After that brief moment, we ate in comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
I finished my plate faster than I cared to admit.
Best. Meal. Ever.
Riven, on the other hand, took his time, cutting into his food with measured ease, but I didn't miss the faint flicker of amusement in his eyes when he caught me practically devouring mine.
I leaned back in my chair, exhaling in satisfaction as the warmth of the meal settled in my stomach, grounding me in a way I hadn't realized I needed.
Just as I set down my fork, Safyrr appeared again, collecting my empty plate.
She glanced at it, seemingly satisfied, before her sharp gaze flicked to me.
"You ate well," she noted, a hint of approval in her voice. "That means you respect the food. I like that."
I grinned. "Respect? More like complete devotion. That meal was divine."
Her lips quirked ever so slightly, the closest thing to a smile I'd seen from her. Then, with an appraising glance toward Riven, she remarked,"This one's a keeper."
I blinked.
Before I could even process the statement, Riven smirked. His voice dipped lower, edged with something dangerously smooth.
"Guess that means you're mine to keep, then."
Heat rushed to my face before I could stop it, a traitorous, unwelcome warmth curling beneath my skin.
I leaned back, raising a brow, masking the reaction with well-practiced sarcasm. "Think you can handle this hot mess?"
Riven's smirk deepened, slow and deliberate, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "I don't know, Athens. I do like a challenge."
A slow, charged silence stretched between us.
Safyrr cleared her throat, a knowing glint shone in her eyes as she glanced between the two of us.
"Flirting at my table, are we?" she mused, arching a delicate brow.
Riven, of course, looked completely unbothered. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms lazily behind his head. "She started it."
I gaped at him. "Excuse me?"
Safyrr chuckled, shaking her head as she stacked our empty plates.
"It's funny," she said, watching us. "How two people can stand so close to the fire and still pretend they don't feel the heat."
I blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by the remark.
For once, Riven didn't have a smart reply either.
Safyrr's smirk was subtle, teasing, like she was waiting for us to catch up to something she already knew.
With that, she walked back to the kitchen, leaving a charged tension in the air.
I looked anywhere but at Riven. He seemed to be doing the same.
After a beat, he stood, dragging a hand through his hair before muttering something about going to pay the bill.
I exhaled, standing as well, stretching before following him toward the counter.
Safyrr reappeared, wiping her hands on her apron. I hesitated for a second before speaking.
"Thank you Safyrr. That was honestly the best meal I've ever had."
Her expression softened slightly, the sharpness in her gaze easing.
"Good food is meant to be shared," she said simply.
I smiled. "I wish I could learn my way around a kitchen like you."
Her silver-tattooed brow lifted slightly. "Oh?"
I nodded. "I mean it. If you ever feel like passing down some of your wisdom, I'd love to learn."
Safyrr hummed thoughtfully before finally nodding. "Then come back." She wiped her hands once more and looked at me fully. "I'd love to have you in my kitchen. Stay a while, learn at your own pace, I'll teach you everything I can."
Warmth bloomed in my chest at the invitation, something about it felt… right.
"I will," I promised.
And somehow, I knew I meant it.
After saying our goodbyes, Riven and I stepped outside, the cool night air settling around us.
"Ready to head home?" he asked, his voice smooth, steady.
I looked at him, smiled briefly, and nodded.
Without another word, I climbed onto the bike, settling behind him. The moment my hands found their place around his waist, we tore into the night.
The streets of Lowmere were quieter now, lanterns flickering in the distance as the city slowed into its midnight rhythm.
Riven didn't rush the ride back. If anything, he rode slower than usual, the hum of the motorcycle blending with the wind, the weight of the evening settling around us like an unspoken thought neither of us wanted to acknowledge just yet.
But soon enough, the lights of Lysoria appeared, and before I knew it, we were pulling into my driveway.
Riven slowed to a stop, the soft purr of the engine cutting out as I climbed off the bike.
I hesitated, rubbing my arms as I stood there, unsure of what to say.
"Well… today was a lot," I said finally.
Riven let out a short chuckle, dragging a hand through his hair. "That's one way to put it."
He looked unfairly good like this, still seated on the bike, the night breeze tousling his hair, the sharp angles of his face softened just enough by the dim glow of the driveway lights. The contrast between the ruggedness of his posture and the quiet ease in his expression made it impossible to look away.
Before I could stop myself, I stepped closer.
Leaning in, I brushed a kiss against his cheek.
It was meant to be quick. A simple thank you.
But the second my lips touched his skin, something shifted.
Riven went still.
I pulled back slowly, looking up at him. "Thank you. For tonight." My voice was softer than I meant for it to be. "It might not have been what I expected, but… I needed it."
I hesitated, my chest tightening before the words broke free. "I trust you, Riven. I know you want to protect me and Lara from whatever danger is lurking, but… I need you to be safe too. You matter, just as much as we do."
Something flickered behind his eyes, something I couldn't quite place.
He looked like he wasn't going to say anything, but then, as if pulled by something beyond his control, his hand lifted.
His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face, trailing along my jaw, lingering as if committing the shape of me to memory. His gaze locked onto mine, stormy and unguarded, raw in a way I had never seen before.
"You make it impossible to walk away, Athens," he murmured, his voice low, heavy with meaning. "Even when I know I should."
It wasn't playful. It wasn't teasing. It was an unraveling, a quiet declaration of something inevitable.
We stood there, suspended in the moment, the weight of it pressing down on us.
The distance between us disappeared. My hands fisted into his jacket, gripping tight, like he was the only thing keeping me steady.
