He groans as he hugs me, and it’s a soft, involuntary sound almost as if he's finally found relief. I like to think that touching me quiets something inside him.

His hand settles on my hip. The gesture feels heavy, possessive, like I belong to him. There’s a protectiveness in the way his fingers curl and press against me.

We don’t talk for a while. The wind moves through the branches above us, carrying the faint smell of a burn pile and horses. I should feel comforted, but my entire body is on edge right now, like every nerve ending is on fire. I know that Riven doesn't touch anyone else. Not like this. But with me, it's different. Like I'm the only place he's ever let himself rest. Like he can't fully relax unless we're touching in some way.

Sometimes, when he's in one of his moods, he’ll pick me up like it's no big deal. He always holds me tight, like he's afraid I'll disappear. My arms wrap around his neck, my legs around his waist, and that's when things get interesting. His hands always slide up my thighs, over my ass, in the most slow and possessive manner. And I always let him, but as quickly as he lets it happen, he recovers, motioning for me to slide to the ground. He’s always quick to move his hands to a place where it’s appropriate for a brother- adjacent person to touch me.

It frustrates me to no end, but still, I never want it to stop. I crave his touch in a way I couldn’t explain even if I tried.

"Dimitri wants to talk to me tonight," he says eventually, and his jaw is set with what looks like anger.

I blink, the words sinking in slow. "Do you think it’s about the other night? When he found us on the porch swing?"

He doesn’t answer right away. I shift in his arms, trying to meet his eyes. "Riven?"

"I don’t want you to worry about it, but I don’t want to keep anything from you, either," he says, finally looking at me. "Whatever it is, I’ll handle it."

He cups my chin with his hand, his thumb brushing the edge of my jaw. "I’ll always protect you, Lakynn. Always look after you. Nothing is going to change that."

My eyes sting. I blink hard, but one tear slips free anyway.

Riven leans in and kisses the tear beneath my eye. My stomach flips, even though the gesture is sweet and soft. I feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek as he murmurs, "Please don’t cry."

"I have a bad feeling," I whisper. "I don’t know why, I just... I do."