The night clung to Alina long after it had ended. Even with the dawn spilling soft gold through the shutters, her body remembered every command of Kael’s touch, every sharp rush of surrender. It should have frightened her—the way the Veil seemed to bloom beneath his hands, how easily she had yielded to the dark tide of him. But as she rose and dressed, what unsettled her most wasn’t fear. It was hunger. A restlessness curling low in her belly, refusing to fade.
By the time she reached the courtyard, the crisp air and stretch of pale sky above did little to cool her. Riven was already waiting. He lounged against the edge of the column, hair tousled, posture relaxed, as though the entire morning existed only for his amusement.
His eyes, though—his eyes were sharp, as if he’d read every tho