"I don't want this night to end," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Riven's thumb traced my cheek, his grip firm but careful.
"Neither do I."
And then, he slowly leaned in. I closed my eyes, my pulse quickening as his fingers curled against my skin, steady, deliberate.
The warmth of him, the quiet pull, drawing me closer, undeniable and consuming.
His breath fanned against my lips, and for a heartbeat, nothing else existed.
Our lips brushed, featherlight, lingering, heat sparking between us.
And just as the moment threatened to pull us under, a sudden, violent rush of wings tore through the night, splitting the silence apart.
Three crows.
They swooped down without warning, their croaks sharp, jarring, wings slicing through the air like jagged shadows.
The gust from their passing whipped against my skin, the force of it deliberate, unsettling.
I yelped, stumbling back, my heart slamming against my ribs.
Riven jerked away too, his head snapping up, his entire body going rigid, unnaturally still.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.
I looked toward the sky, my gaze trailing after the crows, but they had already disappeared into the night, swallowed by the darkness as if they had never been there at all.
The air around us felt different now.
Not just quiet, but charged with something else, something colder, something that made my skin prickle despite the stillness.
"That was weird," I muttered, rubbing my arms as unease crept up my spine.
Riven nodded absently, but his fingers flexed at his sides, his posture coiled with tension. Like he was waiting. Listening.
Then, just like that, his entire demeanor shifted.
The warmth from before, the teasing, the unspoken thing between us, all of it was gone.
His shoulders squared, his expression closed off, and when he spoke, his voice was firm, edged with something I couldn't quite place.
"Get inside, Athena. It's getting late."
The abruptness of it caught me off guard.
I frowned. "What's wrong?"
Riven didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked at me, really looked at me.
And for the first time tonight, I saw something else in his eyes.
Something closer to concern. Something he wasn't saying.
The unease in my chest tightened.
I swallowed, but I nodded anyway.
Without another word, I turned toward the door. Just as I reached it, his voice cut through the silence.
"Good night, Athena."
I glanced back, my fingers tightening around the doorknob.
He was still watching me, his expression unreadable, the crows long gone but their presence still lingering in the air.
I forced a small smile. "Good night, Riven."
He didn't move right away. Just stared at me, like he wanted to say something else.
But he didn't.
Instead, he started his engine, and disappeared into the night.
And yet, as I stepped inside, something sat heavy in my chest.
A strange, lingering unease pressed against me, settling in my bones like an echo I couldn't shake.
I hesitated at the door, glancing around once more, as if expecting to see… something.
But there was nothing.
Just the quiet hum of the night, the distant sway of trees in the wind, and the faint glow of the driveway lights flickering against the pavement.
And yet, I had the eerie sensation that something had been watching us from the shadows.
That it was still there. Waiting.
A slow chill crawled up my spine.
For some reason, my mind flashed back to the figure I saw as we left the ruins.
The one standing in the distance.
Still. Silent. Watching.
The memory hit harder now, the weight of it pressing in, like a puzzle piece I hadn't realized was missing.
Had it been a coincidence? Just my imagination playing tricks on me?
Or had that presence followed us? Followed me?
I swallowed hard, shaking my head as I locked the door behind me. I was being paranoid. Right?
And yet, I couldn't convince myself that was the truth.
Something had shifted tonight, and I couldn't tell if the unease came from what lingered outside, or from something stirring inside me.
I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I nearly walked past Myrren, hunched over the kitchen island, her Spectris casting a cold glow against her face.
She hadn't come home yesterday, and from the tension in her posture, it looked like she had only just returned.
Her hair was slightly disheveled, a rare sight. Myrren was always put together, always composed.
Yet here she was, frowning at her screen, frustration etched into every line of her face.
Against my better judgment, I called out to her.
"Myrren."
No reaction.
I hesitated, then spoke again. "Myrren."
Her head snapped up, her eyes flicking toward me as if she'd forgotten I live here too.
"Oh, Athena," she exhaled, pressing a hand to her chest. "You scared me."
I raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, you just looked… intense for a minute. Is everything alright? You didn't come home yesterday."
Myrren ran a hand through her hair, a small, fleeting movement, but it told me enough.
She was tired.
More than that, she was unraveling.
"Just Council business," she said quickly, waving it off. "Nothing for you to worry about."
I knew better than to push, but something in her tone felt off.
Before I could say anything, she redirected. "I thought you and Lara usually spend the weekend together?"
I shrugged. "Yeah, well, I had a date today, so…"
Myrren' gaze sharpened, curiosity gleaming behind her tired expression. "I see. A date, huh? Who's the lucky guy?"
Then, after a brief pause, her tone became more measured. "Was it the guy you were with on Lara's birthday?"
I hesitated, just for a second, before nodding.
Myrren watched me, her expression unreadable. Then, just like that, her shoulders straightened, her focus shifting.
"Be careful who you trust, Athena."
There it was again.
That warning.
The same warning I'd been given before. By Magnus, Professor Calix, and now Myrren.
But before I could ask her what she meant, she had already turned back to her Spectris, the conversation effectively over.
No surprise there. She always did that.
Dismiss. Deflect. Avoid.
I sighed, shaking my head as I turned toward the stairs, but something on her screen caught my eye.
The symbols.
Floating across the Spectris. Unfamiliar, intricate… familiar.
Too familiar.
My pulse slowed, then pounded.
I knew those symbols. Because I had seen them before.
They were the same markings left behind on the ballroom floor after the intruders crashed Lara's birthday party.
A chill crawled down my spine.
And suddenly, I wasn't so sure Myrren' late return had anything to do with Council business at all.