Page 187 of Hymns of the Broken
“She thinks she’s fucked up, man,” he whispers, voice cracked.
“Because of him,” I growl. “You know how many people read that shit? How many women want it in their heads but not in real life? That doesn’t mean she deserved what he did to her.”
Riot is quiet for a minute, then leans his head back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. “Did you ever think you’d end up with someone like her? Someone who wants all the fucked up shit we crave, but still needs us to keep her safe from it?”
I run my fingers along her hip, so fucking gentle now. “All the time. But I never thought it’d be this hard to watch her struggle with it. All I want to do is make her believe it’s okay and that she can have it both ways. That she’s allowed to want more and still be safe.”
He snorts softly, amusement mixing with pain. “It’s gonna take a lot of patience, Reign.”
“She’s worth it,” I say simply, voice low and fierce. “Every fucking second.”
Riot’s eyes go dark, wild. “You think she’ll ever believe us? That it’s okay to want things? To not be ashamed?”
I look down at her—face soft now, almost peaceful, lips parted, a little frown still etched between her brows even in sleep.
“We have to make her believe it,” I say, fierce and broken. “She needs to know she’s not alone in the dark. Not after this. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to her if I have to.”
Riot shifts closer, so we’re pressed tight to her on both sides, and I see his hand shake as he brushes her cheek. “She gave us everything tonight. The ugliest, hardest truths. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be better for someone as much as I want to be for her.”
I nod, voice gone rough. “Same.”
We just breathe for a minute, letting the silence fill with all the things we can’t say, all the things we’re too fucked up even to know how to say.
Finally, Riot whispers, “If she wants to explore it… the darkness, the rough shit, the stuff she’s scared to want—would you?”
“Anything,” I rasp. “If it meansshegets to feel safe and seen. If it means she gets to want what she wants, on her terms.”
He nods, a fierce smile ghosting his mouth. “Good. Me too.”
We both look at her. At the bruise on her hip. At the bite mark on her neck that isn’t from pain, but from surviving.
“She’s ours,” Riot says, a promise in his voice. “No matter how many times we have to say it. No matter how many times we have to prove it.”
I kiss the top of her head, close my eyes, and vow—again, in the darkness—that I’ll never let her go.
Not for anything.
Not for anyone.
Not even in her doubt.
Because she’s the bravest, most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
And I’d die before I let her forget it.
Chapter 30
SAWYER
For the first time in what feels like forever, my dreams aren’t full of teeth and shadows. Just warmth. Steady arms around my waist. The slow rhythm of someone breathing against the back of my neck like I’m something worth holding on to.
The room is quiet. Morning light bleeds in under the blackout curtains, painting faint gold lines across the sheets. I’m tangled between them. Riot’s chest pressed to my back, his leg draped over mine, one hand sprawled protectively across my stomach. Jasper’s in front of me, so close our noses almost touch, his fingers laced with mine like a promise.
I almost don’t want to move. Afraid that if I do, I’ll ruin it.
But this isn’t a dream. This is real.
And it’s terrifying in a way I’m not used to—because somewhere deep down, I’m starting to believe I deserve this. The safety. The stillness. The kind of love that doesn’t ask me to shrink.
