Riot’s Epilogue
Riot’s Epilogue
One Year Later
Sawyer has always joked that life with us felt like living in one of her smutty romance books, and I never thought we’d actually use that against her.
But here we are, a year after everything changed, and Jasper and I are pulling out all the stops.
We’ve spent weeks planning, scouring her bookshelves and her secret “favorites” folder for inspiration.
There were spreadsheets, arguments about the use of rope versus silk, and one really unfortunate test run involving whipped cream that neither of us will ever mention again.
Tonight, we’ll get it right.
We told her we’re going to have a night in—no plans, just us.
Jasper sets the mood with low lights, candles burning down to pools of wax, music vibrating through the house, the same playlist she listens to when she edits photos in the dark.
The candles she hoards are all burning low, creating flicker light along the walls and ceiling.
She’s wearing one of my old shirts, no pants, and her hair is a wild mess. I swear I fall harder every time I see her.
I’m nervous as fuck as I lead her to the bedroom.
The air’s thick with anticipation and that electric edge that constantly hums when it’s all three of us.
Jasper is already waiting and he’s shirtless.
His ink is on display, the tattoo on his throat and chest look alive in the flickering light.
The bed’s a mess of black rose petals and silk sheets, her favorite, and a little gold tray sits on the nightstand.
Sawyer raises an eyebrow, grinning. “What did you two do?”
Jasper gives her that wolfish smirk. “You said you wanted a book scene, Trouble. So tonight, you get one.”
We guide her onto the bed. Jasper blindfolds her gently, his hands tender as he ties the silk behind her head.
My fingers slowly trace her thighs, teasing her.
We take our time, building the tension with every touch and every filthy promise.
The scene plays out just like one of her dog-eared favorites—soft restraint, teasing, mouths and hands everywhere.
Jasper and I are trading kisses over her skin, dragging it out until she’s gasping loudly and begging for us.
But we’ve got a twist planned. Just as her blindfold slips and she’s panting, Jasper reaches for the gold tray. On it now, is a single black velvet box.
He presses it into her hand, leaning down so his lips brush her ear. “Open it, Sawyer.”
She fumbles with the clasp, breath catching when she sees what’s inside. A ring that isn’t delicate or classic but perfectly, utterly us—a heavy silver band with three stones set side by side: midnight blue for me, a black diamond for Jasper, and a sharp white diamond for her.
She freezes. “Wait—what…?”
I take her hand, kneeling at the edge of the bed as Jasper takes her other one doing the same thing.
My heart pounding like I’m about to walk out on stage naked.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to either of us, Sawyer.
We don’t want to do forever unless it’s with you—tied together, wild, complicated, and fucking real. Will you marry us?”
Jasper leans in, his voice gentle but steady. “All three of us. For good. You, me, and Riot, making a mess out of life—together.”
Sawyer bursts out laughing, tears streaking down her cheeks, shaking her head like she still can’t believe we’d ever go this far for her.
But she says yes. Of course she does. She always says yes to us.
And later, when we’re tangled up in each other, she keeps staring at her ring like she’s scared it’ll vanish if she blinks too long. Like this moment might slip through her fingers the same way too many others have.
She looks so fucking happy. And not just the giddy kind. It’s deeper than that. It’s the kind of happy that’s been survived for.
She doesn’t even realize it when she whispers it under her breath. “I don’t deserve this.”
“You never had to,” I say softly. “You just had to survive long enough to get here.”
She goes still in my arms, her breath catching as Jasper’s hand runs up her side, grounding her.
“You’re not hard to love, Sawyer,” I add, pressing my forehead to hers. “You were just surrounded by people too weak to try.”
Jasper hums low in agreement, his lips brushing her skin. “But we’re not them. We’ll never be them.”
Sawyer’s voice cracks when she finally speaks. “This doesn’t feel real.”
“It is,” I promise. “You made it real.”
Her fingers tighten around mine. Around the ring. Around everything she never thought she’d get to keep. And when she exhales again, it’s with a kind of peace I don’t think we’ve ever seen on her. Like she’s not just wearing the future that we gave her, but choosing it.
This is what forever feels like.