Cassian couldn't sleep.
Not with the ghost of Silas between their sheets.
Riven lay curled beside him, marked and beautiful—his body a map of every place Cassian had claimed. But even in sleep, his brow was furrowed. His fingers twitched, like he was reaching for someone in a nightmare.
Cassian watched him.
Jealousy coiled like a serpent in his gut.
Not of Silas's power or money. But of his history—of every whispered order Riven once obeyed, of every night he surrendered to someone else's leash.
Cassian wasn't gentle when he woke him.
He rolled on top, pinning Riven to the bed with a grip that bruised.
Riven's eyes flew open, breath catching. "Cass…"
"Say my name like you said his."
"What?"
Cassian's voice was ragged. "When he owned you—when you were his—what did you call him?"
Riven tried to pull away.
Cassian growled and pushed his hips down, grinding against him. "Say it."
Riven flushed. "Master."
Cassian's eyes burned.
"Not anymore," he growled. "Now say mine."
Riven trembled. "Cassian…"
"Say it."
"Master," he gasped. "My master."
Cassian kissed him like a man starved.
The sheets twisted.
Bodies tangled.
Cassian took him, slow and hard—claiming every moan, every plea, every raw inch of Riven's soul. Not with chains. But with fire.
Riven was undone beneath him—writhing, sobbing, submitting.
But it wasn't the same.
It wasn't fear.
It was love with claws and teeth and sweat-soaked need.
By the time Cassian finally came inside him with a hiss of Riven's name, they were both shaking—flesh slick, breath jagged, hearts thudding in sync.
Cassian collapsed beside him, pulling Riven close.
"I'll never use you like he did," he whispered. "But I'll own you all the same."
Riven's voice was hoarse. "You already do."
---
The next morning, Riven woke to find a velvet box on the pillow beside him.
Inside was a collar—midnight leather, dark silver clasp, a tiny engraved tag.
Riven. Cassian's.
His breath caught.
No chains.
No control.
Just… belonging.
He put it on with shaking fingers.
Cassian stepped out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips, steam rolling off his skin. He stopped in his tracks when he saw it.
Their eyes locked.
No words needed.
He crossed the room and kissed Riven like he was a promise made flesh.
---
Across the city, Silas crushed the wineglass in his hand, blood dripping between his fingers.
"They think they've won," he snarled.
His assistant flinched. "What are your orders, sir?"
Silas smiled coldly.
"Ruin them. From the inside out."