Page 113 of Celestial Combat

“Yeah?” I looked up at him through my dark lashes, voice soft.

His jaw clicked like a trigger pulled back too far.

We stood there, locked in that breathless space between too much and not enough. His eyes burned down into mine, full of restraint and fury and something far more dangerous.

Desire.

Pure. Raw. Unapologetic.

Around us, the crowd moved on. The music pounded, lights flashed – but none of it mattered. Not when his hands were still on my waist like a brand. Not when his eyes were that deep. Not when I knew exactly what I was doing to him.

And that he was going to let me. For now.

One second, I was on the dance floor. The next, I was off the ground and upside down, legs dangling in the air and Zane’s arm clamped around the back of my thighs as he threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

I shrieked, half laughing, half scandalized.

Zane walked, steady and unbothered, cutting a path through the drunk crowd; his grip solid, possessive.

The cool night air hit my skin as we stepped out onto the street, a blacked-out SUV parked at the curb. Zane finally let me down, heels landing on the asphalt with a soft thud.

I swayed – just slightly – into him, the edge of the tequila still humming through my blood. My fingers found the lapel of his jacket like instinct. He didn’t push me away, but he didn’t let me forget that this wasn’t some game either.

I leaned around him, opening the car’s passenger door and catching the leather seats in the dark interior and grinned. “Shotgun!”

His grip on my upper arm tightened – not rough, but firm enough to pull me back. He leaned down, breath brushing my ear, voice like gravel and sin. “Brats don’t get to sit in the front,”

A shiver rippled down my spine, equal parts adrenaline and heat.

“They get escorted out,” He murmured. “Like in a police car.”

I blinked up at him. “So, you’re a fed now?”

“No. Justyourparole officer.”

Heopened the car’s back door. With a dramatic sigh, I slipped into the backseat, the heavy scent of leather and danger wrapping around me. Zane shut the door for me and walked around to the driver’s side. Getting in, his jaw was tense, shoulders coiled.

Whatever punishment he had in mind…

I was just getting started.

The city blurred past in streaks of amber and chrome as I guided the SUV through Manhattan’s late-night lull, one hand on the wheel, the other curled in a slow clench on my thigh. Kali sat behind me, silent, pressed against the far window like she was trying to disappear into the passing lights. She hadn’t said a word since we left the club.

I adjusted the rear-view mirror slightly.

There she was – eyes half-lidded, lips pulled into a pout that wasn’t deliberate, just natural. Her face was turned to the glass, cheek resting on the tinted window like she needed the coolness to calm the storm inside her. The city’s neon reflected in her eyes, fractured and restless.

“Kali.” My voice broke the silence, smooth but heavy with everything unsaid. “You need to come to terms with it.”

Her brows furrowed just enough to crease the glass in her reflection.

“I’m your bodyguard. You can fight it all you want, but it won’t change the fact that I’m not going anywhere.”

There was a long stretch of quiet, the kind that pulsed between breaths. Then she leaned just slightly off the glass, her voice low, sharp. “Why you, Zane? My brother has actual men on payroll.”

I caught her gaze in the mirror. Dark. Wounded. Defiant.

“Because none of them would die for you.”

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