arms, her body humming. He didn't ask for more. He didn't move beyond what she gave. He just kissed her cheek, held her tight, and whispered, "You're mine in this moment. Nothing else matters."
And Mae, still breathless, still shaking, let herself believe him. The night around them held its breath. Riven's touch lingered just above her hip, slow and steady, as if he was still asking, still waiting for the smallest sign from her to keep going or stop. Mae looked up at him, her breath shallow but even, her eyes full of quiet certainty. "Yes," she whispered. "I want you." He stilled, just for a heartbeat. Then leaned in, kissing her again, not hungrily, but reverently, like her answer had been a prayer.
Their pants were eased away, layer by layer, as if time itself had slowed to make room for them. Skin met skin, and the heat between them deepened, less a spark, more a rising flame. The kind that didn't consume, but warmed all the way through. Riven hovered above her, bracing himself with one hand, the other gently trailing along her thigh. "I'll go slow," he murmured against her lips. "Tell me if it's too much. Tell me everything." Mae nodded, fingers tightening on his shoulder. When he entered her, it was with care, with gravity, like the moment was something ancient being rewritten in their bodies.
Her breath caught, not from pain, but from the unfamiliar stretch of being filled for the first time. Riven paused instantly, lips at her neck, whispering reassurance. "You're okay," he murmured. "You're so perfect, just breathe." Mae did. And slowly, the tension melted. Her body adjusted, welcomed him. He moved inside her like he belonged there. Not rough. Not fast. Just together. Their rhythm built gradually, like waves lapping at a shore. She met his movements with her own, hips lifting, legs wrapping around him, her body learning him as he learned her.
Every stroke was a vow.Every gasp, a secret shared. Time unraveled. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other, breath rising and falling in tandem, touches deepening, pleasure growing slowly, steadily. At one point, Mae ran her fingers through his hair and whispered his name like it was a spell. Riven buried his face in her neck, groaning softly, shaken by the way she said it. And when release finally came, it wasn't explosive. It was transformative.
Mae cried out softly, her back arching as her body trembled with release, and Riven held her tighter, following her with a low sound that wasn't just pleasure, it was emotion. They didn't fall apart after.They came back together, closer, quieter, more real. He stayed inside her for a long while, bodies tangled, skin slick with warmth and stardust. Neither spoke. There was nothing more to say. Just the rhythm of breath. The feel of skin. And a quiet knowing that nothing between them would be the same.