“Mecari, I assume?” Sorrell said dryly.
Riven let out a breath, half a laugh and half a sigh, and asked, “Is it over?”
Luca nodded. “It’s over. There’s not a single Hollow Hand agent left breathing in the estate.”
Riven sagged against the wall. The pain was catching up to him now, dull and deep in his chest, his throat burning raw.
Sorrell motioned one of his healers forward. The woman knelt quickly beside the Matriarch, her hands already glowing with magic as she assessed the older elf’s injuries.
“Thane—” she said, reaching toward him too.
Thane waved her off with a slow shake of his head and pushed himself upright, wavering slightly. “See to her first.”
Riven shifted, intending to help steady him, but Thane caught himself and managed to stay on his feet, though helooked as if the weight of the entire House Virellien estate had settled on his shoulders.
“You need to rest,” Riven muttered, leaning his head back against the wall, but he knew Thane would ignore him.
Thane turned to him, but before he could respond, his gaze flicked to Sorrell. “Asterian?”
“He’ll live,” Sorrell said. “But it was close.”
Thane nodded, and whatever force had kept him standing finally gave out. He dropped to his knees again, this time not from violence or rage, but simply from exhaustion. His body folded sideways as he collapsed to the stone floor.
Riven was already moving toward him, catching his arm as everything around them finally, blessedly, began to still.
Chapter 76
Two days later, Riven woke tangled in warm sheets, sunlight spilling soft and gold across the room. Thane’s bed. Thane’s arms. Thane’s breath steady against the back of his neck. He’d woken here the day before too—and the one before that—but it still felt disorienting, like stepping into someone else’s dream.
A hand slid down his stomach, slow and possessive. Thane’s.
“You’re awake,” Thane murmured against his skin, voice still sleep-rough.
Riven’s cock stirred under the lazy drag of that hand, a spark of heat blooming low in his belly. “We have that meeting in—” he started, glancing at the clock.
“Don’t care,” Thane muttered, his palm sliding lower, closing around him. “I’m not starting the day without this.”
Riven groaned softly as Thane stroked him with practiced ease. “Make it fast, then.”
Thane huffed a quiet laugh, the sound dark and pleased. “Always giving orders,” he said, but his tone was indulgent. He shifted behind Riven, pressing the hard length of his cock against Riven’s ass. “Mine.”
It wasn’t a question. It never was.
Riven arched into him in answer, breath catching as Thane’s hand left him only long enough to slick his fingers. He workedthem in with ruthless efficiency—no teasing, no slow build. Just possession.
Thane pushed inside a moment later, one long, deliberate stroke that filled Riven completely. Riven gritted his teeth, pleasure sharp and hot as he clenched around him.
“Fuck—” Thane’s voice was tight, reverent. He grabbed Riven’s hips and pulled him back harder, keeping him there, locked to the hilt. “This is mine. Every inch of you.”
Riven gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets. “Then take it.”
And Thane did. He moved with relentless pace, thrusts hard and deep, angled just right to make Riven’s vision blur. Riven tried to keep quiet—he always did—but it was impossible with Thane like this, caging him in, fucking him like nothing else mattered. No war, no Houses, no meetings. Just this.
One of Thane’s hands slid up Riven’s chest and closed around his throat—not tight, just firm enough to ground him, to own him. Riven moaned, his cock leaking onto the sheets beneath them. Thane’s grip tightened, possessive, claiming him in every way that mattered.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Thane growled into his ear. “Not now. Not ever.”
Riven’s orgasm hit him hard and fast, body jerking as he came with a broken sound. Thane followed with a low, guttural groan, burying himself deep one last time and spilling inside him.
