Page 17 of Storm of Stars (Pride of Praxis #2)

CHAPTER

NINE

Zaffir

I was a little more careful leaving the studio after the trial. Can you blame me? The last time I walked out those doors, I was kidnapped and tortured.

So, yeah. A little extra caution felt earned.

Ezra barely even waited for the final note of the show to fade before he was stalking off the stage and coming to a stop at my side, ignoring Nova’s protests and cutting through the chaos with a single-minded focus.

He gripped my arm, not rough, but firm, and pulled me away from the camera station I’d barely had time to pack up. No hesitation. Just action. Just me.

I shouldn’t have liked it. The way he took control, the way he didn’t ask, just did . But God help me, I did. The protectiveness sent wicked thoughts racing through my mind, sharp as fire and twice as hot.

The crowd clawed for him, of course. He’s Ezra. A star to them. One of the Wildguard. But his focus didn’t flicker. Not once. He didn’t see the fans, the lights, the cameras. He saw me.

And he wasn’t letting me out of his sight.

I barely had time to gather my gear before he pulled me into a shadowy corner backstage, hidden from the mass of handlers and techs.

I could hear the other Challengers being shuttled out toward their cars, the buzz of conversation and flashing lights still bleeding in from the stage.

But here, tucked behind thick curtains and heavy velvet, it was just us.

“Subtle,” I teased, trying to keep it light, trying not to let my pulse give me away.

He looked at me then. Really looked. Eyes burning with something dark and fierce.

“I told you,” he said, voice low and trembling with restrained fury. “I’m never going to let her put her hands on you again.”

Those words hit me somewhere deep, deeper than I wanted to admit. The kind of place that makes breathing difficult.

“Technically,” I said, forcing a laugh I didn’t quite feel, “she didn’t touch me. She just ordered the guards to.”

He didn’t smile. Didn’t ease.

Instead, he pressed me gently, deliberately , into the narrow alcove, the black curtain closing us in. The heat of him was overwhelming, our bodies just inches apart. I could feel him without him even touching me. My breath hitched, and I bit down on my lip.

His eyes followed the movement.

And for one sharp, suspended moment, I thought he was going to kiss me again. Finally. Put me out of my damn misery. My entire body was screaming for it. For him.

But instead, he blinked, leaned back just enough to break the spell.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Coast is clear.”

He reached for my bag, slinging it over one shoulder, and took my wrist with the other, leading me from the alcove toward the car waiting just outside.

My mind was a storm. My body was worse. Every step throbbed with unsaid things and unfinished moments. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to do more than that. I wanted…

Ezra ushered me into the car, and I wasn't oblivious to the way he held his body like a shield with his head on a swivel until I was safely inside. Instantly, arms wrapped around me.

“Congratulations,” I whispered as Brexlyn’s arms wrapped tightly around me. She pulled me in close, her scent grounding me.

She’d won. Well, her and Briar. First place in the trial, announced just moments before the curtain fell.

The audience had voted, and Brexlyn and Briar had earned it by a landslide.

I didn’t know what Briar’s deal with the Entertainment Trial was, not really, I could just tell it was important to her.

So, when they called her name, something in her shifted.

Her whole body seemed to exhale, relief washing over her like a tide she’d barely kept at bay.

“I’m just glad you’re safe,” Brexlyn murmured, her lips brushing my neck in a way that made my breath catch all over again. I melted into her, my body reacting instinctively. I wanted her. Right here, right now, in front of everyone.

But I reined it in. Just barely.

“Don’t worry about me,” I said with a sly glance toward Ezra. “My bodyguard kept me safe.”

Ezra, finally starting to relax, cracked the faintest of smirks as the car pulled away from the curb.

But Brexlyn wasn’t smiling.

“I don’t think any of us are going to be safe after tonight,” she whispered, so soft I barely caught it.

And she was right.

Shockingly, every single Challenger had used tonight’s trial to quietly pledge allegiance to the Runaway movement. We didn’t coordinate it, not openly, but somehow, we all understood what was at stake. What was being asked of us. And we each found our own way to answer.

Maybe Archon Veritas didn’t know what to look for.

Maybe she didn’t recognize our coded messages, the songs, the symbols, the stories slipped into the performances like knives hidden in bouquets.

