Page 89 of A Match Made in Error

The warmth of the spring wraps around us as I lean into him, one hand finding his shoulder, the other curling against his chest where his heartbeat stutters beneath my palm as I hitch one leg over his lap to straddle him.

Riven exhales softly against my mouth, a sound that feels almost like relief. His arm slides around my waist, steadying me as I shift against him, water spilling in gentle waves between us.

The world beyond the cliffs disappears entirely. There is only the quiet glow of the spring. The brush of his lips against mine. And the slow, inevitable feeling that something we’ve been circling for years has finally found its way home.

Riven’s kiss deepens slowly, like he’s still half-convinced the moment might vanish if he moves too quickly. I push into him without thinking, the years of almosts and maybes finally dissolving in the warmth between us. His hand slides from my waist to the small of my back, drawing me in until there is nothing between us but the gentle lapping of the spring water.

I laugh softly against his mouth when my hand slips on his wet skin.

“Graceful,” Riven murmurs, breath warm against my lips.

“It’s your fault.”

“Blatant slander.” But his voice is unsteady in a way I’ve never heard before.

For a long moment, we simply look at each other, the steam drifting around us in pale ribbons. The moonlight catches in the water, turning everything silver and soft. I feel the weight of the moment settle into my chest.

The man I have allowed myself to love over the course of four Festivals is looking at me like I am something precious. Like he’s terrified I might disappear.

My fingers brush along his jaw, tracing the familiar line of it. He melts into the touch, eyes closing for the briefest moment.

“Riven,” I whisper.

He doesn’t let me finish what I was about to say. Instead, he lifts me easily, the motion gentle but decisive, and carries me the few steps to the edge of the spring where the smooth stone gives way to soft moss and warm rock still holding the heat of the day. Water trails down his arms as he sets me down, the night air cool against my skin in contrast to the lingering warmth of the water.

For a moment, he pauses there, our breaths mingling.

His forehead rests lightly against mine.

“This will change everything,” he says quietly.

My answer is simple. “Good.”

The rest unfolds slowly, the way everything between us always has. It’s patient and certain and built on years of knowing exactly how the other moves and laughs and breathes. His shadows curl lazily along the rocks nearby, as if even they understand the quiet sanctity of the moment and choose to look away.

The steam drifts higher, and when he gently rids us of our clothes. His eyes don't roam hungrily. They linger. Memorizing. Like he’s afraid this is another dream he’ll wake from if he blinks too long.

My hands find the planes of his shoulders first, tracing the warm skin still damp from the spring. Beneath my fingertips, muscle shifts as he exhales, and a smile tugs at his mouth when I discover the small scar near his ribs I’d never noticed before.

“Looking for flaws?” he murmurs, the familiar humor softer now.

“No,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over it anyway. “Just learning you.”

Something in his expression breaks open.

He answers in kind, his palms gliding slowly along my arms as though committing every inch of me to memory. His touch is impossibly careful, reverent enough that it makes my heart ache. He traces the curve of my waist, my back, my hips, never rushing, never taking more than I'm already offering him. Every place his hands settle feels like another promise—that he sees me, that he’s here, that this is real.

I lean forward until my forehead rests against his. The water rocks gently around us, warm against my skin, cool air kissing my shoulders while his body shields me from the night.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, almost to himself, sounding more awed than certain.

I laugh quietly. “You’re looking at me like you’ve never seen me before.”

“Oh, I’ve seen you.” His grin returns, small and crooked. “Just never like this.”

Heat blooms beneath my skin that has nothing to do with the spring.

He kisses me again, slower this time. Somewhere between laughter, whispered confessions, and the gentle exploration of hands that have waited far too long, the distance we once kept between us finally disappears. Riven draws me close, our hearts beating against one another, and his body presses to mine until there is no room left for uncertainty.