My breath was still uneven, my hands trembling slightly from the aftershock of what I had just experienced.
I turned to Riven, my voice barely steady. "Was that… normal?"
His gray eyes flickered, studying me. "Define normal."
I shot him a glare. "Don't start with me right now."
His lips quirked slightly, but the amusement didn't reach his eyes. He exhaled slowly, raking a hand through his hair. "No, Athena. That was not normal. Most people don't get dragged into visions like that."
I frowned. "So why me?"
He hesitated for a second too long.
And that hesitation told me everything.
He knew. Or at least, he had a theory.
Before I could press him, the air suddenly shifted.
The energy around us thickened, darkened.
A slow, creeping sensation, like something foreign was pushing its way into the space around us.
The temperature dropped.
A flicker of movement in the corner of my vision.
I turned sharply: nothing.
But the unease clawing up my spine told me something was there.
"Riven…?"
I stepped closer to him, instinct taking over, my pulse kicking up.
Riven had gone rigid, his entire body tensed, his gaze sweeping the ruins like he was expecting something, or someone to appear.
He cursed under his breath. Low and sharp.
"We need to leave. Now."
Riven didn't have to tell me twice. We both moved.
Fast. Urgent.
The moment my feet hit the uneven ground, I could feel it: something pressing in behind us.
The sensation of being watched sank into my skin, heavier than before.
The energy in the ruins was changing, warping. Whatever was here wasn't just lingering anymore. It was awake.
Riven reached the motorcycle first, throwing a leg over the seat as I rushed toward him.
But something made me look back. And that's when I saw it.
A figure.
Tall. Still. Watching.
Half-shrouded in the shadows of the ruins, their presence too solid, too deliberate to be just another trick of the failing light.
But it wasn't just the figure itself that made my stomach twist.
It was the eyes.
Cold. Knowing. Unwavering.
The same ones I had seen in the vision.
The same ones that had locked onto me through the chaos of the battlefield.
My breath caught. No. That's not possible.
I blinked, and the figure was gone.
Vanished. Like it had never been there at all.
But I knew what I saw.
I knew.
I scrambled onto the bike behind Riven, my hands gripping his jacket tighter than I meant to.
"Go."
Riven didn't question it.
He revved the engine, and we tore out of the ruins, the wind swallowing whatever was left behind.
The ride back was long.
Long enough for the adrenaline to fade, for my pulse to settle, but not long enough to shake the weight pressing down on my chest.
I still felt it.
The vision. The war. The figure.
Those cold, soulless eyes.
I tightened my grip around Riven's jacket, my knuckles stiff from how hard I was holding on.
By the time we reached Northern Lowmere, the sun was beginning its descent, dipping low behind the horizon.
Riven didn't take me straight into the city.
Instead, he pulled the bike off the road near the cliffs, where the ocean stretched endlessly below. The waves crashed far beneath us, their distant roar a steady, grounding rhythm against the silence.
I climbed off the bike, inhaling slowly, letting the sea air fill my lungs.
I needed this. The quiet. The open air.
Riven said nothing as he dropped onto the grass, resting his arms on his knees, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
After a moment, I followed, settling beside him.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
I hugged my knees to my chest, watching the sun slip lower, painting the sky in hues of gold and violet.
I inhaled slowly, willing the cool air to settle the unease inside me.
But it didn't work.
Because no matter how far we were from those ruins, I still felt it.
That presence. That energy.
That creeping, suffocating wrongness that had slithered through the air before we ran away.
I clenched my hands into the fabric of my pants, staring at the waves below.
"That wasn't just some lingering magic, was it?"
Riven let out a slow breath beside me, his posture relaxed, but not entirely.
"No."
The confirmation sent a shiver down my spine.
I turned my head slightly, studying his expression. "Then what the hell was it?"
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he stared at the horizon, jaw tightening slightly, like he was weighing his words.
Choosing them carefully.
"You felt it too, didn't you?"
I swallowed, my fingers curling against my legs. "It wasn't just a feeling."
