Chapter Fourteen: The Devil's Kin and desires.

CHAPTER 14: The Devil's Kin and Desires

The path beyond the Bone Gate turned from cracked obsidian into a low, fog-choked gorge where silence pressed against their skin like oil. Arielle stayed close behind Riven, her fingers curled around her dagger hilt though she knew by now—no weapon she carried would save her here. Not without him.

He hadn't spoken a word since they'd broken camp. Just walked ahead, graceful as a phantom, unreadable as the sky above them. But she could feel it.

Something was coming.

And it had his scent.

---

The sky split without warning.

Lightning—but not light.

A jagged tear opened midair, and out stepped a creature that looked almost human. Almost.

His hair was ink-black like Riven's, but longer, braided with silver and bone. His eyes gleamed violet—a crueler shade—and his smile held none of Riven's restraint.

He landed with a soft thud, the earth humming beneath his boots as if it recognized him.

"Brother," he drawled. "You never write. You never call,Have you been hiding something delicious,"

Arielle instinctively stepped closer to Riven.

He didn't react to the nickname. Or to the being's arrival. He only said, "Velar."

Velar grinned wider. "You wound me. Not even a how have you been? After all this time?"

"Get to the point."

Velar turned toward Arielle, eyes gleaming.

"And this must be the lovely scent I've been picking up. Mortal. Pure."

The other man's grin widened, flashing too-sharp teeth.

"I thought I smelled mortal perfume. And there she is…" His eyes raked over Arielle without shame. "So delicate. So divine. Tell me, priestess, do you burn the same way your kind screams?"

Riven was in front of her before she could blink. No flash, no burst. Just sudden, silent presence.

"Touch her and I'll flay your soul."

Velar raised both hands in mock surrender. "Oh come now, I was only going to sniff. Maybe lick."

Arielle shivered, stepping back.

Riven's voice dropped an octave—ice sliding down the edge of a blade. "Try it."

Velar rolled his eyes. "Fine. Fine. Ruin the fun. I only came to tell you: Father's court has moved. He's expecting you at the Deep Root. Bring your… bond."

"She stays out of it."

Velar chuckled. "Then maybe next time don't bind yourself to a fire-born priestess. What were you thinking?"

"Wasn't thinking," Riven replied flatly.

Arielle flinched.

Velar's grin widened. "Still cold as ever. But I can see the cracks, brother. I can smell them."

Velar chuckled, delighted.

"So possessive. What would Father say? First a kiss, now a pet."

"She's not yours to discuss."

"Ah. But she is yours, then?"

Riven's silence was louder than any answer.

He turned to Arielle one last time.

"If you ever want to see what a real demon feels like… I'm not picky. Just scream."He chuckled."If you tire of my brother, come find me. I'm told I'm a better sin."

He vanished with a violet ripple, scenting the air with brimstone, roses and a vortex of violet smoke.

---

The path beyond the Bone Gate stretched into silence—so thick and smothering it felt like the realm itself was holding its breath.

Arielle trailed behind Riven, her boots crunching over withered black moss. The atmosphere had changed since the encounter at the shrine. Denser. Hungrier. Like they were walking not through land, but through something alive.

Riven walked ahead with his usual gait—unhurried, unreadable. His cloak moved like shadow incarnate, his silver hair an elegant streak through the gloom. She couldn't see his face, but she didn't need to. His silence said everything.

The words he'd used when his brother showed up still rang in her ears.

"I wasn't thinking."

It stung more than she'd admit

They walked in silence after that. Until Arielle finally snapped.

"You weren't thinking? That's what I am? A mistake?"

Riven didn't look at her. "I said what I needed to."

"To protect me?"

"To protect everything."

Her jaw clenched, but she said nothing.

She stepped closer, defiant. "You act like I'm beneath you, like I don't matter—"

"You don't understand what matters down here."He says his voice cold.

That silenced her more effectively than any scream.

He turned. Walked again.

And she stayed behind.

The air was tighter now. More suffocating. She needed space. Time to breathe. To think.

---

She wandered off the path, pushing through gnarled trees with bark like burned skin. The air shifted. Grew thick with perfume and something older. Sweeter. Sinister.

She felt it before she saw her.

The presence.

Like velvet sliding across bare skin. Like fangs grazing a throat.

Arielle stepped into a clearing—and froze.

There, lounging against a ruin draped in bleeding ivy, was a woman of impossible beauty.

