Chapter One — The Night They Keep Returning To

The clock read 2:11 a.m. when Mara gave up on sleep.

The city’s hum was faint beyond her apartment’s thin walls, a low vibration against her skin. The room was bathed in that particular kind of night-shadow that made everything softer, yet more dangerous—like secrets murmured in the dark.

Her phone screen lit up before she touched it.

Riven.

The name alone was enough to tighten something in her chest. He always found her at this hour, like he could smell her insomnia from miles away.

Couldn't sleep? Or do you wait for me to start typing?

His words appeared like they did every night: unexpected, inevitable.

Mara’s lips twitched. She typed back without really thinking.

Does it matter? You always find me in the dark, anyway.

She could almost picture his smile—sharp, deliberate, a mouth made for both promises and threats.

It’s where we belong, isn’t it? What are you thinking about?

Her fingers hesitated over the glowing keyboard. She could lie. She often did, with other people. But not with him.

Whether it’s love... or just lust that keeps me coming back.

There was a pause she could feel more than see. Then his reply hit her like a whisper pressed to her ear.

What difference does it make, Mara? When you ache for my touch, do you want answers or abandon?

Her pulse skipped. She hated that he could do this—reduce her to heat and want with nothing but words.

I want you. Is that wrong?

Wrong things feel the best, Mara. Just like last night.

A shiver curved down her spine, memories mingling with fresh heat: the weight of his hands, the way his presence left her both bruised and addicted.

I remember every bruise. Every mark you left.

You let me. You liked it.

Did I ever say no?

You don’t have to. Your silence is louder than screams.

Her breath caught at the truth of it. Silence had always been her confession.

Don’t pretend you’re not obsessed.

Obsession is the only true passion, Mara. Love is for the daylight—We thrive in shadows.

Her eyes roamed across the dimly lit room. Shadows clung to everything; maybe that’s why she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.

So this… us… Is it love or lust?

Both. The line vanished the night you whispered for more.

Her thighs dared to press together. The memory wasn’t distant—it was in her muscles, her blood, in the way she was already unable to breathe slowly.

If I told you to stop?

I’d stop touching your body. But never your mind.

And if I told you not to stop?

There it was: the smile she couldn’t see but always felt.

I’d ruin you for anyone else.

Her heart kicked hard. She should have stopped. Instead:

You already have.

The typing bubble appeared again. And this time, it came with a promise.

Tomorrow night. Meet me where the city forgets itself.

She stared at it, fighting herself and losing.

I’ll be there. And I won’t pretend to want anything less than the darkness you offer.

Even in text, she could feel his satisfaction.

Then prepare yourself. Because after tomorrow, you’ll never be able to tell love from lust again.

Mara put her phone down but didn’t close her eyes.

Sleep wasn’t coming—and tomorrow night couldn't come fast enough.

The worst part?

She didn’t know whether she wanted to find love in him… or to be consumed completely by something far darker

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