CHAPTER 306: HURT

Catalina studied him in silence for a moment, her gaze searching his face.

"Is it really just about finding yourself?" she asked quietly. "Or are you chasing after some girl, Catalina mentioned you were trying to find someone."

Girl... Yeah sure. Leon did not answer her question, he simply turned his face away.

Sofia arched an eyebrow.

Leon groaned and pressed both hands over his face. "Can you not bring that up right now?"

"Oh, I’m definitely going to bring it up," she said, her tone turning teasing. "Who is it? Who is that woman? Is she pretty?"

Leon blinked, thought for a moment and answered, "Yes. Very pretty." He remembered Riven’s small face, those brilliant green eyes and the way he batted his thick eyelashes.

She reached up and gently tugged on his hand. Her expression had softened again. "I’m teasing you because I love you, dummy. But I’m serious, Leon—if you go after her, be sure. Don’t use her as an excuse to run from who you were."

Leon swallowed hard. "I’m not. That person makes me feel like I could be someone better. But I want to figure out how to stand on my own, too."

Sofia’s eyes shone just a little. "That’s all I ever wanted for you."

He took her hand, squeezing it. "You really don’t hate me?"

She smiled again, a little sad but very warm. "No. I never did. I just... Missed you."

They stood there quietly for a few seconds, just holding hands. Then Sofia sighed, her tone turning brisk.

"Well, when you find yourself, send a letter. And don’t get married without us!"

Leon sputtered. "Sofia!"

She laughed and patted his cheek. "Oh, hush. Go be happy, brat."

---

Riven stood in the doorway of the study, the long shadow he cast stretching across the polished floor. He had taken time to calm himself, to breathe, to remind himself that he was here, he was safe.

And yet, as he looked across the room and saw Soren sitting behind the heavy desk, the memory of that cold-eyed hallucination still brushed against his mind like a phantom.

But it wasn’t the same. He knew that. And he wasn’t going to let whatever nightmare he’d been shown take this away from him.

Soren hadn’t noticed him yet. His dark head was bowed, one hand clenched and on the desk, the other gripping the armrest so hard his knuckles were white. His breathing was too shallow, and his expression looked haunted.

Riven took a small step forward, and the floor creaked.

Soren’s gaze shot up to meet his.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was thick. Riven could almost feel the heat of all the violent thoughts swirling behind those black eyes.

"Soren..." he tried again, voice soft but steadier than he felt.

Soren didn’t answer. His eyes flickered over Riven’s face, searching for something—fear, maybe, or rejection. Whatever he saw, it made his jaw tighten.

"I don’t..." Soren began, but the words trailed off. His throat moved as he swallowed. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days. "I’m not in the right state to talk to you right now."

Riven stepped closer anyway. His heartbeat was loud in his ears, but this time he ignored it. "Then don’t say anything. Just let me stay."

Soren closed his eyes, as though in pain. "You don’t understand."

"Then explain it to me."

But Soren shook his head. He looked down at his hands, and his voice dropped to a raw whisper.

"I’m thinking of killing Nicholas," he said, very quietly. "I’m thinking of making him suffer. I’m thinking of dragging him here and tearing out his throat in front of you so you’ll never doubt you’re protected. I’m thinking..."

His hand tightened on the armrest "...I’m thinking that if anyone so much as looks at you again, I’ll tear them apart. Even if it means you hate me."

Riven’s breath hitched.

Soren finally lifted his gaze again, and there was something almost unhinged in his eyes. "I’m thinking that if I have to lock you in a cage to keep you safe, I’ll do it."

The words should have terrified him. Maybe a part of him was scared—but it wasn’t the same fear that had gripped him during that hallucination. This was different.

This was Soren, not the vision of Soren.

Riven walked the last few steps to the desk. He set his hand over Soren’s where it gripped the chair, feeling the heat of him, the tension.

"I’m not afraid of you," he said quietly. "I was... I was afraid of what I saw. But that wasn’t you."

"You don’t know that," Soren said, voice low and rough. "You don’t know what I’d do if you were taken from me again."

"I know exactly what you’d do," Riven said, and for the first time, there was a tiny, wry smile on his lips. "You’d do something impulsive and violent and probably very effective."

Soren huffed a breath that might have been a laugh if it hadn’t sounded so pained.

Riven slipped around the side of the desk. Soren watched him warily, like he was expecting to be shoved away. But when Riven reached for him, he didn’t resist.

Instead, Soren let Riven pull his hand free of the armrest, let him guide it to rest over Riven’s heart.

"Can you feel that?" Riven asked softly. "I’m here. I’m alive. And I’m not leaving you."

Soren looked at him for a long time, saying nothing.

When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. "You should hate me for thinking those things."

"I don’t," Riven whispered. "Because you’ve never hurt me. And I know that you never can."

Soren closed his eyes. His hand trembled where it rested. "I could hurt you, it’s just- my nature..." Soren explained. He was not normal. He did not have a normal childhood, he did not grow up with love.

He could not love the way Riven wanted to be loved. He had been suppressing his true nature for too long, scared that it would scare him away. And yet... He did. He remembered how Riven was pushing him away earlier. It still hurt.