Page 95 of Hymns of the Broken

“And now you know what that did to me,” Riot adds, eyes locked on mine. “So go ahead, Reign—keep pretending she’s just yours. I already got off to the sound of her moaning your name.” He winks. “Next time, maybe I’ll be inside with you.”

My breathcatches, stomach tightening, every inch of me thrumming with anticipation and something dangerously close to need.

“She’s not yours, Riot.” Jasper’s voice is low, dangerous—a warning and a claim all at once. His hand lands heavy on my hip, yanking me back a step, just enough that my body presses against his, like he needs to feel me to believe I’m still his.

Riot just laughs, eyes glittering with challenge. “She’s not yours either, man. Yet here we are.”

He grins, flashing teeth, every bit the devil I’ve always suspected he was. His hand trails the doorframe, fingers drumming, restless.

I close my eyes, heart racing.

And for the first time in my life…I think I want to be the fire these two are fighting to burn in.

***

“Wait,” Ash says, while climbing into the van. “He’sactuallycoming with us?”

“I didn’t think we seriously invited him,” Jace adds, shoving a handful of Sour Patch Kids in his mouth, jaw working like it’s the only thing holding back a grin.

“I would’ve invited myself anyway,” Riot says smoothly from beside me, leaning back like he belongs there. His knees splay wide, body relaxed, but his eyes flicker sideways—watching me.

Jace flips him off.

“Can we vote him off the island?” Ash asks, lips twisted in fake disgust, but there’s an edge of laughter beneath it.

“Nope,” Riot pops the “p” as he stretches, his shirt rising just enough to flash some skin, a slash of ink across his lower belly, the top of his V. My eyes linger before I remember to look away.

Jasper says nothing—just drums his fingers on the steering wheel like it’s taking everything in him not to turn the van around and throw Riot out right here. His other hand, though? Resting firm and warm on my thigh.

“You’re staying atJasper’shouse?” Silas cuts in from the third row. “You sure about that? I don’t think they offer medical insurance for getting murdered in your sleep.”

“Don’t worry,” Riot smirks, eyes cutting to me. “I won’t be sleeping much.”

My breath caught—heat spiking everywhere, heart hammering. Riot’s stare is heavy, promising, and I can feel Jasper tense beside me, hand flexing against my thigh, grip tightening for just a second.

He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to.

Jace makes a fake gagging sound, Ash mutters, “I hope you’re both ready to die,” and Silas snorts, shaking his head.

The banter keeps going, but I am officially too busy trying to keep my insides from boiling over. Riot’s thigh presses hot against mine, Jasper’s hand is still possessive on my leg, the van thick with testosterone and threat and want.

The van turns a last corner, and I go completely still.

We’re not pulling up to a house. We’re arriving at afortress.

Black wrought-iron gates stand between us and a long drive that winds through trees too tall to be natural. The headlights sweep across stone pillars and twisting shadows. The mansion at the end looks like it belongs in a rockstar’s fever dream. Stone and shadow, balconies and sharp angles, ivy snaking up one side like the house is being reclaimed by something older than time. Windows flicker with warm light, too many to count, stretching upward into the night.

It’s beautiful… and terrifying.

For a second, I feel like I’m outside myself, watching this scene unfold: the misfit photographer, fresh on break from tour with the hottest band in the world, about to walk into a place that looks like secrets are its currency.

Jasper stops the van in front of the massive double doors and kills the engine. Nobody moves. The silence is thick enough to choke on. Even Riot looks a little taken aback.

“I feellike this is where a final boss fight happens,” I mutter.

“Technically, you already beat one,” Ash says with a smirk. “But hey, this one might spank you for it.”

My face flushes hotter than it had any right to.