🖤 MARKED BY MIDNIGHT

ROOFTOP RUN

ROOFTOP RUN

Smoke and dust swirled around them like a storm, the rooftop lights slicing through the haze in jagged lines. Rafe held Eliana tight as they rolled behind a ventilation unit, the echo of the grenade still ringing in their ears.

Her hair clung to her damp forehead. Her pulse hammered in her throat, and yet, she wasn’t afraid. Not completely. Not when he was here.

Rafe’s jaw was tight. His eyes scanned every edge, every shadow. Every flicker of movement made his muscles tense like a predator ready to strike.

“They’ll be back,” he muttered, voice low, almost to himself.

Eliana swallowed, trying to steady her breath. “We need the helicopter.”

He glanced at her, a flash of heat crossing his gaze. “Then we move now.”

He grabbed her hand, guiding her across the rooftop in long, precise strides. She matched his pace, trusting instinctively that he wouldn’t let her stumble, wouldn’t let her fall.

Gunfire cracked below them. Bullets pinged off metal pipes and concrete slabs. One grazed the edge of her jacket. Her breath caught, but Rafe didn’t falter.

Halfway across, they stopped behind a cluster of AC units. Rafe pressed her against the cool metal, close enough that the warmth of his chest brushed her back.

“You’re not supposed to be this calm,” he said, voice rough. “Most people freeze. You…” He let the word hang. “…you fight.”

She looked up at him, heart thudding for reasons beyond fear. “I’m not most people.”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he glanced over the edge, spotting movement on the lower floors. Shadows flitted along stairwells and ledges.

“They know we’re here,” he said. “But they don’t know which way we’ll go next.”

“Which way is next?” she asked.

Rafe’s lips pressed into a thin line. “The roof isn’t safe for long. There’s an old service ladder on the north edge. It leads to the back alley. Then… we run until we’re off their radar.”

Her stomach twisted at the thought, but she didn’t protest. She trusted him.

As they approached the ladder, Rafe’s hand brushed hers. Deliberate. Not accidental. Controlled.

Elliana froze for a heartbeat, letting the heat spike between them. Then, without thinking, she entwined her fingers with his.

Rafe’s gaze snapped to hers. Dark, intense, dangerous. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

The sound of footsteps rushing across the roof brought them back to reality.

“Now,” he whispered.

They climbed the ladder in tandem, the night wind whipping against their faces. Bullets kicked up concrete dust around them, but Rafe moved like a shadow, protective and precise, keeping her shielded with every step.

When they reached the alley below, Rafe paused, scanning the shadows. Eliana’s hand remained in his, a tether in the chaos.

“They’re still out there,” he murmured.

Eliana nodded. “Then we keep moving.”

He leaned close, voice low, brushing against her ear. “You need to trust me completely. Even when you don’t know what’s coming.”

“I do,” she whispered, feeling the warmth of him searing into her skin.

A low whistle came from the shadows behind them. Rafe’s hand went instinctively to his gun.

“They’re testing us,” he muttered. “And we’re not done yet.”

Elliana swallowed, her chest rising with adrenaline and something else she couldn’t name. Danger and desire, tangled together, sharper than the night air around them.

Rafe’s jaw tightened. His eyes never left the darkness ahead. The predator in him was alive. And she knew, with terrifying certainty, that he would not let anyone take her...not tonight.