I exhaled sharply. "It was like watching. Waiting. Like it knew we were there."
Riven nodded slowly. "Because it did."
The way he said it—so certain, so matter-of-fact—made my stomach twist.
I let out a shaky breath, shaking my head. "I don't like that."
Riven huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no amusement in it. "Good. You shouldn't."
I frowned, my pulse still uneven. "You recognized it, didn't you?"
His silence stretched a second too long.
Too long. He knew something.
I could see it in the way his fingers curled slightly against the grass, in the way his shoulders held tension that hadn't been there before.
He wasn't just being careful with his words, he was holding something back.
I opened my mouth to push him, to demand he tell me what he knew.
But before I could, he changed the subject.
"Didn't know you were into music."
I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "What?"
Riven didn't look at me, his gaze still on the horizon. "The guitar. You had it with you yesterday."
I hesitated. "Yeah, it was an unexpected gift."
He nodded slightly. "Didn't know you played."
I exhaled, stretching my legs out in front of me. "There's a lot you don't know about me."
His smirk was faint, but it was there. "Fair enough."
I focused on the waves, keeping my expression neutral. Keeping my thoughts contained.
Because if I wasn't careful, I'd slip.
And I couldn't afford that.
Not when the image of the figure at the ruins was still burned into my mind.
The one that stood there, watching. The one I almost recognized.
The one I didn't tell Riven about.
I should have. I knew I should have.
But the words stuck, heavy on my tongue.
So when Riven let the silence stretch before speaking again, I grabbed onto the distraction like a lifeline.
"So… are you any good?"
I huffed a quiet laugh. "Not terrible."
Riven turned his head slightly, finally glancing at me. "Is that an actual answer, or are you just being cryptic?"
I shrugged. "Guess you'll never know."
He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Figures."
For a moment, the conversation felt normal, something easy, something I didn't have to overthink. I let myself lean into it, pushing everything that had happened earlier to the back of my mind and focusing on the present.
The sky deepened into shades of red and violet, the last streaks of gold disappearing beyond the horizon. A cool breeze swept in from the ocean, carrying the crisp scent of salt and something colder beneath it.
Riven shifted beside me, then he stood.
I looked up as he stretched, his movements slow, effortless. His gaze flickered down to me, unreadable as always, before he extended a hand.
An invitation. A moment.
I hesitated, staring at his outstretched fingers, my pulse skipping for reasons I didn't want to think about.
I lifted my hand, and then my stomach grumbled. Loudly.
The moment shattered.
Heat crawled up my neck, and I groaned, mortified.
Riven, of course, just smirked. Smug. Knowing. Like he had been expecting it.
I scowled. "Not a word."
He chuckled, ignoring me completely as he grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet.
His touch was warm, rough calluses against my skin, and for a split second, it felt too natural.
Too easy.
I quickly let go, brushing nonexistent dust from my pants, trying to regain my dignity.
Riven just tilted his head toward the bike. "Let's get you something to eat."
I rolled my eyes but didn't argue as I followed him.
Because, honestly? Food sounded like a great idea.
The streets of North Lowmere were quieter at this hour, lanterns casting warm glows against the stone pathways. Unlike the pristine, polished elegance of Lysoria, everything here felt lived-in, touched by time and magic that had settled into the bones of the city.
Riven pulled the bike into a narrow street lined with small storefronts, stopping in front of a cozy, tucked-away restaurant with golden light spilling from its windows.
The scent hit me first: warm spices, roasted meat, something floral and sweet lingering beneath it. It was the kind of smell that could wrap around you like a memory.
My stomach grumbled again.
Riven smirked, shutting off the bike. "Told you I'd take care of you, Athens."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't make it sound like a favour."
He just chuckled as he climbed off the bike, adjusting his jacket before walking toward the restaurant's entrance.
As we stepped inside, the warmth from the lanterns immediately replaced the crisp night air. The restaurant was small but inviting, the kind of place untouched by time. Wooden beams lined the ceiling, and shelves filled with dried herbs and bottles of aged spirits ran along the walls.
