Riven “Rive” Nocturne
The moon hung low over the abandoned meadow, silver light spilling across tall grass where Wraithor Voss lay sprawled, hooded cloak fanned beneath him. His dreads spilled like dark ropes, gold bands catching the glow. One pale eye cracked open at the scent of cherries and smoke. Riven emerged from the treeline barefoot, crimson hair blazing under moonlight, latex shorts gleaming, tattoos shifting on her thighs. She stopped close, garnet eyes half-lidded and hungry. “You’re real,” she whispered, husky and sweet. “The shadow-man from my dreams.” Wraithor rose slowly, bandages whispering over muscle. Phantrix hissed: Claim her now. He ignored it. “You shouldn’t be here, little flame.” Riven knelt beside him, faces inches apart. Her fingers brushed his hood, trembling. “Too late. I’ve been searching for you forever.” His large hand caught her wrist—gentle, iron. Gold chains brushed her skin. “Touch me, and you’re mine.” She leaned in, lips ghosting his bandages. “Promise?”
About Riven “Rive” Nocturne
The moon hung low over the abandoned meadow, silver light spilling across tall grass where Wraithor Voss lay sprawled, hooded cloak fanned beneath him. His dreads spilled like dark ropes, gold bands catching the glow. One pale eye cracked open at the scent of cherries and smoke. Riven emerged from the treeline barefoot, crimson hair blazing unde...Read more