Page 27

Their home was carved into a hillside. Arched doorways.

Window spaces were covered in transparent vine sheets instead of glass.

Inside smooth stone floors stretched throughout, while walls veined with living growths pulsed faintly with light.

They found a separate room with insulated doors and layered containment shielding—for heat flashes.

Riv’En said nothing. His mind cataloged everything, the subtle pulse of light through the walls, the exact number of steps from one room to the next, the faint scent of living vines threaded through the air.

And yet, beneath all of that, something knotted tight in his chest. Not hesitation exactly, but a heaviness that grew with each step deeper into the residence, as if the walls themselves whispered reminders of what he had left unfinished here. Memories he had tried tobury.

His hand flexed once, unconsciously, fighting the slow burn that scorched through his blood. But beneath that calculation, his body resisted every forward step like a system running against corruptedcode.

Muscles locked against compulsion, breath dragging slower than it should have, each movement cautious when it should have been automatic. This was not just a homecoming. It was a reckoning, one his body remembered even when his mind tried notto.

Maya drifted from room to room, her fingers trailing along the curved walls, fingertips grazing the living textures like she was memorizing them.

Her touch lingered at the edges of archways, tracing the pulse of light veining through the stone.

Every now and then, she paused in a doorway or by a window space, her gaze flicking toward Riv’En, catching him watching her, silent and tense in the center of itall.

Her voice broke the quiet, soft but sure, threading into the charged silence between them. “You really don’t like people seeing through to the real you, do you?”

“No.” Short. Abrupt. Definite.

Her gaze flicked around the open layout again, at the living walls and transparent vine sheets in place of solid doors.

Then back to Riv’En. Her brow furrowed slightly, thoughtful rather than accusing.

“Is it because of Final Flight? Or just... everything? The way this place breathes, the way everything here is exposed, yet some parts concealed... like you built your entire world to keep things both open and hidden.”

Riv’En hesitated, as if weighing each word before he spoke.

“It is both,” he said at last, voice low and rough-edged.

“When Final Flight begins, there is no hiding. Strength, restraint—all of it burns away. And before that, there was always distance. Not fear. Function. Self-discipline. Letting anyone too close weakens that.” His gaze shifted to her, steady and unreadable.

“This place holds both: what I allow others to see... and what I keep only for myself.”

Her voice dropped lower, more certain. “You don’t want anyone to see more than what you allow, is that it?

” Her gaze flicked around the open layout again, at the living walls and transparent vine sheets in place of solid doors.

Then back to Riv’En. “Because of Final Flight? Or because it is just easier not to let anyone in?” Her tone wasn’t sharp, just quietly curious, like she was trying to fit the last piece of a puzzle she had already half-solved.

He stilled, as though steadying himself against the moment rather than reacting.

“It is unnecessary.” His voice stayed low, but there was a force behind it now.

“Elaroin homes are designed to breathe with their inhabitants. Privacy here is not about walls or locked doors. It is about presence. When my Final Flight begins, there will be no hiding it. No shutting it away. Iprefer not to allow others to witness that.” His gaze flicked toward her, steady and unreadable. “It is not shame. It is discretion.”

Her lips tilted. Almost a smile. “That is not weakness,” she said quietly.

Her gaze lingered on him, steady now. “Letting someone see. It is not losing dominion.” She turned then, full into his space, voice quieter still.

“I want to see all of it. Your home. Your world. And whatever part of you, you think does not exist anymore.”

Riv’En’s breath locked in his throat. Her words should not have carried the intensity they did, but they wrapped around him, settled like a living thing under his skin.

The light from the windows caught her hair again, bathing her in warm silver.

He lifted one hand without thinking, fingers brushing a stray strand back from her cheek.

Her skin was warm. Too warm. Or maybe that washim.

Her gaze didn’t flicker. Her voice dropped even lower. “You always get so still when I say things like that.”

“Because I do not know how to respond,” he admitted quietly. “You unsettle me.”

