A Dangerous Preposition
885 Words
The underground fight club reeked of sweat, blood, and testosterone, but none of it fazed her. Not when Aleksandr Kade was watching her with that razor-sharp smirk, his dark eyes gleaming with something between amusement and curiosity.
She knew that look. She had fought beside him, killed beside him, watched him die. In her past life, he had been her shield, her sword, and sometimes, her greatest frustration.
Now, she had him right where she wanted him.
Aleksandr pushed off the wall, making his way through the dispersing crowd with the fluid grace of a predator. The other fighters gave him space—they knew better than to get in his way.
She wiped the sweat from her brow, ignoring the throbbing in her knuckles as he stopped in front of her, arms crossed over his broad chest. Up close, he was even more intense than she remembered.
“Not bad,” he murmured, his voice a deep rasp. “Didn’t expect to see someone like you in a place like this.”
She met his gaze, refusing to look away. “I was looking for you.”
A flicker of interest crossed his face. “That so? And here I thought I was the one who did the hunting.”
Her heart pounded. Aleksandr wasn’t the kind of man you recruited. He chose who he fought for.
But she knew exactly how to bait him.
“I have a job for you,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “One that pays better than underground fights or dirty contracts.”
He tilted his head slightly. “And what makes you think I need a job?”
“I don’t.” She let a small smirk touch her lips. “I think you need a reason.”
Something flickered in his gaze. Interest. Suspicion. And something else she couldn’t quite place. In her past life, he had only joined her after the world had collapsed. After everything was already lost.
She couldn’t afford to wait that long this time.
Aleksandr stepped closer, invading her space. Testing her. “You don’t even know what I want.”
She didn’t flinch. “I know you want a fight worth your time. I know you want a cause worth killing for. And I know you don’t trust anyone. But I also know…” She lowered her voice, letting the weight of her next words sink in. “You don’t want to be alone when the world ends.”
A tense silence stretched between them.
Then, to her surprise, he chuckled. A deep, rough sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
“You’ve got a mouth on you, sweetheart.” His gaze darkened, sharp with something dangerous. “And an offer that sounds too good to be true.”
She lifted a brow. “Afraid of a little risk?”
Aleksandr’s smirk widened, slow and predatory. “Not in the slightest.”
He reached out, his fingers grazing her bruised knuckles, sending a jolt of heat up her arm. His touch was deliberate, testing, teasing.
“You fight well,” he murmured, his thumb tracing over a fresh scrape. “But that’s not what interests me.”
She swallowed. She knew where this was going.
Aleksandr had always been intense, always toeing the line between violence and something darker. In her past life, their relationship had been a slow burn, an unspoken tension that never fully ignited before it was too late.
This time, she wasn’t waiting for fate to play its cruel hand.
She stepped closer, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze head-on. “Then what does interest you?”
His fingers slid up her wrist, slow and deliberate, until they rested against the rapid pulse at her throat. His touch was light, almost gentle, but she knew better. Aleksandr didn’t do anything without intent.
“I like people who can keep up,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over her lips. “And you? You’re full of surprises.”
Her heart hammered. This was dangerous. Reckless. But she needed him.
So she did the only thing she could.
She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down, crashing her lips against his.
For a moment, he didn’t move—stunned, maybe. Or just waiting. Then, with a low growl, he responded.
Hard. Demanding.
His hands locked onto her hips, yanking her flush against him. Heat surged between them, raw and unrelenting. She felt the sharp edge of his hunger, the way he took control so effortlessly, like he had been waiting for this just as much as she had.
The fight club faded away. The apocalypse, the dangers, the months ahead—none of it mattered in that moment.
All that mattered was him.
He broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against her lips, “Careful, sweetheart. You play with fire, you’re gonna get burned.”
She smiled, breathless. “Then burn me.”
Aleksandr chuckled, dark and amused, before kissing her again. This time, there was no hesitation.
When they finally pulled apart, his grip on her was possessive, his gaze sharp with something unreadable. “I’ll take the job.”
Victory surged through her. One down. Three to go.
And she had no intention of stopping now.
- Writer
