If he wasn’t fighting laughter,I might be mad at him for that comment, but Riven’s been supportive and helpful—borderline kind, if I’m being honest. The pull toward him is confusing, though, and it’s only getting stronger.
The elevator doors open with a ping, moving apart so slowly that I consider giving them a helping hand. “Don’t break anything,” Riven says. “It doesn’t look like the type of machinery that tolerates being strong-armed.”
He’s right. It’s the only reason I wait patiently before stepping inside and pressing the button for the third floor. My toe taps against the bottom of the elevator. I study the carpet in an attempt to distract myself. Blue, with golden accents, it’s seen better days, but this hotel is a major step up from the last place we stayed. Clean. Well-maintained. If it had faster elevators, I’d give it five stars.
My stomach flips. What if I misunderstood their note? They might not be waiting for me here. And if they are, they might not be as cool with my impromptu trip as they said they were. I could be in for a bitter disappointment or a raging fight.
“Have you ever ridden in one of these before?” I ask Riven.
“They won’t fault you,” he says, squeezing my hand. Suddenly I’m hyperaware of the press of his fingers against mine. “And yes, I’ve ridden in an elevator before.”
I narrow my eyes. “Did you get sick?”
He faces me fully and shakes his head. “In anelevator?Do you think I’m weak?”
I raise one eyebrow. “You didn’t deny it, so now I’m thinking the answer is yes.”
He rolls his eyes. The face he’s wearing is bland. The absence of the amber mask is disorienting, and I’m counting the seconds until he can drop the disguise.
“Maybe a little.”
It takes me way too long to remember what we were talking about. When I do, a startled laugh bubblesout of me. “That’s?—”
“Normal,” he says. “I’m quite certain it happens all the time.”
“Sure.” I don’t bother hiding my smile.
When the elevator finally grinds to a halt, I shoot through the opening doors, my shoulders grazing the cool metal. Riven turns sideways to fit, never once letting go of my hand.
I scan the wall, searching for the right numbers. We’re looking for room 315. According to the sign, that should be... to the right. I barrel down the long, narrow hall, and skid to a stop outside the door.
Riven drops my hand.
I reach inside my pocket, pull out the room key, and fit it into the lock. The light flashes red.I try again, slower this time. Red again.“Motherfucker.”
“Let me try.” Riven takes the card from me, but before he can attempt to use it, the door unlocks with a click. I’m moving before it fully opens, tackling Alistair and knocking the door against the wall in my hurry.
I don’t care about the loud bang.
Neither does he.
My feet come off the floor, dangling uselessly as I cling to Ali. I wrap my legs around his waist and bury my nose in his neck. He smells exactly right. Like mine. His black hair tickles my cheek as I breathe him in.
Riven follows us inside and shuts the door behind him, but most of my focus is on Alistair.
“Angel,” he groans. “Are you alright?”
I sigh, a shadow of the devastation that leveled me after finding the fake gateway coordinates still hanging over me. “I’ll be fine. Unless you’re mad at me.”
He grunts. “Not anymore. Someone convinced me of the error of my ways.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Oh? Who’s the Prince Charming I have to thank for that?”
“Me, fucking duh, hot wings.” Ciprian tries to latch on to me and manages to knock us all into an awkward pile of limbs on the unmade bed.
I sit up and reach for him, kissing him directly above Ali’s head.
His growl is everything I wanted. My skin pebbles. Ciprian shudders, then air rustles my hair as Alistair flips us, trying and failing to pin both of us to the bed at the same time.