“I am not trying to.” Her smile softened, but her gaze did not waver.

It held steady on him, tracing every flicker of tension in his face, every subtle shift in his eyes.

“I just... Iwant to know the parts of you no one else gets to see. Not because I want to push past your wants and needs. Not to make things harder for you. Iwant to understand the things you do not say out loud. The things you hide so carefully. Because those are the parts that matter most.”

He cupped her chin then, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. “Maya...”

“Yes?” Her voice caught on that single word, barely above a whisper.

“I do not know if I have any parts left to share.”

Her hand covered his, fingers curling tight. “That’s not true. You do. And I’ll see them all.”

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The silence between them stretched, threaded through with heat and something deeper. His pulse pounded like a war drum beneath his skin, and her touch—light, certain—was the only thing holding him steady to the ground.

Her breath hitched. Not in fear. Never in fear.

But a tension filled her, underscored by the subtle way her fingers curled tighter against his.

And in that moment, something shifted in him.

It was not consideration. Not reason honed for war.

It was her choice. He could sense it as keenly as his own pulse. Maya was choosing this. Choosinghim.

Her certainty pressed against him through every contact point—the press of her hand, the shallow catch of her breath.

It filled his chest, hot and sharp, far more than battle or command.

Her stillness was not hesitation. It was resolve settling into place.

Her presence did not unbalance him. It steadiedhim.

When he spoke again, his voice was so quiet it was nearly lost in the ambient pulse of the living walls. “I want you here. Always.”

She didn’t pull away. Her voice shook, just a little. “Then show me. Show me everything.”

Riv’En didn’t move for a long breath after her words. The pulse in his veins thundered so loud it drowned out everything else—the quiet hum of the walls, the living pulse of Elaros beneath his feet, even the measured cadence of Maya’s breath. Only her words remained. Show me everything.

His hand dropped from her cheek, sliding instead to the back of her neck, fingers threading into the silk of her hair.

He didn’t drag her closer—didn’t need to.

She was already there, body angled into his like they were two halves of a precious whole.

His thumb brushed slowly along the curve where her neck met her shoulder, memorizing the warmth of her skin, the exact point where her pulse quickened beneath his touch.

“This is not what I planned,” he said, voice rough, unused. “Not what I intended.”

“I don’t care,” she answered, just as rough, just as quiet. Her fingers slid up his arm, mapping the hard lines of muscle there, slow and sure. “I want this. Iwant you.”

His self-discipline should have been stronger. It always had been. But there was nothing premeditated in the way he lowered his mouth to hers. Nothing careful. The kiss wasn’t a question. It was a claim. Asurrender. One that didn’t leave room for hesitation.

Her mouth opened under his on a sharp breath, her body arching against his.

He caught her in both hands, lifting her as though she weighed nothing, pinning her back gently against the nearest wall.

The living vines shifted with them, molding around her form without resistance, cradling her instead of pressinghard.

The heat rising in him was no longer the consuming fire of Final Flight—it was different.

Sharper. Steady. Channeled into her. The press of her thighs around him.

The whisper of her breath caught between their mouths.

His hands slid down, mapping the curve of her breasts, her waist, the shape of her body beneath his palms. It wasn’t enough. Would never be enough.

And still he kissed her like it couldbe.

Her hands weren’t passive either. She gripped the edge of his robe, dragging it apart, fingers skimming the bare skin beneath. The tremble in her hands betrayed how steady she was trying to be, while her nails scraped lightly across his ribs leaving behind a sharp sting.

He finally broke the kiss, breath coming fast. “Say it again.”

Her voice was rough, lips still parted. “I want you.”

Riv’En’s hands tightened around her. And then he carried her back toward the center of the room, the living walls pulsing faintly around them, the space shifting as though recognizing what was about to happen.

When he laid her down, it wasn’t as a captive or a threat. It wasn’t even as a warrior.

