Ronan knew exactly why Riven wanted him to mark the other side—because Soren's mark still lingered there, faint but undeniable. It made something primal stir in Ronan's chest, the possessive urge to claim his mate completely, to erase any trace of another. Deep breaths, Ronan.
He didn't want to push Riven away again. He swallowed down his jealousy, forcing it to the back of his mind, and gave Riven a subtle nod. "Alright," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.
Ronan shifted, his hands moving to grip Riven's waist as he guided him to lay back on the bed, his body pressing down just enough to make Riven feel trapped without being overbearing.
Ronan lowered his head, his nose brushing against Riven's throat, inhaling deeply as he nuzzled the unmarked side of his neck. Riven shivered at the sensation, the rough scrape of stubble against his sensitive skin sending jolts of heat straight to his core.
