Page 48

The thing about Riven? He doesn’t snuggle. Riven threatens. Riven glowers. Riven speaks with the conviction of a thunderstorm mid-murder. He does not, under any known celestial law,snuggle.
Which is why I do the only logical thing a man in my position can do. I turn over—very, very slowly—and tuck his big, burly, wrath-drenched body against mine.
Then I lower my head. Just slightly. Just enough to nestle my nose under his chin like we’re lovers reunited after years apart. Like I’m the soft, vulnerable thing he fought through a thousand realms to reclaim.
And I wait.
The bed creaks slightly. Luna sighs in her sleep. Elias, curled in a blanket cocoon on the floor, mutters something about “never trusting anyone again.” None of it matters. All that matters is that Riven, the literal embodiment of fury with fists, is breathing deeply against me. Still asleep.
Still cuddling.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. I canfeelthe moment awareness starts to creep into his massive, battle-scarred body. His fingers twitch. His spine stiffens.
I don’t move. I don’t blink. Inuzzle.
The rumble he makes against my forehead isn’t human. It’s low. Threatening. A growl dredged up from the bottom of some abyss.
And still I stay.
Because I am Silas Veyd. I have no survival instinct. Only chaos and a deeply concerning attachment to watching Rivenpanic.
He shifts. Pulls back slightly. Then—freezes.
I peek up at him from beneath my lashes. His red eyes are open. Glowing faintly in the dark. Locked onto mine.
His expression?
Murderous.
I grin. “Morning, sunshine.”
A full second passes. Then he launches back with such force the entire bed jostles. Luna makes a disgruntled noise and rolls over, stealing the blanket in one motion. Riven’s on his feet like he’s been burned, glaring down at me with betrayal etched into every inch of him.
“You—” he rasps, voice half smoke, half slaughter.
“Me,” I say sweetly, stretching out like a satisfied cat. “And don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it.”
“Youcurled into me.”
“You pulled me in first. It’s in the rulebook—if Wrath initiates the snuggle, I’m contractually obligated to reciprocate.”
“There’s norulebook.”
“There is now.”
He stalks off, muttering obscenities in a language that hasn’t been spoken in six hundred years. I bask in the glory of his retreat, then flop onto my back and sigh contentedly.
Luna’s eyes crack open. She peers over at me, half-asleep, one brow raised.
“You’re a menace,” she mumbles.
I wink. “And your menace, sweetheart. Don’t forget it.”
She groans and buries her face in the stolen blanket.
And me? I grin into the quiet, because this—this—is home. Even when it shouldn’t be. Even when everything outside this room is madness. Inside it, we’re all just monsters trying not to love each other too loudly.
She moves. Not with fanfare. Not with a sleepy groan and a dramatic stretch. Just… slowly. Like drifting fog, like she was always meant to end up here, pressed against my side.