If she had known, truly known, she would’ve shut it down.

She would’ve silenced us before we even reached the stage.

But she hadn’t. Which meant she didn’t know everything.

Not yet.

But she had to feel it now, the pressure drop, the static charge in the air. The quiet before the downpour. The storm was coming. And we were the eye of it.

None of us spoke on the topic anymore. Not with Nova up front. Brexlyn seemed to think Nova wasn’t as ‘Praxis praising’ as she seemed. Still, it felt smarter not to risk it.

So instead, I shifted Brexlyn into my lap, tugging her back against my chest and wrapping my arms tight around her middle. Like I could shield her. Like I could hold the world together by holding her.

She giggled softly as I shifted beneath her, and I knew she felt it, the evidence of just how deeply she affected me as I pressed my hips and my hardening cock against her backside. Her almost lustful laugh made my stomach twist with hunger, and I leaned into it. Into her.

My fingers found her thigh, tracing slow, idle patterns across her skin. Each pass drifted higher, the touch featherlight but full of promise. Her breath caught, just a little, each time I passed the hem of her dress. She didn’t stop me. She opened to me.

The air in the car changed. Thickened. Charged.

I didn’t need to look to know we had an audience.

Thorne and Briar were watching Brexlyn like they’d forgotten how to breathe. Briar with barely restrained hunger, Thorne with a kind of reverent awe. Their gazes were locked on the triangle of exposed skin at the apex of her thighs, watching the way her legs drifted open, just enough to tease.

But Ezra watched both of us.

His eyes moved back and forth, slow and deliberate, heat blazing in every glance. There was no shame in it. No jealousy. Just want. Unfiltered and heavy.

I kept my eyes on his as I leaned forward, brushing Brexlyn’s hair aside and pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck. Not soft. Not sweet. Claiming. And when she let out a low moan, needy and broken, the entire car seemed to pulse with it.

The temperature rose. The windows fogged at the edges.

And still, no one said a word. We had risked everything tonight, our safety, our lives, to speak the truth, to make a plan hidden in melody and metaphor.

And now, in this car, with Brexlyn moaning in my arms and Ezra watching like he wanted to burn, I realized that I wanted to make the most of every single second with this little family we’ve found. Because tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed.

I pressed a palm against her inner high, urging her to widen her legs even more for me. Thorne had a wicked smirk on his face and he sat back, admiring the view. Brexlyn sighed softly as I brought my lips to her ear.

“Do you think you can stay quiet for us, Brexlyn?” I asked in that demanding tone that I saved for only her. My eyes flashed to Ezra. Well, only them.

She nodded, and I knew she was biting her lip. “That’s my good girl,” I praised and I felt her body tremble in my hold. “If you make a sound, I’ll have to stop. Do you understand?”

She nodded again. Then I let my fingers dance along the seam of her panties. I felt her tense in my hold, like she was trying not to let the moan escape. When I slid the fabric to the side and exposed her center, Briar leaned forward. Her eyes feasting on our girl’s glistening pussy.

I trailed a single finger through her slickness, using a featherlight touch.

Her hips pressed forward, trying to encourage my fingers to slide inside of her.

But I wasn’t ready for that. I met Ezra's eyes, and began slowly circling Brexlyn’s clit with soft gentle pressure.

Her head lulled back against my shoulder, exposing her throat to me.

I pressed another kiss to her heated skin as my finger danced along her sensitive and throbbing clit.

When I felt her body tightening, and could hear her soft muffled moans, I pressed my finger deep inside of her heat. She gasped, and I had to fight every urge to keep chasing that sound to pull my hand from her center. Completely withdrawing from her body. She whimpered.

“You promised you’d stay quiet, Brexlyn,” I challenged.

“I will,” she cried in a barely there whisper.

“I dunno baby. Not sure I can trust you,” I teased, meeting her eyes over her shoulder.

I lifted my fingers to my mouth and tasted her arousal on them.

I, following my own rules, stifled the moan that threatened to pull from me.

God, her taste was delicious. Tangy and sweet.

I could savor her for hours. Brexlyn and Ezra’s eyes were heated on my skin as they watched me taste her off of my fingers.

Before I could change my mind, I was thrusting my fingers toward Ezra’s lips.