My breath stutters. My whole body arches into it like a plant toward light.
"Eli, you're going to short out my brain."
"Good. Your brain has been very mean to you lately."
He drags his nose along the curve where my neck meets my shoulder, slow and thorough. Every pass leaves behind a deeper thread of him.
Heat pools low in my belly, but it's not about sex. Not really. It's everything else—the safety, the belonging, the wordlessminethat my body has been dying to hear.
I twist, needing to see him. He lets me turn in his arms, rearranging us so I'm half on top of him, knees bracketing his hips, hands fisted in his shirt.
His eyes are dark and soft and hungry all at once.
"Hi," he murmurs.
"Hi."
We stare at each other, the silence full of all the things we didn't get to say when I was kneeling on hardwood trying not to sob.
Then he cups my face in both hands and kisses my forehead.
It undoes me more than any mouth-to-mouth kiss could have.
Tears prick hot and fast. "Don't. If you're nice to me, I'll fall apart."
"Fall apart. I'll hold the pieces."
Something in me gives up the fight.
I don't sob like I did on punishment night. That was quiet, desperate, throttled. This is softer. A leak instead of a rupture. Tears slide down my cheeks as I tuck myself into his chest and let his scent rewire my nervous system.
He keeps talking in that low, soothing voice, nothing important, just steady words.
"You did so well. You survived something you never should've had to. I'm proud of you. I'm so fucking sorry. I've missed you. Your stupid jokes. Your stupid tea questions. All of it."
His hand rubs slow circles at the small of my back, grounding.
"You're allowed to need this. You're allowed to want more. You are not difficult. You're not broken. You're not second-hand."
The words strike deep.
I shudder.
His arms tighten. "Hey. Hey. Look at me."
I do, reluctantly.
"Whatever she said, and whatever anyone implied after she said it—you are not a used toy someone should be ashamed to keep. You're ours. That didn't stop being true because you were hurting."
"Ragon—"
"Is not the sole authority on your worth," Eli cuts in, sharp for once. "He is a strong alpha. He is not a god."
Thewords shake me.
We lie there for a long time, nest around us, his scent soaking into every fabric.
By the time my tears dry, the room smells different. Heavier. Real.
