The night was still scented with smoke and sex.
Riven woke tangled in sheets, Cassian's arms caging him, mouth hot on his shoulder. There was no gentleness in the way he held him now—only desperation masked as dominance. As if claiming him again and again would erase the ghost of Silas's touch.
And maybe it did.
Riven turned, kissed the line of Cassian's jaw, then dragged his mouth to his ear.
"You keep marking me like I'll run," he whispered. "I already chose you."
Cassian's grip tightened. "Then why does it feel like I'm still fighting for you?"
---
Later that day, a high-stakes masquerade was announced—Silas's invitation-only event for the elite. Politicians. Underground royalty. Rivals.
And enemies.
"He's baiting us," Cassian said, eyes locked on the gilded envelope. "But I'm done playing defense."
Riven smirked, slipping into a dark silk suit with a neckline designed to tempt sin itself. "Then let's give him a show he won't forget."
---
The masquerade was a cathedral of desire.
Masked guests danced, drank, and whispered like serpents. Bodies brushed too close. Lust bled from every wall. On the upper floor, private rooms were curtained off for... darker indulgences.
Riven was a vision in black, his mask laced with onyx and shadows.
Cassian walked beside him, every inch a predator in midnight.
They were magnetic.
Unmissable.
And exactly what Silas wanted.
He found them near the velvet staircase, swirling a drink like blood in his glass. "You made it."
Cassian's voice was steel. "We came to end this."
"Oh, I don't think you want it to end," Silas purred. "Not when the game's just getting good."
He reached for Riven's hand.
Cassian stepped between them.
"I dare you," he said low, dangerous, "to touch him again."
Silas chuckled. "Still possessive. Still scared."
But Riven stepped forward, eyes blazing. "You think you know me? You don't. Not anymore."
And then—before anyone could stop him—Riven grabbed Cassian by the collar and pulled him into a kiss so searing it drew gasps from the crowd.
Cassian responded like a wildfire.
He lifted Riven in his arms and carried him into one of the red-curtained rooms. Behind them, the murmurs turned into hungry moans.
Inside, Cassian didn't wait.
He pinned Riven to the mirrored wall, ripped open his shirt, and kissed every inch of skin with a vengeance.
"You want everyone to know who owns you?" he growled.
"Yes," Riven moaned. "Let them hear."
And Cassian gave them something to hear.
He devoured Riven with tongue, teeth, and thrusts that left the walls shaking. The mirror steamed with heat. Riven's cries echoed, sharp and broken with pleasure.
They didn't care who watched.
They only cared about each other.
And when they collapsed afterward, breathless and ruined, Riven whispered:
"You're not fighting for me anymore."
Cassian met his eyes, wild and burning.
Riven smiled.
"You already won."