The room was too quiet, save for the soft, unsteady breaths coming from Lara's lips as she lay sprawled across her bed.
My mind was still catching up to what had just happened.
Lara was wasted. That much was obvious. But it wasn't just the Silvermoon cocktails I had smelled on her. There was something else, a faint, unfamiliar scent woven into the alcohol, something that made my stomach twist.
Something foreign.
Something wrong.
"Riven."
His head turned slightly, but he didn't look at me. Not right away.
I stepped closer, my voice steady despite the way my heart was pounding in my chest. "You know something, don't you?"
That got his attention.
His shoulders tensed, and finally, he met my gaze.
It was unreadable at first. That same stoic, detached expression I had seen so many times before. But there was something beneath it, something lurking just beneath the surface.
Something like… restraint.
He exhaled slowly through his nose, crossing his arms over his chest. "No."
Liar.
I took another step forward, my voice dropping lower. "Don't do that. Don't act like you don't care. You looked at her like..." I cut myself off, narrowing my eyes. "Like you recognized something."
Riven's jaw ticked. A tiny, almost imperceptible movement.
I wasn't imagining this.
He was hiding something.
I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into my palms. "If you know anything, now is the time to tell me. Lara was missing all afternoon. She came back like… this." I gestured toward her sleeping form, my stomach twisting. "And I have a very bad feeling that she didn't just go out for drinks."
Riven held my gaze, his storm-gray eyes unwavering, but he didn't speak.
I wanted to scream.
He knew. He knew something.
But instead of answering, he just exhaled, shaking his head. "Athena, just let it go for tonight."
Let it go?
I stepped even closer, my voice sharper now. "Are you serious? That's my sister lying there. She came home wasted, talking nonsense about some guy she 'found,' and you're telling me to let it go?"
Riven didn't flinch.
He just held my gaze, unmoving. "There are things you won't understand."
My blood ran cold.
"Then make me understand."
Silence.
He wasn't going to tell me.
Frustration burned in my chest, coiling tight, and for a second, I considered pushing harder, demanding answers.
But then Lara shifted in her sleep, mumbling something under her breath.
I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to unclench my fists.
Not now.
I had to focus on her first.
I could drag the truth out of Riven later.
I reached for the blanket at the end of Lara's bed, pulling it over her. She curled into it instinctively, her breathing deepening.
Then, without looking at Riven, I spoke.
"You should go."
I felt him hesitate, but I didn't turn around.
After a few beats of silence, he replied.
"Fine."
His voice was even. Controlled. But I didn't miss the slight edge in it.
I finally turned just in time to see him running a hand through his hair, his jaw still tight, like he was biting back something else.
Something I wasn't supposed to know.
Something he wasn't ready to say.
But I wasn't done with this.
Not even close.
As he turned toward the door, I spoke again, my voice quiet but firm.
"If you're lying to me, I'll find out."
Riven stopped mid-step.
For a second, I thought he was going to say something. Thought he might finally tell me what was buried beneath that unreadable mask.
But instead, he just let out a short breath, a humorless almost-laugh.
"You always do, don't you?"
And then he was gone.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone in the silence.
The silence settled around me like a thick fog, wrapping around my thoughts, suffocating my ability to focus on anything other than the sinking feeling in my gut.
I stared at the closed door for a long moment, waiting, almost expecting Riven to change his mind, to walk back in and say something, anything.
But he didn't.
And I was left alone.
With my sister unconscious on the bed.
With a thousand unanswered questions.
With the distinct, unshakable knowledge that something was very, very wrong.
I turned back toward Lara, her chest now rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. She looked peaceful like this. But I knew it wasn't real.
Something had happened to her tonight.
And I was going to find out what.
I carefully removed her shoes, setting them at the foot of the bed, then adjusted the blanket around her.
I hesitated before reaching for her wrist, checking for any bruises or marks. Nothing.
But the smell clinging to her was still there, lingering in the air.
My stomach twisted, but I pushed down the rising anxiety, exhaling sharply as I stepped back.
I needed to clear my head.
I needed a moment to think.
I made my way down the stairs, the soft hum of distant city noise through the windows.
I stepped into the kitchen, reaching for my bottle of water, taking slow sips as I tried to piece everything together.
Lara had disappeared for hours. She hadn't answered her comm crystal. She had come back drunk, incoherent, talking about some man of her dreams.
And Riven...
I clenched my jaw, gripping the bottle tighter.
He knew something.
I replayed the moment in my mind, the way his fingers had twitched at his sides, the way his jaw had gone tight, the way he had looked at Lara like he recognized something.
