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CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

R IVEN FOUND ME AT THE WEAPONS TENT, inspecting the edges of the swords with the tips of my fingernails. He leaned against one of towering piles of crates and watched as I finished.

“There is nothing more that you can do,” he said, his gravel voice soft but firm. “You must rest, diizra .”

I shook my head. “I cannot rest here. There are too many tasks to be done. Too many things to inspect.”

“Then we will leave.” Riven closed the distance between us.

I scoffed. “The glamour concealing our ranks could break. Damien would be foolish to let us attack at dawn, which means I need to be alert and ready the entire night. I can’t leave the scouts—”

“You can and you will.” Riven clasped his hand around mine. “You cannot lead the Elverin into battle unless you are rested. And you just said that will not happen here.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Riven’s finger pressed against my lips. “Syrra and Feron will be here to receive the scouts’ reports. They will call us if anything happens.”

“Us?” I mumbled through Riven’s finger.

Dynara cleared her throat behind him. She stood at the entrance of the tent, her fingers already glowing.

“No.” I stepped back. “You’re not portaling me away on the eve of battle.” My voice cracked. I reached for the table to my left and grabbed a blade.

Riven grabbed my wrist and pulled it away from the swords. “Even your magic has its limits, diizra. Taking the night to recover could mean the difference between life or death. Yours or others.”

My breath stopped. Riven’s mouth curved into a knowing grin. He had me.

I leaned around him, staring Dynara down. “You will portal us back the moment anything goes awry.”

She crossed her arms, already bored. “Of course I will.” She swirled her arms along the inside of the tent and a portal opened. “Now hurry before the night comes and goes,” she said with a grin as she tossed a bag through the portal.

Riven pulled me toward it but I let go of his hand and pulled Dynara in for an embrace. Her body stiffened and then relaxed into mine. “Be safe,” I told her.

She pressed a kiss to my cheek. “After tomorrow we won’t have to be.”

She didn’t say the haunting part aloud.

If we survived.

Riven tugged on my hand, only his forearm still in the tent with us. I laughed and waved goodbye as Dynara closed the portal behind me.

Riven stooped to pick up the bag with his hook as I realized where we were. The ghost city was silent. Not even the wind dared to breathe as Riven led us to a large tree on the western edge of Vellinth.

The large orb of water hung above us, glowing silver in the full moonlight, casting long stripes along the dwellings in the trunks of the trees. All of them sat empty, except for the one directly ahead. A small faelight hovered around us as we walked up the steps. I gasped as I took in the dwelling. It was small, but lived in. A well-worn carpet covered the floor in a circle to match the shape of the room. On one edge sat a large bed with soft green coverlets and on the other two alcoves. One filled with Riven’s clothes and one with mine. I turned to him.

“I had it stocked at the same time as your burl in Myrelinth.” Riven looked down at his boots.

“But you didn’t show this to me the last time we were here.”

His brow went as straight as his mouth. His jade eyes settled on me, heavy and protective. “I didn’t want your ghosts to haunt this place too. Not when I planned …” He took in a deep breath as his words trailed off.

I tilted my head. “When you planned what, rovaa ?”

Riven’s body melted around mine at the sound of my pet name for him. I gave into his warmth. We were two wicks of the same candle, burning together.

“This is the only place that I ever truly felt at home.” Riven swallowed against my ear before pulling back. He pushed a stray hair behind the point of my ear and cupped my cheek. The callouses along his palm scratched at my skin, but I loved their roughness. “This is the only place where I never had to hide. Everyone who came here, everyone who has ever stood by my side in this city knew my secret.”

“It’s home.” My lips quivered as I looked around the room again. The embroidered tapestry over the bed was stitched crooked, a gift from Vrail or Nikolai most likely. The swords and daggers that hung along the wall were well worn, some dented. They were bookended by two curved blades that almost made a circle of steel, identical to Syrra’s. The same thin layer of dust that covered them covered the piles of books and the two full shelves that sat on either side of the bed. The room was a true representation of Riven—where the warrior Fae and the studious prince rested wearing whatever face he had liked.

“I hoped it would be ours.” Riven’s thumb ran along my jaw, calling my attention back to him. “I dreamed of days when my focus could be rebuilding this city, creating a safe haven for Halflings. I had lived through so many fantasies of it when I trained here, I could picture the full houses and the laughter, and Darythir happily teaching signed Elvish to all the newcomers. But from that day in Cereliath, those dreams changed. I just wanted to bring you here, to watch you turn it into something beautiful.”

I scoffed. “I don’t think I’ve made anything beautiful in my entire life.” I looked down at my hands.

Riven’s brows creased as he stared down at me. He pressed a kiss over one of my eyes and then the other. “Elverath herself saw the beauty you had inside you, the beauty you’ve always had inside you. Why else do you think you were given such gifts?”

I shook my head. “To bring magic and the Fae back.”

Now Riven shook his head. “You have focused too long on destroying the Crown. You forget your goal was always to build something better in its place. To build something just and fair and free.” Riven put his hand over mine like they were the most precious jewels in the continent. “Ensuring the Shades wore color as soon as they could.” Riven’s breath caught in his throat. “Designing spectacles for Maerhal so she didn’t spend any more days in darkness. Forgiving me for deceiving you because you saw strength and hope in forgiveness where I saw none.” Riven kissed the back of my palm. “You focus only on what your blade has cut and ended, but you forget how much you have fostered and grown, Keera Waateyith’thir.”