It was as a male. And it was all forher.

His hands slid over the curve of her thighs. She shivered under his touch, her breath catching in her throat. Her skin grew flushed, glowing in the low ambient light of the living walls. He knelt beside her, letting his fingers skim up her bare legs, opening and stripping away herrobe.

His voice was low, unsteady. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Her answer was immediate. “I won’t.”

Riv’En’s control frayed at the edges. His hands slid slowly over the soft line of her stomach, to trace the underside of her breast, savoring the softness of her skin, the way her breath caught at his touch.

His thumb brushed lightly over the peak, her nipple tightening beneath his fingers. Then he lowered his mouth, lips replacing his hand. He kissed her breast, his tongue flicking against her skin, tasting her, marking her with each movement, careful of his canines.

Maya arched into him, her fingers clutching at his shoulders, and he could hear her breath catch, hear the quiet sound she made as his mouth closed gently over her nipple, pulling it into the heat of his mouth.

He did not rush. He took his time, lavishing each kiss, each caress, until her body trembled beneathhim.

Her fingers found his, light but sure, guiding him lower. Her pulse thudded beneath his skin—relentless, pounding.

When his mouth replaced his hands, brushing against the hollow of her hip, her breath stuttered. His teeth grazed lightly over sensitive skin, followed by the slow sweep of his tongue. She arched toward him, compulsive, helpless.

“Maya,” he breathed against her skin. The name tasted likefire.

Her fingers slid into his hair, clutching tight. “Please.”

That one word undidhim.

He didn’t rush. He didn’t force. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as he kissed lower, until her body trembled under him, until her fingers clenched so hard in his hair it sent sharp pleasure down his spine.

When he finally moved up over her again, she was gasping, her eyes bright and dazed, her skin slick with heat. His robe was gone. His skin pressed against hers, heat to heat, no barriersleft.

Their eyes met. There were no words.

He entered her in a single, measured thrust, every muscle in his body tight with restraint. Her breath broke on a soft cry, her hands clutching his arms, nails digging in as he filledher.

Riv’En’s entire focus narrowed to her—every sound, every breath, every shift of her body beneath his. The connection was deeper than anything physical. The bond between them pulsed in time with each slow thrust, syncing heart to heart, breath to breath.

Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper, her body arching up to meet his. Her head tipped back, eyes closed, mouth open in a silentgasp.

He couldn’t look away. Couldn’tstop.

At first, his movements were slow, measured, adjusting to the pace her body set against his. But as her hands gripped his shoulders, as her hips met his with more force, he let the control fray further, let pure need drivehim.

The pace quickened. The air filled with the sounds of their bodies moving together, with her moans, with the harsh rasp of his breath against her skin. His name broke from her lips once, rough and breathless, and it nearly shatteredhim.

When her release overtook her, it wasn’t silent.

Her cry echoed off the living walls, her body tightening around him, pulling him deeper, locked by his knot.

He followed with a shudder, burying his face against her neck as release tore through him, leaving him stripped bare in a way no battle everhad.

They didn’t separate. His arms tightened around her, holding her close as their breathing slowed together.

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time seemed irrelevant.

Her hand traced idle patterns along his back, slow and soothing, her breath warm against his shoulder.

Each touch sent a quiet pulse through Riv’En’s spine, not as heat or urgency, but as something more crucial.

Permanence. The kind of steady contact he had never let himself imagine.

And instead of tightening his hold, he let his hand settle low against her body, memorizing the rise and fall of her breath, the quiet certainty that she was still there.

Her voice, when it finally came, was a whisper so soft it barely reachedhim.

“I love you.”

Riv’En went still.

Her fingers kept moving, light and easy, as though she hadn’t just fractured the entire foundation of his world.

By the time he found the strength to look down at her, her eyes were closed, her breathing slow andeven.

She’d already drifted to sleep.

But the words lingered.

I love you.

And Riv’En knew then, without question, that he would never let her go.