The cruise had already docked, and guests were beginning to disembark. Riven stayed behind in his suite, sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed as he waited for Thayer and Lior.
A soft knock at the door cut through the quiet. He pushed himself up slowly, every movement a sharp reminder that his body was not his own tonight. His lower half felt unsteady, weakened, and it infuriated him.
He was merciless, Riven thought, heat rising to his cheeks. Five years keeping myself untouched, only to give in like that? His jaw tightened. He didn't even show his face… and still, I let him have me.
The memory pressed closer—the weight of those hands, the whispered praise, the kind of intimacy he had sworn he no longer needed. Too familiar, too dangerous. His chest ached with something he refused to name, and heat stirred where it shouldn't.
"Stop it," he muttered under his breath.
But the air betrayed him. A faint gardenia scent, laced with violet, slipped free without his consent. His body was reacting as though it still longed for that touch, releasing omega-like pheromones from nothing more than a thought.
He drew a slow breath, steadied himself, and turned the knob.
The door opened to Lior's wide grin.
"Papa!" The boy launched forward, small arms tightening around his waist.
Riven bit down hard on his lip as pain jolted through his side. Still, he forced a smile and smoothed a hand over the boy's hair. "Were you a good boy?"
"Lior was a good boy," the child answered proudly, tilting his face up to meet his father's gaze.
"I'm proud of you," Riven said softly, kissing the crown of his head before looking past him at Thayer, who lingered in the doorway.
"How's—" he began, but Thayer cut him off gently.
"There's no need to ask. The Emperor handled everything." His tone carried no judgment, only quiet reassurance.
Riven lowered his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "I see."
"We've already docked. It's time to disembark. Eli is waiting outside."
Riven blinked, a flicker of surprise showing. "He came back?"
Thayer gave a short nod. "He couldn't leave early after hearing what happened. He insisted on coming back for you."
For the first time that day, Riven allowed himself a small smile—thin, weary, but genuine.
Riven guided Lior by the hand as they left the suite and began their descent from the cruise. The boy skipped at his side, but Riven walked with measured care, every step reminding him of the lingering ache that burned through his body. He forced his movements to look natural, though inside he cursed the man who had left him in this state.
At the foot of the ramp, Eli waited. The young man lifted a hand in an awkward wave. Riven answered with the smallest of smiles, all the while concentrating on keeping his stride steady.
"I'm sorry for—" Eli began as they drew closer.
"It's fine," Riven cut in quickly. "Thayer said you were seasick."
While he spoke, Lior studied him curiously. The boy's gaze drifted to Riven's neck, and his eyes widened.
"Papa," he piped up, "what happened to your neck?"
Riven froze. Heat rushed to his face. In a heartbeat, he tugged his polo collar higher, but the black undershirt beneath did little to hide the faint red marks marring his skin. Bite marks. His stomach turned.
Damn him. He couldn't even leave me the decency of a shirt to cover his mess? No, of course not. He had to brand me like property.
"It's nothing. Just… mosquito bites," Riven muttered. His voice sounded strained, even to himself.
The room—or rather, the dockside—seemed to still. Eli and Thayer gave no reaction, their faces smooth, unreadable. Their silence was deliberate, Riven knew. A mercy. And somehow, that made it worse.
"Mosquito bites? But Dada's big ship has mosquitoes?" Lior asked, tilting his head.
Riven blinked, thrown. "Wait—what?"
The boy's hand flew to his mouth as if he had said too much. He darted behind Eli's legs, peeking out only to gauge Riven's expression.
Thayer's eyes flicked once toward Eli—toward Nyxen in disguise—but the young man didn't so much as flinch. His mask held perfectly.
Riven narrowed his eyes, crouching instinctively to press the question, but the sharp pain in his side stopped him cold. He clenched his jaw, breathing through it.
Damn it. Damn him. Damn this whole cursed night.
His jaw tightened as another silent curse for that night's stranger burned on his tongue.
"Are you alright?" Eli asked, his hand half-raised as though to steady him.
"I'm fine," Riven snapped, pulling slightly away and forcing himself upright.
"The Emperor's car is waiting nearby," Thayer interjected smoothly. "I'll take you home."
"No." Riven's answer came too quickly, too defensive. What is he doing—playing at courtesy after everything? That monster.
"I insist," Thayer replied evenly. "The Emperor won't allow you to return unescorted, not after what happened."
"Eli's with us," Riven countered flatly.
"I didn't bring a car," Eli said quietly, meeting his eyes. "And the bus stop is too far to walk… especially with Lior."
Riven's throat worked. He hated how true that was. Every muscle in his body throbbed with fatigue, and carrying his son was out of the question. He had no strength left to argue.
"I'll fetch the car," Thayer said quickly, and hurried off before Riven could protest further.
A few minutes later the sleek black vehicle rolled up to the pier, Thayer behind the wheel. Eli opened the rear door, guiding Lior inside before gesturing for Riven to follow. Once the boy was settled, Riven slid in with a stiff motion. To his surprise, Eli climbed in after them, taking the seat beside him.
"I'd feel awkward up front," he offered as an excuse.
Riven said nothing, only leaning his head back against the seat.
"Papa, are you okay?" Lior asked, his small hand tugging at his sleeve.
"I'm fine," Riven whispered, forcing a smile. "Just a little tired."
"Then let's talk, Lior," Eli said smoothly, turning the boy toward him. "Give your papa some rest."
What startled Riven was how quickly Lior obeyed. No fuss, no questions—just silence and compliance, as though the boy had been waiting for Eli's voice all along.
Riven's eyes narrowed slightly. That's not like him. Normally, Lior argued, bargained, asked for one more story, one more question. But now? He folded under a stranger's tone without hesitation. It wasn't obedience. It was something heavier, almost instinctive.
Unsettled, Riven shut his eyes, but the thought lingered like a shadow. Why does he listen to him so easily?
"Drive," Eli said softly to Thayer.
The car eased away from the pier.