Riven was already sweating buckets under the silk sheets before the bedroom door even opened.
The suppressant pills had clearly clocked out hours ago, and now his body was staging a full-blown mutiny. His skin burned like it was auditioning for a fever drama. His stomach flipped like it was either about to cry, vomit, or ascend to another plane of existence.
Then he heard it. The soft chime of the front door unlocking.
Okay. No big deal. Stay calm. Just pretend to be asleep. That's what Ria said.
Except… there was only one set of footsteps.
Heavy. Confident. A little cocky, even.
"Great," Riven thought, burying himself deeper under the covers. "Just one Alpha. What could possibly go wrong?"
Answer: everything.
The bedroom door creaked open but he stayed still. Face down. Eyes shut. Brain screaming.
The scent hit him first.
Oh.
Oh no.
It was strong. Spicy. Masculine in a way that made his thighs twitch involuntarily. His entire nervous system practically stood at attention like: Sir, yes sir, we are ready to ruin our lives now, sir.
No. Nope. Absolutely not.
He had taken the pills. He had followed Ria's weird heat-prep ritual. So why was his body acting like it was about to spontaneously combust?
The Alpha stepped in. Closer. Sat down on the edge of the bed like he owned the place—and maybe he did, emotionally, spiritually, and financially. Riven didn't know. He wasn't allowed to ask questions.
Then came the voice.
"Ria?"
Riven's soul briefly left his body.
It was low. Hoarse. Sleepy in a way that shouldn't have been hot but very much was. He had to clench his fists just to keep from making a noise.
He didn't answer.
He couldn't. If he opened his mouth, the jig was up. His voice didn't sound anything like Ria's and he wasn't about to squeak out a "yeah baby" and hope for the best.
The Alpha leaned in.
Riven felt breath against his neck.
And then the worst possible sound: a deep inhale. Like the man was trying to smell his soul.
"You smell different," the Alpha muttered.
Oh no. Abort. ABORT.
Riven's heart dropped straight into his stomach. He was panicking. Full-blown lizard-brain panic. Surely the scent blockers hadn't worn off that badly, right?
Right?
A hand touched his ankle.
He nearly leapt out of his skin.
It wasn't rough—just warm and curious. Then it slid up, slow and casual, to his knee.
Riven forgot how to breathe.
"You're not asleep," the Alpha said again, this time with a smirk in his voice.
Riven still didn't answer. Still couldn't.
His whole body was on edge, confused, overheating, and wildly unqualified for this performance. He was supposed to lie there, look tired, smell pretty, and that was it. Not… whatever this was.
"You're shaking," the Alpha whispered, voice now softer.
Yes. Congratulations, sir. That's because you're terrifying and hot and Riven's heat was trying to do parkour through his bloodstream.
"You've never acted like this before."
Still thought he was Ria. Which was good. Ish. Except for the fact that this man had his hand halfway under the nightgown now.
Riven's thighs clenched together on instinct.
The Alpha didn't stop.
Instead, he slid his fingers beneath the silk a little further, just barely grazing skin. Riven whimpered. Accidentally.
And that was apparently all the encouragement the man needed.
Things escalated. Fast.
The nightgown ended up around Riven's hips before he could even think the word "consent." His face hit the pillow, his brain said "we're out," and his body said, "guess we're doing this now."
He was moved like a doll. Positioned. Touched. Warm hands found his waist, his hips, his thighs.
His heat? Yeah, it laughed in his face and turned the dial to "melt."
He was soaked. Trembling. Barely holding on to coherent thought.
Then—new scent.
Another Alpha.
Wait. What?
He didn't even hear the door open. One second it was a very overwhelming party of one. The next, it was a group project from hell.
Someone kissed his shoulder. Another set of hands tangled in his hair. Someone murmured something low and unintelligible.
He wanted to protest. He really did.
But his body? His traitorous, heat-fried body?
It let them.
All of them.
Riven lost track of who was where. Who kissed what. Who bit him—oh God, someone definitely bit him. On his neck. Hard.
And it was like something snapped inside him.
Pain first. Then warmth. Then a dizzying, terrifying rush of bonding.
Everything blurred after that. He didn't even remember the end. Just heat, scent, hands, mouths, biting, gasping, and then—nothing.
*****
When Riven woke up, he wanted to die.
Not in the dramatic, "ugh I'm so embarrassed" way. In the very real, very my-back-hurts-and-I-can't-feel-my-legs way.
The bed was a crime scene. Sheets everywhere. Pillows on the floor. The room reeked of sex and heat. He groaned and rolled onto his side, wincing when he felt just how sore he was.
Then the memories came back.
The heat. The Alphas. The bite.
The… bond.
He sat up too fast and immediately regretted it. His legs stuck together uncomfortably. He was still in the nightgown. Everything ached. His brain screamed.
Stumbling to the mirror, he squinted at his reflection.
Mess.
Hair everywhere. Red marks across his chest. Swollen lip. Bite on his neck.
Bite on his neck.
"Oh no," he whispered, touching it gently. It throbbed under his fingers.
He looked lower. Bruises. Scratches. More bite marks. One on his inner thigh that made him physically recoil.
And the scent—Alpha. Alphas. Plural. It was still clinging to his skin like smoke.
"Oh my god," he whispered. "I've been bonded. I've been claimed. By someone. Or… someones???"
Panic rose.
"Ria's going to kill me," he muttered. "No. She's going to revive me just to kill me again."
He dragged both hands down his face and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the chaos he was now trapped in.
He didn't know who touched him.
He didn't know who bit him.
He didn't know who bonded him.
But one thing was very, very clear.
This was no longer just "pretend to be Ria for one night." This was a disaster. A sexy, chaotic, deeply confusing disaster.
And it was just getting started.