But before she could finish, Thor grabbed her by the arm, his grip as sharp and unyielding as a silent scream.

“Come with me. Now,” he ground out through clenched teeth, already steering her toward the car.

Celina tried to pull back, her pulse spiking.

“Let me go, Thor!” she protested, struggling against the pressure of his hand, which tightened more than he seemed to realize.

Gabriel stepped forward.

“Didn’t you hear what she said?” His voice was firm, commanding—without the need to shout.

He caught Thor’s arm in a restraining gesture. That was the breaking point.

Exhausted, jealous, and sick with worry, Thor snapped. In a blind impulse, his fist closed and swung before reason had a chance to stop him.

The punch landed hard.

The dull, brutal sound of impact echoed in the air.

Gabriel staggered and went down, one hand flying to his face.

“Gabriel!” Celina’s scream tore through the moment, her heart hammering. She rushed to him, dropping to her knees in a rush of panic.

“Are you okay?