Page 157 of Celestial Combat

He reached over, lacing our fingers together. His palm was warm, grounding.

And just like that, this rooftop became ours. Another little world hidden in plain sight. Another secret we wouldn’t tell anyone.

The wind at this height was different – cooler, sharper, cleaner. It swept across my cheeks and tangled my curls as I leaned back on my hands, eyes scanning the glittering skyline like I could read the city. My legs dangled over the edge of the rooftop, sneakers hovering above the endless dark. Zane sat beside me, elbows resting on his knees, gaze fixed on nothing and everything at once.

It was quiet up here, aside from the occasional siren drifting up from the streets, or the distant honk of a cab. The kind of quiet that made people tell the truth.

I turned toward him, chin resting lightly on my shoulder. “What were you doing before you settled in New York?”

Zane didn’t answer right away. His jaw tensed the slightest bit. He tilted his head, eyes still on the lights far below.

“Looking for something,” he said finally. His voice was soft but even, like he’d rehearsed the line before. “Thought if I kept moving, I’d find it.”

“A person?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He was silent again. “A ghost.”

I blinked, my brow furrowing.

“Just something I couldn’t let go of. Eventually, I realized I was chasing smoke. And that some parts of my life…” He paused, glanced at me. “Will stay unsolved.”

I watched his profile. The way the wind teased his lashes. How calm he looked on the outside, while I could feel the war beneath his words. I wanted to press. Ask who. Ask what. But something told me not to. Some wounds weren’t meant to be touched.

So I didn’t.

We sat in silence for a while after that. The kind that wasn’t heavy – just full. The kind where being quiet meant you were still talking, just in a different language.

After a few minutes, I asked, “You’ve traveled all over the world. Why here?”

Zane leaned back, arms stretched behind him as he stared out at the lights of Manhattan.

“I missed the city.”

“Really? You missed the noise?”

He gave me that small, amused huff of a laugh. “Yeah.”

I grinned, tilting my head. “What’s your favorite thing about New York?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked to me, gaze locked with mine. “Your eyes.”

I stared at him. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t teasing. He meant it.

The world paused.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

So instead, I leaned in.

His mouth met mine halfway – soft and certain. The kiss was slow, steady, like we had all the time in the world. Like the buildings could collapse, the city could burn, and we wouldn’t even notice.

His hand found the back of my neck. Mine curled into the front of his hoodie. The cold didn’t matter. The height didn’t matter. Nothing did.

Just him. Just me.

Just this rooftop – and the whole damn city below.

Chapter 40

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