I barely recognize myself.
I try to look away, but Riven’s intense stare pins me in place, forcing me to confront the reality I’ve been desperate to avoid.
“I get it,” I whisper.
His scowl gets darker. “I don’t think you do.”
“I’m delusional. An idiot. I’ve let myself go?—”
“Don’t talk about yourself that way.” His voice is ice cold. It cracks against me like a whip, and a chill rolls down my spine. This isn’t Riven, my ally, or Riven, my friend; this is Riven, the veydra assassin—the one who burst into the Mouth of Hell to torment me all those months ago and introduced himself as Second Coming.
“You are strong.”
My shoulders tremble.
“You are loyal.”
But my heart . . . It hurts.
“You are smart.”
No. He’s wrong. Can’t he see how stupid I am?
“You are beautiful.”
I narrow my eyes, and he rolls his own.
“Even when your hair resembles a nest.” He sets his chin on top of my bun. “Especially when your hair resembles a nest.” My lips part, and I reach for the bun, the urge to rip it down consuming me. Riven curls around me, pinning myarms at my sides and surrounding me with his warmth. “What I don’t know is if you’re a liar.”
What the actual fuck?It’s my turn to frown, because why would he say that to the literal angel of truth?
He puts his finger over my lips, and I consider biting him.
“You’re dying to tell me all the reasons I’m wrong,” he says. “I’m sure you’ll have an ironclad comeback for everything I said about you.
“You’ll think it’s impossible for me to disagree, but I will. Vehemently. I won’t care how tight your rebuttal is—I’ll make room to disagree with it no matter what, because I see you, Celine, and I see you a lot more clearly than you see yourself right now.
“There’s nothing wrong with that. You have no reason to be ashamed of your pain or your confusion. Malach didn’t or couldn’t tell you his plans, and that’s not your fault. And if you’re wrong about him, that won’t be your fault either. You must know that.”
Riven’s voice is soft, but his expression is harsh. I’m captivated by his fury.
He looks strong. Strong enough to lean on.
I spin in his arms, putting the mirror behind me, and bury my face in his chest. “Don’t put me on a pedestal,” I whisper.
He makes a sound low in his throat. “It’s you who’ve put yourself on a pedestal, darling. Climb down, and I’ll stand by your side and kill anyone who tries to make you move.”
My lips collide with his. Our kiss is raw and rough; there’s no finesse. I taste my own desperation on his tongue, and his groan echoes through my entire body.
His arms, already wrapped around me, turn to steel bands.
There’s nothing soft about Riven. His kisses are demanding, ripping me away from the cloud of negative emotions I’ve been trapped under forthe past week.
I nip at the tendon below his ear. “Aren’t you going to tell me I’m too upset for this?”
“What?” His voice is a mix of annoyance and confusion.
I hide my grin in the curve of his neck. “You know, a gentleman would turn me down nicely. Tell me he’d never take advantage of my vulnerability.”
