Page 92 of Godless Saints

Zara jerked back the second my shoulder crowded her, eyes flashing. “Back off, Ashbourne.”

Moon’s expression iced over. He stepped between us, palm flat against my leather jacket. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

I grabbed his wrist before he could pull back, thumb pressing hard into his racing pulse. The entire ballroom slowed. Phones rose higher. Everyone watching. Someone laughed low in the corner. The Gallery was already eating this alive.

Zara stepped back, chin high, furious. Two girls in designer gowns immediately closed ranks beside her. “I warned you about optics, Hyun.”

She smiled for the watching crowd. “You made this public. So I’m ending it public.”

Moon reached for her, fingers brushing her sleeve. “Zara—”

“No.” Her smile didn’t move. “Whatever is happening between you and Ashbourne, I won’t be your cover story. For the record, I’m ending this.”

She turned. The room erupted in murmurs. Flashes from phones lit the air. Moon’s mouth opened but nothing came out.

I didn’t let go of his wrist. “Ronan Carrick is here,” I growled, stepping in until our chests nearly brushed. “He’s looking for you. This isn’t academy games anymore, Moon. He’s real.”

Moon’s eyes burned into mine. His breath hit hot against my mouth. For one moment I thought he might kiss me or hit me. Instead he twisted his wrist free and grabbed the front of my leather jacket with both fists, yanking me toward the exit like he was the one dragging me out.

His knuckles dug into my chest like he was trying to rip my heart out through the leather. I let him. I’d let him carve it free if it meant he kept touching me. Our bodies collided with every angry step.

“You knew Carrick was here. And instead of texting me, you manhandled me in front of the entire ballroom. Do you understand how humiliating that is? How many eyes were on us?”

I let him pull me through the doors. Snow fell heavier outside. Moon’s breath clouded white, his perfect tux already rumpled from my hands. His thigh brushed mine as we moved.

“Helmet. Now,” I said.

Moon stared at me. Jaw working. Then his eyes cut back toward the ballroom. He snatched the helmet from my hand.

He shoved it on, furious, but he climbed on behind me, anyway. His arms locked around my waist. Fingers dug into my abdomen through the jacket. His chest pressed flush to my back, heart hammering hard enough I could feel it.

I turned the key. The engine roared.

“Hold on tight, prince.”

The bike tore out into the dark, snow whipping past us.

But I knew I’d just detonated everything he’d been trying to save.

The wind was vicious, slicing through my jacket. His knees knocked against mine every time the bike hit a bump. He held on. Hard. I shouldn’t have wanted that. I wanted it more.

We stopped at a gas station. Harsh fluorescent light. Empty pumps. Moon ripped the helmet off. Hair wrecked. Eyes wild.

“What the fuck… you know who’s after me?” Moon snapped, stepping straight into my space. Our chests nearly brushed.

“Calm down, I know you’re—”

“Calm down?” He shoved a finger hard into my chest. Ice-cold. “Ronan Carrick is after me. I never asked for any of this. How fucking hard is it for people to just leave me the fuck alone?” His voice cracked on the last word. “But everyone always has to make my life miserable.”

“You and fucking Sawyer. You knew, didn’t you?”

“I… Yeah.” I held his stare.

Moon’s face twisted with rage and betrayal. For a second I thought he might actually hit me. His breath came fast and hot against my throat.

“Everyone I thought gave a shit about me clearly doesn’t. You. Sawyer. All of you.”

“I thought I could control it,” I said.