Chapter 138 In Sleep - Riven's POV

Chapter 138 In Sleep - Riven's POV
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was warmth. For one disorienting second, I thought I was dreaming again. Rain tapped steadily against the windows while Callista had somehow managed to snuggle against my chest. My arm was around her.

And somehow, despite everything living inside me, she trusted me enough to close her eyes. The realization settled heavily in my chest.

Carefully, I looked down at her. Her hair was spread across the pillow and part of my shoulder, her breathing slow and even in sleep. She looked peaceful.

My throat tightened painfully.

I couldn’t remember the last time I woke up without panic clawing through me. Usually there was blood in my dreams or screaming as that thing inside my head twisted memories into something monstrous until I couldn’t tell what was real anymore.

But now there was only rain and her.

My fingers flexed slightly against her back before I stopped myself. Even after everything, part of me was still terrified to touch her too much, like the demon would somehow notice my happiness and destroy it out of spite.

Pathetic.

The word slid through my mind so suddenly that my entire body stiffened. My breathing stopped. For a horrible second, I listened for him, but there was nothing except silence.

Callista shifted faintly against me with a sleepy breath, and the tension in my body eased by inches. I lowered my head slightly, pressing it carefully against hers as relief washed through me so hard it almost hurt.

Maybe she was right. Maybe there was still hope for me after all.

The thought barely had time to settle before guilt followed behind it. Hope was dangerous. I had learned that lesson over and over again this past year.

Slowly, I stared up at the ceiling while the storm continued outside. The room smelled of rain, lavender from Callista’s shampoo, and something warm beneath it that was uniquely hers. It was familiar enough that it made something ache deep in my chest.

Home. This was home. She was home. I swallowed hard against the feeling.

Callista stirred again, her fingers curling lightly against my shirt as she shifted closer in her sleep. The movement was instinctive, trusting, and it nearly undid me.

How was she still capable of this?

After everything I had put her through, she still looked at me as if I were someone worth loving. The demon had spent months convincing me otherwise.

There had been nights where it whispered for hours without stopping, wearing my own voice like a mask. He told me I was poison and that eventually I would lose control and tear apart everything that I loved. Sometimes it sounded so convincing that I had no other option but to believe it.

Sometimes I still did. My jaw tightened.

I glanced toward the window, watching rain slide down the glass in uneven trails while darkness settled deeper across the mountains outside. The pack house was quiet now. Most people were probably asleep.

For the first time in a year, I didn’t feel alone in the silence.

That realization scared me almost as much as it comforted me. Carefully, I shifted enough to glance toward the bedside clock. It was just a little past midnight, which meant we had slept through dinner.

A strange sort of guilt touched me at that, too, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe because sleeping felt indulgent and unsafe now. The past year had trained me to rest lightly and move constantly. Staying in one place too long usually meant trouble followed shortly after.

But nothing had happened. There were no screams, no blood, and no loss on control. We had just been sleeping. 

Callista made a soft sound against my chest, still half asleep, and tightened her grip on my shirt slightly. My eyes dropped to her immediately.

“You’re still here,” she mumbled weakly, her voice thick with sleep.

The words hit me harder than they should have. “Yeah,” I whispered. “I am.”

A faint smile touched her mouth before she relaxed again, as if she hadn’t even considered another possibility. My chest ached so sharply that I had to look away.

Fates. I didn’t deserve this girl.

Somewhere downstairs, I thought I heard movement. It was probably one of her parents still awake. Wolves rarely slept deeply during storms.

I remained still beside her, listening carefully to the house around us while Callista continued sleeping peacefully against me.

And despite every instinct screaming at me not to, I finally let myself believe something I hadn’t dared to in a very long time.

I wanted this life. I didn’t want to just survive or run from it. Living was all I desired.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Callista mumbled unexpectedly. 

I looked down at her again, a soft smile spreading across my face. “You should be sleeping.”

“You should be too,” she groaned. “What time ‌is it?”

“Midnight,” I replied softly. “We slept through dinner.”

“Oh,” she mumbled sleepily. “My mother is going to be offended.”

Despite myself, I let out a quiet laugh. “She’ll survive. Knowing them, they probably looked in the door while we were sleeping.”

Callista peeked one eye open at me before burying her face back against my chest with a groan. “No, she won’t. She probably cooked for an army.”

“That sounds threatening.”

“It is threatening,” she muttered. “You don’t understand how serious feeding people is to her.”

The soft amusement in her voice warmed something in me that had felt cold for a very long time.

I looked down at her again, really looked at her, and the reality of this still didn’t feel entirely real. Yesterday I had been preparing myself to leave again if things got worse. I had already started planning it in my head. 

It sounded ridiculous now, because I had thought of routes, distances, and how far I’d need to go this time just to keep everyone safe. But now I was in her bed with her curled against me, as if this were permanent.

Callista shifted slightly before tilting her head enough to look up at me through heavy eyes. “You’re thinking too hard again.”

I huffed softly. “You say that like you don’t do the exact same thing.”

“I do,” she admitted. “But right now I’m trying to enjoy you being here before reality ruins it.”

Something about that tightened painfully in my chest. None of our problems had disappeared just because we managed to sleep for a few hours, pretending life was normal again.

But Callista reached up sleepily and touched my face anyway, as if none of that changed what she felt.

“You look sad,” she whispered.

I leaned into her hand before I could stop myself.

“Just tired,” I lied quietly.