THE MAN WITH BLOOD ON HIS HAND

Aiyana walked home exactly the way Riven told her not to.

Alone.

The sun had already dipped behind the buildings, turning the sky a bruised purple. Streetlights flickered, buzzing like dying insects. Every few steps, she felt a cold shiver down her spine, like someone was walking right behind her…

and breathing down her neck.

But every time she turned, the street was empty.

She hated how her heart wasn’t scared of the shadows—it was scared of the idea that Riven wouldn’t show up again.

Why do I want him near me?

What’s wrong with me?

Her footsteps echoed against the pavement. She wrapped her hands around her arms, her breath shaky.

Then she saw it.

A person standing at the end of the street.

Still. Silent. Watching her.

Aiyana froze.

Her heartbeat crashed against her ribs, painful and loud.

It’s not him… Riven doesn’t stand like that.

This man’s posture was wrong—tilted slightly, shoulders uneven, head twitching like he was forcing it to stay upright.

Cold crawled up her spine.

She stepped back.

Then the man moved.

Aiyana didn’t think—she ran.

Her breath tore through her lungs, her legs burning as she sprinted towards the main road. But the footsteps behind her were faster—slapping the pavement in uneven, frantic strikes.

She could almost feel his fingers brushing her hair—

Until a hand grabbed her wrist.

Aiyana screamed—

But the hand pulled her behind a metal gate, shielding her body with a warm chest, a strong arm, and a voice made of smoke.

“Aiyana. It’s me.”

Her panic collapsed instantly.

Riven.

His scent hit her first—dark, cool, familiar. His grip on her wrist loosened as he turned her face towards his.

His eyes were burning.

“What the hell are you doing out here alone?” he hissed, his voice low and furious. “I told you to be home before dark.”

“I—I didn’t think—”

“No,” he snapped. “You didn’t.”

He was angry. Truly angry. But not at her—at himself. At the world. At whoever was chasing her.

Aiyana’s breath shook. “Who was that man?”

Riven didn’t answer.

He pulled her closer instead, pressing her head gently against his chest as he peered out the gate.

She felt his heartbeat.

It wasn’t calm.

It wasn’t steady.

It was raging.

After a moment, he whispered, “He’s gone. But he’ll try again.”

Her stomach dropped. “Try what?”

Riven looked down at her, and for the first time, she saw fear—real fear—inside his eyes.

“Killing you.”

Aiyana’s breath stuttered.

Her lips trembled. “Why? I haven’t done anything.”

Riven closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling like he was trying to stop himself from breaking.

“I know,” he whispered. “That’s what makes this so wrong.”

He stepped back just enough to see her face, his fingers cupping her jaw lightly.

“There’s so much I can’t tell you yet,” he said. “Not because I don’t want to… but because once I do, there’s no turning back.”

Aiyana swallowed.

And it shocked her how steady her voice sounded when she whispered—

“Then tell me.”

Riven stared at her.

Long. Silent. Intense.

Like he was memorizing the shape of her lips. The softness of her voice. The fear she tried so hard to hide.

“You’re not scared of me,” he said softly.

It wasn’t a question.

“Should I be?” she whispered.

Riven’s jaw clenched. He looked away for a moment.

“Every instinct in you should be screaming to run from me.”

“It’s not,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “And I hate that I don’t know why.”

His eyes snapped back to hers.

And then—unexpectedly—he laughed. A soft, painful, broken laugh that sounded like he hated himself for doing it.

“God, Aiyana…” He brushed his thumb along her cheek, barely touching. “You make this so much harder than it already is.”

Aiyana blinked. “Harder for what?”

“For staying away.”

His voice was almost a whisper.

“For remembering what I’m supposed to do.”

Her breath caught.

“Riven… what are you supposed to do?”

His hand dropped from her face. Every muscle in his body went tense. His expression darkened like a storm passing over his eyes.

“I’m supposed to kill you.”

Silence fell between them—thick, suffocating, unreal.

Aiyana stumbled back, her chest tightening so violently she couldn’t breathe.

“You’re—” Her words broke. “You’re lying.”

“I wish I was.”

Her pulse roared in her ears. “Then why didn’t you?”

Riven stepped toward her. Only one step. But it was enough to make every nerve in her body ignite.

“Because,” he whispered, “the moment I saw you… the moment you looked at me like I was something other than a monster… something broke.”

Aiyana’s eyes burned. “Riven—”

“I was sent for one reason,” he continued, his voice shaking for the first time. “But then I heard your voice. I saw your fear. I saw your strength. And everything in me—everything that was trained to end you—hesitated.”

Aiyana felt tears sting her eyes.

“Why me?” she whispered. “Why would anyone want me dead?”

Riven shook his head slowly. “Because your death is not personal… it’s necessary. To them. To the people who own me.”

“Own you?” Aiyana repeated. “You mean like—”

“Like a weapon,” Riven cut in. “Like a tool. Like something they created to do their dirty work.”

Aiyana stepped closer before she realized she had moved. “Then don’t go back to them.”

Riven’s throat tightened. His voice dropped to a whisper.

“You don’t understand. I can’t leave what I am.”

“Then be something else,” she said softly, desperately. “With me.”

His breath caught.

“Aiyana…”

He spoke her name like a prayer. Like a wound. Like she was the first and last good thing he’d ever touched.

He lifted a hand, brushing his fingers along her jaw again, slower this time. His voice trembled.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Maybe not,” she whispered. “But I know what I feel.”

His eyes widened slightly.

“What do you feel?” he asked, voice barely audible.

Aiyana swallowed hard. “I feel safer with you than without you.”

A knife-sharp pain flashed in Riven’s eyes—like her words pierced straight into his ribs.

“Aiyana…”

He stepped back, shaking his head.

“I don’t deserve that. And you can’t afford to give it.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he whispered, “every moment I spend near you… I’m fighting the part of me that wants to kill you.”

Her breath hitched.

“But there’s another part,” he continued, his voice breaking open.

“A part that wants to protect you.

A part that wants you.

A part that would burn the whole world if it meant keeping you alive.”

Aiyana stared at him—at the war inside him, written across his shoulders, his jaw, his trembling hands.

“Which part is winning?” she whispered.

Riven looked at her like she was the one holding the knife.

“The part that loves you,” he admitted, voice cracking.

“And that’s the most dangerous thing of all.”

Before she could speak, he stepped into the street—his figure blending into the shadows.

“Aiyana,” he said without turning back,

“If I stay… you die.”

“But if I leave…” His voice broke.

“I lose the only thing that ever made me human.”

Then he was gone.

Consumed by the darkness he came from.

Leaving Aiyana standing alone under the flickering streetlight—

shaking, breathless,

and already hopelessly in love with her killer.

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