Riven stared at me with nothing but awe in his eyes. It was palpable, addictive even, as I breathed that hope into my lungs. But each breath was tinged with fear too. “And what if I can’t build anything after tomorrow?”

Riven’s hand tightened on mine. “Don’t say something like that, diizra .” He could only manage a whisper.

I shook my head. It wasn’t dying for my people that scared me. “What if we survive the battle, but after everything we’ve done, after everyone we’ve lost— ” My breath hitched. “What if it all scars me too much, leaves me sullen and useless forever?”

Riven caressed my cheek. “Then you will be sullen and useless. For as long as you need. But then when you have fretted long enough, we can step out of the shadows. Together.”

My lip quivered against his thumb. “Together,” I repeated. The promise we had made each other wrapped around me like a lifeline, one I knew Riven would never stop tossing down to me if I fell back into that pit of darkness.

I pulled him into a kiss. This time he was not the hungry and desperate one. I tore at his tunic until it lay on the floor in two ragged pieces without letting my mouth leave his. Pressing my body against his chest wasn’t enough. I needed to be closer.

Riven met my hunger with his own. He pulled my shirt over my head—sharp and swift. We didn’t have a moment to spare. We breathed each other in instead of air, Riven’s hand tangled in my hair, mine scratching his back, his chest, his arm.

I stopped. Riven was still wearing his sleeve. His jaw pulsed as I pressed a kiss to his shoulder, trailing my lips down what was left of his arm as I undid the fasteners.

Riven grunted. “I can do it, diizra .” But I shook my head. Riven had always been so gentle with my scars, from the very first moment he had seen them he never made me feel ashamed or embarrassed by the difference of my body. I wanted to do the same for him. I slipped off his sleeve and caressed the healed end where his arm had been.

Riven’s neck flexed as I pressed my lips to it and then pulled it to my chest. His eyes shifted away from me, but I grabbed his cheek and pulled him into a kiss. Riven groaned into my mouth, wrapping his arm around my back as he pulled me into him. His lips curved around mine like strokes of ink, decisive and well-practiced. His mouth moved to my throat and I claimed his shoulder.

We wrote each other letters with our lips. All the words we didn’t have time to say, all the dreams we hoped to share, we scribbled along every part of each other. Riven’s arms tightened around me, biceps squeezing my ribs. I looped my legs around his torso as he lifted me onto the mattress, my hands making quick work of both our trousers.

He licked away my tears, and I pulled his hair from the base of his neck, nipping his skin so forcefully I tasted blood. My healing gift exploded. The warmth of it wrapped around us until we were cocooned inside my magic where no one could hurt us—not even each other.

Riven’s lips trailed along my stomach, catching on my navel as he spread my knees.

“Tell me you need this as much as I do.” His hot breath burned my skin with need.

I stretched my legs, needing to touch more of him, but he nipped my ankle. “ Diizra .” He pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh. “Tell me you need this.”

Riven’s eyes bore down on me. He wouldn’t go any further without my approval.

But there was too much meaning packed into those five simple words. I didn’t know how to answer him. Nothing I could say seemed big enough, seemed accurate enough, to explain all the ways I needed him.

Riven’s thumb brushed against that pulsing point once. He raised a brow.

“Yes,” I groaned. “I need you. I need this.”

Riven smirked as he devoured me. There were no gentle licks or swirls of his tongue. He pushed my legs into my chest and claimed me as his own. Feasted on me until my body shook and the wind outside whistled through the trees, silencing my moans.

Riven removed his fingers after the third spell with a devilish grin on his face. “You’re divine,” he whispered, lowering his head for one last taste.

It was too much. I couldn’t bear it any longer.

I hooked my leg around his waist and twisted. I captured Riven’s laugh with my mouth as I claimed my place on top of him, tasting his joy as it transformed into a groan. I lowered my hips. I didn’t have the patience for slow and teasing strokes. I grabbed Riven’s arm, using it as an anchor as I ground my hips into him. Riven reached for my neck with his hand, trying to pull me into a kiss, but I leaned back out of reach. He settled for my breast, tugging at my nipple.

“Fuck, Keera,” he moaned, his gaze locked on the spot where our bodies met.

I leaned forward. Close enough to kiss and lengthening the depth of my strokes. Riven’s eyes shot to me, wanton and feral. His tongue brushed my bottom lip as he whispered my name again.

He matched my hips with thrusts of his own. I whimpered into his ear as a towering wave of pleasure built inside me, much more powerful than the ones before. The faelights in the room swirled on tiny gusts as my body exploded. Riven tensed as he rolled me onto my back with his hand under my hair.

He pressed a kiss to my nose, letting his weight sink into me the way he knew I liked. Our breaths were ragged and my lungs ached, but I reveled in the pain. I closed my eyes and noted every detail of that moment, every scent, every touch, clinging to it with all the strength I had, because for one more night we were alive.

But tomorrow that could change.