chapter 12 - " The night "
1142 Words
Ashlyn’s POV
I had never seen him like this.
Wounded. Silent. Barely holding himself together.
The man who once commanded storms now looked like one that had been through it—soaked, bruised, breathless.
I guided him inside. No words. Just hands.
Blood painted his side. His shirt clung to his skin, soaked in more than just rain. He winced, but didn’t stop me when I pressed a towel to the wound, biting my lip to hold in the gasp.
"Sit down," I ordered softly.
He obeyed.
My fingers trembled as I cleaned the gash, trying to focus only on the task—not on the way he was watching me, like I was the only warmth he had left in this cold world.
"You need to rest, Ryder," I said once I wrapped the last bandage around his ribs.
"You'll tear the stitches if you move again."
He looked at me, eyes darker than the night outside.
“Ashlyn…”
“No,” I interrupted, voice firmer now. “You don’t get to argue this time.”
And maybe, just maybe, he was too tired to fight back.
Because exhaustion had crept over him like a second skin—heavy, suffocating. His eyelids drooped. His muscles softened under my touch.
"Lie down," I whispered, pulling the covers over him.
He reached for my wrist—gently.
Like a man afraid that even his touch would break me.
“You’ll be here, right?”
It wasn’t a question. It was a fear.
I nodded, brushing his damp hair from his forehead.
His lashes lowered. His breathing slowed.
And for a few minutes… peace.
Until—
A sound.
Soft at first. Then choked.
My heart stopped when I turned and saw his fists clench, his back arching slightly as if pushing against something invisible.
“Ryder…” I whispered.
He flinched.
Tears slipped from the corners of his closed eyes.
A low, sleepy mumble escaped his lips. It was like he was scared.
He was dreaming.
No—reliving.
His breaths became harsh, like he was drowning. Fighting. Begging.
I grabbed his hand, pressing it to my heart.
“Ryder,” I called again, stronger. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”
But he couldn’t hear me.
He was locked in it—his past. His pain. His ghosts.
I wrapped my arms around him, cradling his trembling body.
“Come back to me…” I whispered through the tears pooling in my own eyes.
“You’re not there anymore. You’re home. You’re with me.”
And slowly—like a wave receding after a storm—his breathing calmed.
His body stilled.
But my heart didn’t.
Because tonight, I saw something deeper than scars.
I saw his shadows.
And I promised myself—
Whatever haunted him,
Whatever burned him in his sleep,
Whatever left those cracks in his soul...
I would stay.
I would hold him.
Until every nightmare turned into peace again.
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
Ryder’s POV
My chest was heaving.
The nightmare still clung to my skin like smoke.
It had dragged me through blood, screams, and her lifeless body—over and over again.
But when I opened my eyes, there she was.
Real.
Soft.
Safe.
Ashlyn.
I tried to move away. I needed space—to bury it, lock it up before it showed on my face.
But her hand caught mine.
“You okay?” she whispered, and damn, that voice was gentler than any salvation I ever imagined.
“I’m fine,” I lied, swallowing the lump rising in my throat.
But she didn’t buy it.
Her gaze broke through me like sunlight tearing clouds apart.
And the next second, she reached out and pulled me into her arms.
And I broke.
Not outwardly. Not visibly.
But something inside me—shattered and melted.
Her arms wrapped tightly around me, pressing my face into the crook of her neck.
Her fingers moved through my hair, her lips pressing feather-soft kisses along my temple.
“I’m here,” she murmured. “It’s over. You’re not alone anymore.”
I couldn’t speak. I didn’t trust my voice.
So I kissed her.
At first, it was desperate—like I needed her just to breathe.
My lips crashed against hers, not rough, but hungry. She gasped into my mouth, but didn’t pull back—instead, she clutched my shirt tighter and kissed me like she needed me too.
I cupped her jaw, deepening the kiss, tasting every shaky breath she gave me.
And then I slowed down.
Letting my lips move softer, deeper, more deliberately against hers.
Her fingers slid into my hair, her body pressing closer, her sighs becoming my undoing.
I moved my hands to the hem of her oversized T-shirt and hesitated—giving her the chance to say no.
But she looked into my eyes and nodded once.
I slid the fabric over her head, revealing her bare skin beneath.
Beautiful. Glowing in the moonlight. Flawless and trembling.
Her breath hitched when I touched her.
Slow strokes down her arms, across her waist, my fingers memorizing every inch of her.
She reached for the buttons of my shirt, her hands shaky but determined. I helped her, shrugging it off, baring my chest to her touch.
When her fingertips ran across my scars, she didn’t flinch.
She kissed each one like it mattered. Like it made me real.
“You’re safe with me too,” she whispered.
I couldn't take it anymore.
I laid her back gently on the bed, crawling over her with a kind of reverence I didn’t know I was capable of.
Her legs wrapped around my waist instinctively.
My lips roamed—down her neck, across her collarbone, to the swell of her breasts.
Every moan she let out lit something primal inside me.
When I finally entered her, it was slow.
Deliberate.
Her body arched beneath me, welcoming every inch with a gasp.
And God, the way she whispered my name—I’d give up the entire empire I’d built for it.
We moved together like we were meant to.
Like we had been made to fit, to collide, to burn.
Sweat dripped down my back, her thighs gripped my hips, her fingers raked down my spine as we lost rhythm and found it again.
I kissed her again—hard, deep, breathing into her mouth.
Telling her every unsaid thing without a single word.
The world outside the room didn’t exist.
There was no mafia.
No war.
No blood.
Only us.
Only her.
And when we finally fell apart together, trembling and breathless, I held her tighter than I ever had anyone in my life.
Because I knew.
No nightmare could be worse than losing her.
And now that I had her—I wouldn’t let go.
Not ever.
- Writer
