Third Person Pov
Riven had braced himself for insults, for icy glares, for the same thinly veiled contempt Caius' mother had given him back at the academy. What he hadn't expected was desperation.
Her voice cracked when she spoke, her pale fingers curling tight against the carved armrest of the chair like she was trying to anchor herself.
"Please," she said, eyes fixed on him, "You're an incubus right? help him. Caius is stuck in a nightmare."
For a moment, Riven just stared at her, unsure if he'd heard right. This was the same woman who'd looked at him like he'd tracked mud into her pristine halls, the one who'd all but called him an unworthy mate to her son. And now she was looking at him like he was the last thread keeping her from falling apart.
But the shock barely had time to settle before something else took root in his chest—worry.