I leaned in.
His mouth slammed onto mine.
Riven’s lips were hard,demanding, but the moment they touched, the intent shifted.
He pulled back a fraction of an inch—just enough to breathe my air, just enough to let me run if I wanted to. It was a question. A silent, desperate request for permission pressed against my mouth.
I answered him by tangling my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and dragging him back down.
He groaned—a low, rough sound that vibrated through my chest—and the restraint snapped.
He devoured me as he kissed me. His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting, claiming, stealing the breath from my lungs andgiving me his in return. He tasted of rain and storm air, and something purely, intoxicatingly male.
My hands slid down his shoulders, gripping the heavy wool of his coat, trying to draw him closer, but there was no space left between us. He pressed me back against the kitchen counter, his body a wall of solid, unyielding heat.
His mouth left mine, trailing a line of wet, open-mouthed kisses down my jawline. I gasped, my head falling back, exposing my throat to him.
He took the offer. His lips grazed the sensitive skin beneath my ear, his teeth scraping lightly over my pulse point.
“Selene,” he murmured against my skin, his voice fractured.
The power inside me surfaced with an unsettling sense of recognition. A vibration ignited deep in my marrow—a searing heat that raced through my blood to meet the cold, hollow pull of his power.
The air in the kitchen thickened, metallic and dense with the pressure of an impending strike. His hands slid down my back, purposeful and possessive, before settling on my waist. His thumbs dug in, bruisingly soft, then slid higher—up my ribs and over the curve of my breast.
I made a sound I didn’t recognise—a sharp catch in my throat. Riven froze for a heartbeat, his pupils dilating until they nearly eclipsed the silver magic in his irises. Then he growled, a guttural vibration of approval, and his hands moulded over me, solid and hot.
The magic surged. Sparks of golden light arced across my skin, visible through the fabric of my clothes. They crackled and darted, jumping towards him. His shadows rose to meet them, dark, velvety tendrils of smoke spilling from his skin. They wound around my wrists and settled against my neck in a cool embrace that slid against the fever-hot snap of my own power.
The sensation was electric. It pulled at my core, a physical tug that left my knees weak. He pressed his hips into mine, his presence hard and heavy against my belly. The friction sent a jolt of raw needstraight through me. My focus splintered. I wanted nothing more than to disappear completely.
He jerked back suddenly, his hands framing my face, forcing me to look at him. His chest heaved. His eyes were wild, the silver light spinning frantically in the darkness of his gaze.
“Tell me to stop,” he rasped. He fought his own internal tide, waiting for me to anchor him or let him go.
I looked at him—at the hunger, the fear, the raw need.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered.
Something in him broke. He kissed me again, and the world disappeared. My magic erupted. A flood of blinding, golden light burst from my skin, filling the kitchen. The light carried the same uncontained force that had threatened to level the station, a power that usually ended in ruin. I expected destruction, but Riven caught it.
His shadows rose up, forming a dense, impenetrable sphere around us. He constructed the barrier to hide the explosion and hold its force. He was weaving a barrier, sealing us into a pocket of silence where no one could sense the flare of my power. Inside, my gold and his silver mixed, swirling together in the air like ink in water, mesmerising and impossible.
We were the only two things in the universe.
Riven’s hands slid down to my thighs. He gripped me, his fingers digging in, and lifted me effortlessly.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling myself flush against him.
He carried me out of the kitchen, through the swirling storm of our own making, heading for the bedroom.
He loweredme onto the mattress, his body following mine with the absolute force of gravity.
The shadows he summoned in the kitchen flooded the room,coating the windows, sealing the door. They shut out the city lights, leaving us in a private twilight illuminated only by the golden flare of my own skin and the silver fire in his eyes.
Clothes were an insult. A barrier we couldn’t tolerate for another second.
I tore at his shirt, the buttons popping and scattering across the floorboards as I shoved the dark fabric off his shoulders. He didn’t wait. He stripped me with efficient, desperate hands, peeling away denim and cotton until there was nothing left between us but heat and air.
