FIVE BROTHERS MATED TO ONE (The Veil of Stars)

💋 Chapter Eighteen: The Game Begins

💋 Chapter Eighteen: The Game Begins

Elara couldn’t stop replaying Darius’s words in her head. You choose which of us you’ll crown… and which you’ll destroy.

The thought left her shivering, even long after he disappeared into the shadows. She had no crown, no throne—just a heart pulled in five directions, and a body that betrayed her with every stolen touch, every kiss.

“You look like someone just told you the world’s ending,” a lazy voice drawled.

Elara startled. Riven was perched on a boulder nearby, lounging as if he’d been there the entire time, watching. Knowing him, he probably had. His grin was wicked, eyes glinting like a cat who’d caught her cornered.

“I didn’t hear you,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

“That’s because you were too busy shaking,” he said, hopping down lightly. He closed the distance with the grace of someone who knew exactly how to move his body—and exactly what it did to hers.

Elara backed up until her shoulders met the cavern wall. His grin widened.

“You’ve kissed Theron,” he said softly, tilting his head. “You’ve kissed Kael. Even Darius has had his little moment, hasn’t he? All that intensity, all that shadow.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Riven leaned in, close enough that she could feel his breath, his words brushing against her skin. “So tell me, little star… why is it that you’ve been saving me for last?”

Her pulse thundered in her throat. “Riven…”

He chuckled low, dark, and delicious. “I don’t mind being last. It just means when I take my turn, you’ll remember it most.”

His finger traced a line down her arm, slow and teasing, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He didn’t push like Kael, didn’t claim like Theron—he tempted, coaxed, daring her to lean into the danger herself.

“Go on,” he whispered, lips brushing her cheek without quite touching. “Tell me you don’t want to know what it feels like. Lie to me, Elara.”

And gods help her—she couldn’t.

Elara’s silence was all the answer he needed.

Riven’s grin sharpened into something dangerous. “Thought so.”

Before she could catch her breath, his hand slid to the back of her neck, tilting her head just enough—and then his mouth was on hers.

The kiss was nothing like Kael’s storm of fire or Theron’s steady tide. It was wild, playful, wicked. Riven kissed her like a thief stealing treasure, like a dare she’d already lost the moment he pressed his lips to hers.

She gasped against him, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss, coaxing her into his rhythm. His tongue teased, his teeth grazed, and every time she tried to pull back, he followed, smirking into her mouth as though her resistance amused him.

Elara’s hands clenched in his shirt, torn between pushing him away and dragging him closer.

When he finally pulled back, he was grinning like he’d just won a game.

“Mmm,” he hummed, brushing his thumb across her lower lip, swollen from his kiss. “Tastes like starlight.”

Her knees felt weak, her chest heaving, but he was already stepping back, smug and infuriating.

“Now, when Kael burns, Theron broods, and Darius whispers his doom and gloom…” Riven’s eyes glittered with mischief as he gave her a slow, deliberate once-over. “…remember which one of us actually made you breathless.”

With a wink, he sauntered off, leaving her trembling against the cavern wall—heart pounding, lips tingling, and the maddening realization that he was right.