Page 156 of Celestial Combat

My breath caught. My lips parted, ready to correct her.

But Zane was faster.

“Feels like forever,” he said with a slow grin, eyes still on her – but I could feel him watching me sideways, through the corner of his gaze.

I blinked, stunned, then looked down quickly as heat rushed to my cheeks. I pretended to be interested in the subway map above the door, but I wasn’t fooling anyone.

The woman laughed softly. “Well, you found yourself a good one, honey,” she told me, tapping her cane against the floor. “You can tell by the way he holds you – he’s not letting go.”

I didn’t know what to say. So I didn’t say anything. I just blushed and tucked myself deeper into Zane’s side, trying to hide the way my heart was beating too fast.

The train kept moving. And I just stayed there, safe under his arm, listening to the soft rumble of the city and the unspoken things between us.

The moment we stepped out of the subway and into the crush of Manhattan, I knew exactly what Zane was planning.

I glanced up – sky split between soft twilight blue and glowing glass towers – and caught the little twitch at the corner of his mouth. That subtle, smug thing he did when he thought he was being clever.

“Rooftop hopping?” I asked, smirking.

He didn’t answer. Just slid his hand into mine and led the way.

We cut across busy streets, past hotdog carts and clouds of steam curling from sidewalk grates, until we reached a shadowy parking garage tucked between two buildings. There were no signs. No indication we belonged. Which was the point.

Zane hit the elevator button with his knuckle, and we rode it up in silence – just the two of us, watching the flickering numbers tick higher. When we got to the top level, we took the stairwell. The concrete steps wound upward forever, echoing each step like a heartbeat in stone.

At the top, he nudged open a rusted metal door. Wind rushed at us – cold and clean, full of everything.

And then we were there.

A brand-new rooftop.

It was higher than any we’d been on before. Manhattan stretched below us like a living thing – lights blinking in rhythm, taxis like moving stars, the river glinting far beyond like a sheet of black silk.

I stepped out slowly, wind lifting my curls from my face.

We were gods up here. But also... nothing at all. And somehow that made me feel free.

Zane didn’t say a word as he walked to the edge. I followed, and together we sat, side by side, legs swinging over the side of the building. It was a long, long way down. But I wasn’t scared.

I leaned into him. “This one needs a name,” I said.

He raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. We’ve already got ‘dream roof,’ ‘fight roof,’ and ‘make-out roof.’”

I nodded. “This one…” I looked out over the sea of lights and people and noise below. “This is ‘God roof.’”

Zane smirked. “Bit dramatic.”

I shrugged. “We’re so high up, it makes sense.”

We sat there, watching the night swirl below us – golden lights against deep blues, city sirens like faraway lullabies.

For a while, neither of us spoke. Just us, the sky, and the hush of everything else.

“I like feeling small here,” I murmured.

Zane turned his head to me, his face shadowed by the wind. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I smiled softly, my voice quieter now. “It makes everything else… Feel lighter. Like none of the bullshit matters when you’re this high up.”