He wasn't just concerned. He was disturbed.
And that scared me more than I wanted to admit.
I set the bottle down, pressing my palms against the counter.
I needed to figure out where Lara had been. Who she had seen. What she had done.
Because this wasn't just a night out gone wrong.
I could feel it in my bones.
Something bigger was at play.
And I wasn't about to sit back and do nothing.
The weight of the night sat heavily on my shoulders, pressing down like an invisible force, making it impossible to think about anything else.
At least Myrren was still tied up with Council business, which, for once, was a relief. I didn't need her questions. I didn't need her sharp, assessing gaze picking apart my worry.
I made my way upstairs, pausing by Lara's door, listening.
Her breathing was steady. Deep in sleep.
She wouldn't wake up anytime soon.
I sighed and turned toward my own room.
The second I stepped inside, my gaze landed on the guitar waiting for me on my bed.
I had completely forgotten about it.
Forgotten about my first recorded song, forgotten about the moment that had meant something to me.
So much had happened since then.
I walked over, smoothing a hand over the guitar case, my fingers running along the cool surface like I was seeking comfort from it.
A tether to something solid. Familiar. Mine.
I unlatched the case, lifting the lid carefully.
Inside, the most perfect guitar I had ever seen gleamed under the soft glow of my bedside lamp.
Deep, rich red with black borders, every detail polished to perfection. The tuning pegs, bridge, and control knobs were a striking gold: sleek, elegant, almost too perfect to touch.
But I did.
I lifted it carefully, settling its weight in my hands. It felt solid, grounding: something real in the midst of everything unraveling around me.
I wanted to test it out, to see how it sounded. But I was too drained after today's unexpected turn of events.
Sighing, I set the guitar carefully back into its case, running my fingers along the smooth finish one last time before closing the lid.
I grabbed a fresh set of clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the weight of the evening.
When I finally climbed into bed, exhaustion wrapped around me like a blanket, heavier than I expected.
I pulled the covers over myself, sinking into the warmth, my body finally allowing itself to rest.
Tomorrow was the weekend.
And I was relieved.
This week had already taken its toll on me.
And something told me…
It wasn't over yet.
At some point in the night I felt a strange restlessness clawing at my chest, dragging me toward wakefulness without fully letting me escape the haze of sleep. My body felt heavy, my limbs sinking deeper into the mattress, yet something wasn't right.
Then, the tingling started.
It began as a faint sensation on my arm, just above my wrist, exactly where the Ancient Rune was etched on my skin. A subtle hum at first, like static brushing against my skin.
Then cold.
Ice-cold, sinking into my bones.
I shivered, my body tensing as the sensation spread, sharp and unnatural.
The air around me shifted.
I wasn't alone.
A soft, barely-there murmur curled through the darkness.
Then another.
Then more.
Whispers, tangled and chaotic, seeping into my ears, their words just out of reach, like echoes slipping through my fingers before I could catch them.
The sound wasn't coming from my room.
It was coming from inside me.
My breathing hitched as something brushed against my arm: light, fleeting, like fingertips ghosting over my skin.
Then it tightened.
Gripping me.
I gasped, but the air felt wrong, like I was suddenly submerged underwater.
A suffocating pressure wrapped around me, dragging me down, down, down. My lungs burned, my body tensed, desperate for breath.
The whispers grew louder, more insistent, their words twisting into something frantic, urgent and desperate.
And then I heard it: A voice, clearer than the rest.
A voice that sent an icy shiver down my spine.
"Find me."
I sat up in bed, my chest heaving, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
The weight of the dream, or whatever it was, still clung to me, thick and suffocating, my skin damp with sweat despite the cold that had wrapped around me moments ago.
I blinked hard, trying to find my bearings, but the world around me felt warped, disjointed. The shadows in my room seemed longer, stretching unnaturally, the silence pressing in on me like it had weight.
My heart felt heavy. Heavy with sadness.
I sucked in a shaky breath, my hands clenching the sheets as the last word I had heard echoed in my ears, lingering, whispering through the hollow spaces in my mind.
"Find me."
A chill crawled down my spine.
I didn't understand it. Didn't know why the words cut through me like a blade, slicing open something raw inside me.
But they did.
And before I could stop it, tears spilled from my eyes. One after another.
A sob tore from my throat, then another, my shoulders shaking as I crumbled under the weight of something I couldn't name.
I buried my face in my hands, the quiet of my room swallowed by the sound of my own uncontrollable sobbing.
Because I wasn't just afraid.
I was grieving.
For something, or someone, I didn't even remember.