Chapter Three — The Morning After the Dark

The first thing Mara felt when she woke was the warmth.

Not the warmth of sunlight—her blinds were still drawn—but the faint trace of heat left in her skin, a ghost of the night before. She lay still, her body wrapped in her sheets, yet it wasn’t fabric she felt against her but the imprint of Riven’s hands. It was everywhere—her jaw where he had touched her like she was something fragile; her waist, where his fingers had pressed firmly, possessively; her lips, still tingling as if his kiss hadn’t ended.

Outside, the world had already started its morning noise—distant traffic, a bird somewhere singing—but to Mara, it all felt muted, as though she was listening from underwater. Her mind kept replaying the alley: the cold air, his breath against her ear, the way time seemed to fold in on itself so that only the space between them existed.

She turned onto her side and stared at her phone on the nightstand. No message yet. That wasn’t like him. Riven was usually the first to cross the night into the next day, claiming her attention before she could drift too far back into her own thoughts.

Her chest tightened with an unfamiliar sensation—was it longing? Worry? Or the simmering ache of wanting more?

She reached for the phone just as it buzzed.

One message.

Riven: It’s early. You’re thinking of last night.

A small smile curved her mouth. She typed slowly.

Mara: And if I am?

The reply came fast.

Riven: Then you understand. The city didn’t touch you last night—I did.

Her breath caught as the image resurfaced—the alley narrowing around them, his hands mapping her like uncharted territory, her body’s surrender neither forced nor reluctant, but fated.

She hesitated before answering.

Mara: You made it hard to breathe.

Riven: Because I wanted to take your breath. And I’m not done, Mara.

Her pulse quickened. She lay back on the bed, one hand pressed to her stomach, feeling the flutter beneath her palm. He had a way of writing words that felt like hands, slipping under her skin with every sentence.

The next message came before she could think of a reply.

Riven: Tonight. No alleys. Somewhere I can see you in the light—and still keep you close.

Mara: The light? I thought you thrived in shadows.

Riven: Shadows reveal more if you know how to look. Last night was the first page. Tonight, I start reading you.

Her breath deepened. She closed her eyes for a moment, picturing what “reading her” would feel like with Riven—mapping not only her body but the spaces inside her she didn’t let anyone touch.

Night didn’t come fast enough.

Mara spent the day restless, everything she did edged by the knowledge that she would see him again. Every sip of coffee tasted stronger. Every reflection she caught of herself made her wonder if she looked different—if the girl who walked into that alley last night was not the one who was now brushing her hair and trying not to look like she was anticipating danger like a lover.

And maybe she was.

When her phone finally lit up at 9:02 p.m., her body reacted before her brain caught up.

Riven: Open your door.

Her breath hitched. No address, no question—just the order. She moved through her apartment as if guided by unseen strings. When she opened the door, he was there, leaning against the frame like he could have been waiting forever.

The first thing she noticed was that he was dressed differently tonight—less shadow, more definition. A dark charcoal coat left open to reveal a black shirt that clung to him like it had been made for him alone. His hair was slightly mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it before deciding to find her.

“You’re on time,” she said, voice softer than she meant.

“I’m early,” he corrected, stepping inside without asking. “I wanted more time with you.”

The air changed when he was in her space. It was as if the walls themselves leaned closer to catch the pulse of his voice. He moved past her slowly, his arm brushing hers, and the touch—so incidental it should have been nothing—sent heat arching up her spine.

“Show me where you feel safe,” he said.

She swallowed and gestured toward the living room. The lights were low there, warm gold against the shadows spilling in from the city. He didn’t sit. Instead, he came to stand close enough that she could feel the faint heat of his body without him fully touching her.

“Last night,” he said, eyes fixed on hers, “I took the first step. Tonight… I learn.”

“Learn what?”

“How you move when you trust me. How you breathe when I’m near.” He reached up, letting his fingers trail slowly from the side of her neck down to her shoulder, each centimeter drawn out like he was etching the path into memory.

She exhaled shakily, leaning slightly toward him. His hand slid lower, curling around her waist, and this time, when he pulled her in, there was no hesitation in her body—only the matching forward motion of someone who had been impatient for the moment all day.

They stood like that for a long beat, eyes locked, breaths mingling. And then his mouth was on hers, slow and devastating. His lips moved with the precision of someone determined to learn her entirely—the places she yielded first, the faint sounds she made when his hand traveled just a little lower along her back.

Her fingers splayed against his chest, feeling the steady, powerful thrum beneath her palm. It wasn’t just desire she felt—it was the unshakable sense that he was pulling her toward something she wouldn’t come back from.

When he finally eased the kiss into stillness, their foreheads rested together, breath slightly uneven.

“You see?” he murmured. “I don’t need the alley. You bring the shadows with you.”

She almost laughed. “And you?”

“I bring the fire.”

And she believed him.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***