The mont Dominic saw Celeste approaching, he stepped out of the car. The night air bit colder than he had expected.
A sharp wind rushed through the darkened street, carrying with it the faint sll of wet stone. He reached for the coat he had packed in the backseat earlier, almost grateful now for his habit of preparing for everything. With long, quick strides, he crossed the space between them.
The wind tugged at Celeste’s hair as though it wanted to keep her for itself. She was almost swallowed by the gust, her fra was small against the dark night, but she carried herself with that quiet stubbornness he knew so well.
Dominic draped the coat over her shoulders. He held her, steadying her when the wind whipped again, and smoothed her hair back from her face with careful fingers. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice pitched low, warm, and protective.
Celeste tilted her head just enough to et his eyes. She gave him that kind of smile that was not full, nor radiant, but soft. "I am," she said.
He didn’t buy it, not fully. Yet, he pushed it away for now. Dominic knew Celeste too well to press in that mont. If she wanted to fold her truths away, she’d do it neatly, the way she always did, and all he could do was wait.
The coat swallowed her fra. She tugged it closer, inhaling the faint trace of his cologne still caught in the fabric. The sll of him wrapped around her almost as tightly as the coat did, grounding her, steadying her against the aftershocks of the night.
Dominic’s eyes lingered on her longer than he intended. He could tell sothing had shaken her, even though her words fought to deny it.
He could feel it in the taut set of her shoulders, and in the way her hands clutched at the coat.
"Amara is fine now." Celeste said suddenly, filling the silence. She wove the lie with the sa ease she tied her hair. Her hands moved practiced, and fluid, selling her away again. "She... she wanted to talk about sothing personal. I couldn’t just ignore her."
Dominic’s brows drew together, suspicion flickering for a breath, but he let it pass. "This late? She wanted to talk this late?"
Celeste nodded, smoothing the coat as if straightening it would steady her story. "You know how Amara can get when she keeps things bottled up too long. She didn’t want to wait until morning."
Dominic studied her face, the searching kind of gaze that made it hard for anyone else to breathe under, but Celeste held his eyes steady. She had to. If she faltered now, if she let him glimpse what really happened...
"I didn’t an to worry you," she added softly, her voice carrying an edge of guilt.
"You didn’t," Dominic said automatically, though the truth was written in the tension in his jaw, the way his hand still rested against her arm like he wasn’t quite ready to let go. "I just... I needed to make sure you were safe."
Celeste’s chest tightened. Guilt curled deep inside her. He was always this way, steady, certain, and protective in a way that didn’t suffocate but anchored her. And yet here she was, lying to him, choosing silence over truth.
The night deepened around them, the wind still tugging at her hair despite his attempts to smooth it back. His touch lingered just a heartbeat longer than necessary.
Celeste forced another smile, gentler this ti, and turned slightly toward the car. "Let’s go ho," she murmured.
Dominic leaned in for a kiss.
The kiss wasn’t rushed, nor forceful. He closed the space slowly, giving her the chance to pull back if she wanted. His hand cupped her cheek, and the warmth of his palm cut through the cold night, anchoring her even more firmly than the coat draped around her shoulders.
Celeste’s breath caught. For a heartbeat she thought of Amara’s voice trembling as she spoke of the ambush. She thought of Elias appearing out of nowhere like a shadow waiting for its cue, and harm them.
Her stomach tightened, her mind scread to hold on to the doubt, and to the questions that gnawed at her, but for her sanity, she dropped it for now.
When Dominic’s lips brushed hers, all of that softened, and folded into the background. The kiss was steady. It was more of a promise, than a kiss. The sa kind he’d given her since the first ti he decided she was his.
Her hand found his chest, pressing against the firm plane of muscle there, to steady herself. His heartbeat thudded under her palm. He slled of cedar and smoke, of sothing warm and grounding.
When they parted, just barely, Dominic’s forehead rested against hers. His breath mingled with hers, warm in the night air. "Don’t scare like that again," he murmured.
Celeste swallowed, her throat thick. She wanted to say I’ll try. She wanted to say I’m sorry. Instead, she whispered, "I won’t."
A lie, again. Small, but it burned all the sa.
Dominic kissed her once more, shorter this ti, like he couldn’t help himself, then pulled back just enough to slip his arm around her shoulders. He guided her toward the car, shielding her body from the wind with his own.
By the ti he opened the car door for her, Celeste’s guilt felt like a second skin. She sank into the seat, tugging the coat tighter around herself, trying to breathe.
Dominic circled the car and slid into the driver’s seat. His hand reached for hers instinctively, finding it. He held her.
He didn’t look at her, not right away, but his thumb brushed along her knuckles in slow, grounding strokes.
Celeste stared out of the window. She stared at the dark street retreating behind them, her heart heavy. She had lied to him tonight.
And still, she held on to his hand.
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