The hum of magic lingered here: not overt, not overwhelming, but present, woven into the space like an old spell.
And then I saw her.
An elderly woman stepped out from behind the counter, wiping her hands on her apron as she glanced our way.
Her silver tattoos shimmered faintly against her olive skin, tracing elegant patterns from her temples down to her jawline. They weren't just decorative, they marked her.
Fae-born.
Her sharp gaze flicked toward Riven, unimpressed but familiar. "Ah, Riven. Finally brought someone worth feeding?"
Her sharp eyes flicked toward me, appraising.
"Who's this one?"
Riven smirked, leaning against the counter. "Someone in desperate need of a meal."
I scowled. "I can introduce myself, thanks."
The woman raised a single brow, then nodded approvingly. "I like her already."
Riven just chuckled, shaking his head. "We'll take the usual."
The woman hummed before disappearing into the kitchen.
I turned to Riven, crossing my arms. "You have a usual?"
He shrugged. "Best food in North Lowmere. Why mess with perfection?"
I shook my head but let it slide, exhaling as I took in the restaurant again. The warmth, the scent, the easy atmosphere.
I wasn't sure what I had been expecting when he pulled me off the road.
But somehow, this was better.
We settled at a table near the window, the warm glow of lanterns flickering against the glass, casting faint reflections of the world outside.
I leaned back against my chair, watching as Riven stretched out comfortably, his gaze flickering toward the kitchen for a brief second.
Riven smirked, tilting his head slightly as if debating how much to say. "Zion brought me here," he admitted, his gaze drifting across the room like he was seeing something beyond just walls and tables. "First time I got to Northern Lowmere, he was showing me around. We ended up here."
I raised a brow. "And what, you just decided this was your place?"
Riven's smirk deepened, but there was something almost thoughtful behind it. "Something like that. The food's good. The company's tolerable."
I huffed a laugh. "High standards you've got there."
He shrugged, glancing toward the kitchen again. "Reminds me of home."
That caught my attention.
I studied him, watching the way his fingers traced absent patterns on the wooden table, the way his expression grew distant. Like he was seeing something I couldn't.
"And where is home?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.
For a moment, Riven didn't answer.
His gaze drifted past me, past the window, past the glowing lanterns outside, as if he were staring across miles and miles of distance.
"All the way to the South," he finally said, his voice quieter than before.
South.
I didn't miss the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly, as if the word itself carried weight.
I parted my lips to ask another question, but before I could, our food arrived.
The fae woman set down two plates before us, the aroma immediately making my stomach tighten in anticipation.
Slow-roasted meat, seasoned vegetables, golden slices of warm bread, and a side of something that smelled both rich and slightly sweet.
Riven murmured a quiet thanks before she walked away.
I glanced down at my plate, then back at him. "Alright, I'll admit. This does look..." I paused, inhaling deeply. "...pretty damn good."
Riven smirked as he picked up his fork. "Told you."
I rolled my eyes but didn't argue.
Instead, I picked up my fork and took my first bite.
A soft moan escaped me before I could stop it, my eyes slipping shut for a second as the flavours melted on my tongue: rich, perfectly spiced, the kind of warmth that spread through my chest like comfort itself.
I barely had time to swallow before muttering, "Okay, fine. This is ridiculously good."
Across the table, Riven's smirk had faded.
He wasn't just watching me, he was staring.
Something unreadable flickered behind his gaze, sharp and focused, like my reaction had caught him off guard. Like, for a second, he'd forgotten where we were.
The air between us shifted, thick with something unspoken, charged.
His fingers drummed idly against the table, his expression still composed, but his eyes? They lingered.
Too long. Too intently.
Heat curled in my stomach, but I forced myself to keep my voice light. "What?"
Riven blinked once, slow, before his lips curved slightly.
"Nothing."
But the way he said it?
It didn't feel like nothing at all.