Her skin glowed like burnished bronze, flawless and glistening with something not quite sweat and not quite oil. Her eyes were black—but shimmered with crimson veils, always shifting, never settling. She was barefoot, toes curling into the grass, a gown of sheer obsidian slipping off one shoulder like melted silk.

She was beautiful in the way poison flowers are—lush, dangerous, meant to kill. Her skin shimmered bronze, and her gown looked like it was woven from shadows and starlight.

A succubus.

Her lips—plump, blood-red—curled into a slow, decadent smile.

"Well, well," she purred. "The priestess wanders alone."

Arielle raised a shaky hand, holy fire already crackling at her fingertips.

"Back away."

The woman tilted her head, a feline curiosity gleaming. "You reek of him, you know. That infernal scent—ice, steel, and that tiny crack of guilt he tries so hard to smother."

"Who are you?" Arielle demanded.

"I've gone by many names," she whispered. "But once, Riven called me Amara."

Her stomach twisted.

Amara took a step forward, slow and deliberate. "He was younger then. Starving. Cold. Even demons need something warm sometimes. I gave it."

"Poison, you mean," Arielle said through her teeth.

Amara chuckled, low and sensual. "Funny. That's what he said later, too."

"I'm not interested in your twisted past."

"Oh, but you are. Because it's already written into your future." She flicked a hand toward Arielle's chest. "That bond. It will cost you everything. He was made to consume. To ruin. And you…" Her smile sharpened. "You're too soft. Too human."She paused for a moment before she continued" I'll give it you priestess, you are beautiful," she said with a voice like wine poured too slowly. "Prettier than I expected."

Arielle raised her hand, already glowing with fire. "Back off."

The succubus smiled. "Feisty. He always liked that."

Arielle frowned. "He?"

Then Riven appeared behind her suddenly, like a summoned curse.

His presence slammed into the clearing like a hammer of silence.

"Still clawing for relevance, I see."

Amara's smile soured. "Still pretending you're immune to need?"

"You never filled anything. You hollowed it deeper."

Her jaw twitched. "And yet you came."

"I came for her."

That shut her up.

Riven moved past Arielle, never once touching her, but placing himself between them.

"Leave."

The succubus turned to him, delighted. "You do remember me."

"I remember what you tried to do."

She laughed. "I only gave you what you craved. You came to me, Riven."

He didn't blink." I was seventeen,"

Arielle's breath hitched.

The succubus prowled forward. "You were lonely. Hollow. I filled that void."

"You poisoned it."

Arielle stepped between them without thinking.

The succubus's eyes narrowed. "Careful, girl. You don't know what you're guarding."

Arielle's hands burst into flame. "No. But I know what I'm burning."

The succubus hissed, retreating.

"You'll regret choosing her," she said to Riven.

"I didn't choose her."

"But you will."

Amara hissed again faintly. "But you'll come crawling back when the bond breaks her."

"I won't."

"You will."

And then she was gone.

Then she vanished, scattering rose petals and smoke.

---

Later, back at the fire, Arielle finally broke the silence.

Back at the ruins, Arielle sat by the fire, arms around her knees.

Riven stood across from her, wordless. Watchful.

Finally, she whispered, "Was she telling the truth?"

He didn't ask which part.

He just said, "No."

She wanted to believe him.

But the worst part was…

She already did.

"Is there anyone down here who isn't obsessed with you?"

Riven glanced at her, deadpan. "Yes. You."

She flushed. "I'm not obsessed."

"You had a dream about me."

"That was a nightmare."

He raised a brow. "You moaned my name."

Her cheeks turned scarlet. "I hate you."

He smirked, just barely.

"I know."

She stood, flustered, and stumbled over a tree root. Landed on her knees.

"Gods damn it—"

Riven didn't laugh.

But his eyes burned with a quiet amusement.

She glared at him from the dirt. "You could help, you know."

"You got down fine on your own."

She groaned, stood up, and brushed herself off.

For a moment, their eyes met.

And the air stilled.

Not hot.

Not cold.

Just full.

Heavy.

Like something in both of them had tilted, even just slightly.

He looked away first.

And it hurt more than it should have.

---

That night, Arielle dreamed again.

Not of pain. Not of horror.

But of silence.

A boy sitting alone on a throne of bones.

Not yet cruel.

Just tired.

And cold.

So, so cold.

She reached toward him in the dream—and he flinched.

When she woke, her hand was still outstretched.

And her heart ached in places she didn't know existed.