It was already late when Riven finally got home.
The lights were dim, the apartment quiet. As he stepped inside, the first thing he saw was Eli and Lior curled up together on the sofa. Lior had clearly fallen asleep waiting for him—his small body sprawled across Eli's lap, one foot pressed against his stomach, the other arm draped lazily across his neck.
Riven smiled, then let out a soft laugh.
The blanket had slipped to the floor. Lior's hair stuck up in wild tufts. And Eli—Eli didn't seem to mind at all.
Riven moved closer, slow and quiet, just watching them. He hadn't expected Eli to be this gentle with Lior. Hadn't expected Lior to trust him so easily.
Then his gaze shifted.
And for the first time, Riven saw Eli without his glasses.
He froze.
Eli's face was all clean geometry and quiet strength. His jaw cut in deliberate lines, cheekbones catching the lamplight like polished stone. There was symmetry to him—too precise to be chance. As if he'd been made to draw attention without uttering a word.
And his eyes— Even closed, Riven remembered them. Slate-grey with a violet undertone. Familiar, strange, magnetic. The kind of gaze that pulled people in, daring them to guess what he was thinking. What he was hiding.
Then Eli's eyes fluttered open.
Riven flinched—not just at the sudden movement, but at being caught staring.
"Riven," Eli murmured, voice still thick with sleep.
"Did I wake you?" Riven asked, awkwardly stepping back.
Eli shook his head. "No."
He shifted carefully, adjusting Lior so the boy didn't stir, then pushed himself upright with slow ease.
Riven stayed where he was, at a loss for words. He hadn't meant to stare. Hadn't meant to feel anything at all. But something about Eli—about this quiet moment—felt like déjà vu, like stepping into a memory that had been waiting for him.
"I didn't even realize I fell asleep," Eli said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Lior wouldn't sleep in your room without you, so I let him crash here with me."
Riven glanced at his son, curled up peacefully on the couch. His little hand rested on Eli's chest, one foot draped across his stomach like he owned the space.
"You know he doesn't sleep well around strangers," Riven murmured, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "But clearly, he doesn't see you as one anymore."
He looked at Eli, eyes warm. "You're the first person he's ever let get close. He's comfortable with you. That means something."
Eli smiled and brushed a gentle hand over Lior's cheek. "I'm honored. Really."
Then he reached for the table and picked up an envelope. "Oh—Thayer asked me to give you this."
Riven took it, curious. Inside was a sleek invitation—elegant, embossed, unmistakably formal.
"A cruise masquerade party?" he said, brows lifting.
"Yeah. That was supposed to be your meeting today," Eli explained. "Since you couldn't make it, the Emperor stepped in and helped finalize the concept for the Nexus anniversary celebration."
Riven's eyes lingered on the date stamped in gold foil—until his chest went still, the invitation suddenly heavy in his hand.
Eli noticed. "What's wrong?"
Riven forced a smile, brittle at the edges. "No reason. It's fine."
But it wasn't. That date—it was his birthday. He'd planned to take Lior out, just the two of them, like they did every year. Now… work came first.
Eli seemed to catch the shift in his mood. "Oh, right—before I forget. All employees get a plus one. You can bring Lior. And if you're worried about keeping an eye on him, Thayer and I can help out."
Something loosened in Riven then, a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. For the first time that day, his chest eased.
"You sure?" he asked, voice softer now.
"Of course," Eli said with a grin. "You're not leaving him behind, are you?"
Riven looked at Lior again, sleeping soundly between them. "No," he said quietly. "Never."
"But it's a party and—"
"I'm not really into parties," Eli cut in, slipping his glasses back on as he stood. A faint, wry twist curved his mouth.
"I'll show up for attendance, that's all. The Emperor hates it when people skip the Annual Founding Anniversary. Sacred, he calls it. Mandatory. No exceptions."
He glanced at Riven, then toward the door. "Since you're home, I'll head back to my unit. You should rest too."
Riven followed him to the door.
"Get some sleep," Eli said softly as he stepped out.
"Thanks again," Riven replied with a small smile, then closed the door behind him.
The apartment was quiet. On the sofa, Lior was still fast asleep—curled like a kitten, limbs sprawled, mouth slightly open. Riven walked over, crouched down, and smiled.
"Alright, sleepyhead," he whispered, scooping the boy into his arms. "Let's get you to bed."
Lior stirred, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, head tucking against his shoulder.
"Papa," he mumbled.
"Papa's here," Riven whispered, stroking his back.
"I missed you… don't leave Lior."
Riven laughed softly. "Silly. I'm not going anywhere."
He laid Lior gently on the bed, tucking the blanket around him. "Papa will stay right here. Always. I'll protect you."
Lior's eyes fluttered shut. His voice came again, quiet, dreamy.
"Lior and Dada will protect Papa too…"
Riven froze.
His breath caught. Peaceful and unaware, Lior had no idea what he'd just said.
Dada.
The word hit like ice down his spine.
A father Lior had never known. A man Riven could barely remember. Just fragments—hands steadying him, the warmth of being held like he mattered. And above all—
That scent.
Gardenia.
Riven stood abruptly, heart hammering. Heat flared beneath his skin, the air thickening around him. His pheromones slipped loose, wild, blooming into the room like a memory he couldn't suppress.
He hadn't meant to think about him. But his body remembered. His scent remembered.
And it betrayed him.
S-Class Alpha or not, his pheromones didn't care. They rose heavy in the air—longing, grief, unfinished.