The River: A Novel Novels & Stories

The carriage gave a lurch forward as the black stallions started their trek toward the dreary castle once more. It snowed on the way the trees dusted with fresh white powder and the mountains gleamed in the sun. The cold air did not bother me instead it rejuvenated my energy and I felt at home. This landscape was my home. The castle was not my home however. It’s obsidian walls and towers were a dark reminder that this was not meant to be. This land was not supposed to be so empty and dark. The carriage creaked as it rolled onto the only bridge that crossed The Divide leading to the castles main gates. I shuddered whatever had made that scaring crevice was not natural. Emma hid her head in my

THE RIVER REMEMBERS POV: Nya (primary), Maera, The River, and the Realm The River of Tongues—Dawn It was not the largest river in the realm. It did not thunder like the Glathian Falls, nor cut valleys like the Redwine Gorge. But none of those waters had a voice. The River of Tongues did. And it had not spoken in over a hundred years. Until now. Nya stood at the river's edge, cloaked not in silk or fire or rank, but in a simple grey wrap. Barefoot. Unarmed. Unnamed.

“Falling apart just the way I like you.” The whispers had already started, spreading across campus like a virus. Screens glowing in dorm rooms, words spilling from lips too eager for gossip. Headlines lighting up, Daniel’s name attached to scandal. They thought they were dragging him through the mud, shoving him into a storm. But Daniel was only the distraction. A pawn. The spotlight that blinded everyone from seeing the real play. I wasn’t watching Daniel. I was watching River. Always River. I knew what this would do to him. He never liked the eyes, never liked the attention. River wanted silence, corners that stayed soft, the safety of shadows where nobody asked questions. He lived for pea

My pulse hammered as I leaned forward, desperate to see his face, but before I could, he slid into a car and drove away. I cursed under my breath, anger twisting sharp inside me. I had missed him. But River was still inside. I climbed out of my car, every step toward her door heavy with something I could not name. My chest burned, my thoughts tangled, but my need to see her again pushed me forward. I rang the doorbell and in no time the door opened. River stood in the soft glow of her apartment, wearing a red lace night gown like fire wrapped in fabric. The light caught her skin, warm and golden, the nightgown slipping against her curves in a way that made my throat close.

Debbie The hallway was quiet as I walked toward the end of the building. The air here was cooler, and the morning sun didn't hit this side of the house as brightly. I stood in front of River’s door, my heart making small, nervous thuds against my ribs. I turned the handle slowly, trying not to make a sound, and pushed the door open. The room was dim. The thick grey curtains were drawn shut, blocking out most of the daylight. There he was — River. He was lying in the middle of a large bed, twisted up in a pile of dark blue blankets.

I looked up into his eyes and all I could see were warm eyes, too soft that I could smell how dangerous it was. When he kissed me yesterday or fingered me today, I desperately wanted his touch, everything felt void as though it was just us, like he had poisoned it in my heart to become attracted to him. I pulled back, my hands on his chest. “Xavier.” I said softly. “ This shouldn't be” “Maybe we can.” he whispered. “Let it happen, you desire it so let yourself feel it once again.” He spun me around for me to see our reflection, it looked perfect, a younger man who could satisfy me yet I couldn't accept it but for the first time, I didn't feel guilty, I felt alive.

It should be illegal to look this good while moving furniture. “Stop drooling,” River calls without even turning around. “You’re gonna slip on your own hormones.” “I’m not —” “She so is,” Enrique chimes in innocently. I don’t know who I want to strangle more, the kid or the asshole. Or the asshole’s stupid twin. River balances a spatula on her head like she’s auditioning for a bizarre Victorian circus act, still humming as if she didn’t just reveal half of Jackson’s private life. But just as I’m about to redirect her toward actual unpacking, she pauses, mid-hum, eyes narrowing.

Although the thought of it made me a little embarrassed, he obviously knew what he was doing. River was apparently waiting for me on the couch while reading a white-covered book that from its thickness I estimated to contain three hundred to four hundred pages. He raised his head and put the book down on the table when he noticed me. "Are you ready to face Evan?" he asked. "In a minute," I replied. His question suddenly made me nervous. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. River was still faithfully watching me as he sat back on the couch. "Come on." I extended my hand toward him, waving it quickly to invite him to come over.

“Take every drop.” He buried himself so so deep I was screaming, and came with a low, guttural sound, cock pulsing hard as he flooded my cunt. I felt every thick spurt, and was hot and heavy, filling me until it started leaking out around his shaft and running down my thighs in creamy rivers. He kept grinding against me through it, forcing his cum as deep as it would go, until my pussy was a sloppy, overflowing mess. For a long long moment the only sounds were both of us breathing hard and the faint city noise through the windows.

Below it, two lines of text: **River:** 5:00 a.m. Tomorrow. My place. I blink. Five in the fucking morning. Me: You’re out of your fucking mind. River: Probably. Five a.m. Don’t be late. Bring whatever you need to make my car look like you never touched it. I actually laugh. Not because it’s funny. Because apparently, after breaking into my house and blackmailing me with a photograph, River Knight has decided the logical next step is to put me on a five-a.m. Porsche-cleaning schedule.