Eli woke to warmth.
Not the filtered sunlight through the trees, not the dew-damp grass beneath him — but the steady, living heat of Riven's body curled around his own. His cheek rested against fur, soft and matted, and for a moment, he didn't move. The world felt suspended, like the forest hadn't yet decided to wake.
Birdsong trickled in slowly. The air was cool, but Eli was cocooned in something deeper than temperature — a sense of being held.
Riven stirred beneath him.
Eli lifted his head, blinking against the light. Riven had shifted back — mostly. His body was human again, though his skin still shimmered faintly, and his eyes held a golden tint that hadn't been there before. He looked exhausted. Raw. Beautiful.
"You stayed," Riven said, voice hoarse.
Eli nodded. "Of course I did."
Riven looked away, jaw tight. "You should've run."
"I did," Eli said softly. "Toward you."
Silence stretched between them, but it wasn't empty. It was full — of everything they hadn't said, everything they'd felt in the dark.
Riven reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Eli's forehead. His fingers were rough, still trembling slightly.
"I could've hurt you."
"But you didn't."
"I wanted to," Riven whispered. "Not to harm you. Just… to take. To claim. It was like fire under my skin."
Eli leaned in, resting his forehead against Riven's. "You were gentle. Even when you weren't."
Riven closed his eyes, breathing him in. "I don't know what this means now."
"It means you're not alone," Eli said. "It means I saw you — all of you — and I stayed."
Riven's throat worked around a sound that didn't quite become words. He pulled Eli into a slow embrace, arms wrapping around him like he was afraid Eli might vanish with the morning mist.
They stayed like that for a while, the forest waking around them. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, dappling their skin. A squirrel chattered somewhere nearby. The world was returning — but Eli didn't feel ready to let go.
Eventually, Riven pulled back, eyes searching Eli's face. "We should head back. Everyone's packing."
Eli nodded, but didn't move. "Will you be okay?"
Riven hesitated. "I don't know. But I want you near."
Eli smiled, soft and tired. "Then let's go."
They stood slowly, brushing leaves and dirt from their clothes. Eli winced as he tested his knee — the scrape from last night still raw. Riven knelt, gently inspecting it, fingers ghosting over the dried blood.
"I'll carry you," he said.
Eli laughed. "I can walk."
"I know," Riven said. "But I want to."
So Riven lifted him — not because Eli needed it, but because he did. Because holding Eli grounded him. Because it reminded him that he hadn't lost control. That he'd been seen, and chosen.
As they walked back toward the cabins, the forest behind them felt quieter. Like it had witnessed something sacred and was letting them go gently.
Neither of them spoke. They didn't need to.
The retreat was ending. But something else was just beginning.