Page 158 of Celestial Combat

Present

Brooklyn, New York City

I JERKED AWAKE TO THE echo of heavy knocking. My head throbbed with the remnants of sleep and the pull of molten warmth – Kali’s weight, warm and comforting, pressed into my side. She stirred beside me, eyes blinking through the dark, confused.

It took a moment to realize where we were: the plush black leather chairs of my home theater, the projector screen still glowing faintly with the credits from last night’s movie.

That’s when the sound of the front door opening cut through the silence, along with Trevor’s voice.

“Zane? It’s Trevor!”

Kali bolted upright, blanket pooling on the floor. I did the same. We stared at each other for a heartbeat – eyes wide, hearts pounding.

“Shit!” I hissed, grabbing the throw and yanking it off the loveseat to cover us. Dust motes danced in the glow of the screen. Kali disappeared under fabric.

“I’ll be right out,” I called, voice tight. Kali crawled off the chair and, still half-hidden, began pulling stray pillows back into place.

I ran out, bare feet silent on the carpet, sprinting through the gym entrance to reach the living room from another angle. The hardwood there gleamed under the morning light, dumbbells neatly stacked along the wall.

I rounded the corner just as Trevor entered the main, open-floor plan.

“Hey, man,” he said, raising his hands. “I’ve been knocking for like ten minutes.”

“My bad,” I said quickly, hands shoved into the pockets of my black sweatpants. I rubbed the back of my neck. “Had headphones on. Didn’t hear a thing.”

Trevor shook his head. He stepped inside, glancing around the open living room. “Place doesn’t even have a second alarm?”

I grinned, motioning toward the gym doorway. “I’m all the security needed.”

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling now, at ease.

The moment I heard her soft steps padding in from the home cinema, my stomach tightened. I forced my expression to settle into something neutral – somethingfriendly, like we hadn’t just spent the night together, wrapped in each other.

Kali stepped into the living room like she hadn’t just been tangled in my lap an hour ago. She moved easily – loose curls bouncing as she adjusted the sleeve of my oversized sweatshirt she’d stolen from my drawer. Bare legs. Barefoot. Completely composed.

She didn’t look at me.

Smart.

“There’s the birthday girl!”

Kali smiled, soft and slightly sheepish. “Morning.”

“Trevor walked over to her and pulled her in for a quick, firm hug. “Happy birthday, you little troll.”

“I’m not a kid anymore!” she argued, landing a punch to his ribs.

Trevor stepped back, laughing.

I stayed back.Like I wasn’t watching her smile with those sleepy eyes still glassy from waking up next to me.

Trevor pulled back and reached for a black gift bag he’d placed on the coffee table just moments before Kali came out. “I didn’t wrap it or anything, but I figured you wouldn’t care.”

She peered inside and let out a small gasp. “Oh, my god! You didn’t!”

He grinned. “Custom boxing gloves from Tokyo. Real leather. I called in a favor.”

She slid one out – a sleek matte black pair of boxing gloves, with dark crimson embroidery on the wrist strap. On one, her initials. On the other, her fight name, Meisa.

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