Page 31 of Wraith

“This isn’t working anymore,” I muttered, the words hanging in the frosty air.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and kept walking, the cracks in our group trailing behind me like shadows I couldn’t outrun.

Twenty-One

The airin Lucian’s apartment was thick with the warmth of sleep and the faint musk of bodies intertwined. Shadows stretched across the walls, their edges softened by the dim glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains. I didn’t drift in so much asclaimthe space, the flicker of my form rippling like a breeze through still water. My gaze locked on him immediately—his form sprawled across the bed, vulnerable and infuriatingly perfect, his chest rising and falling in an easy rhythm that mocked the storm churning inside me.

My focus shifted, and the sight ofhercurled beside him sent a sharp pang through me. She lay pressed against his side, her dark hair fanned out across the pillow, her bare skin glowing softly in the dim light. My jealousy flared, hot and visceral. “She doesn’t deserve this,” I whispered, the words barely audible even to myself. “She doesn’t deserve you.”

I drifted closer, the bond between us pulsing faintly, pulling me toward him. It was weak, fractured by death but still there, a thread tying me to him in ways he couldn’t begin to understand.My fingers ghosted over his chest, tracing the faint rise and fall of his breaths. The touch was insubstantial, my translucent hand passing through his skin, but the act was enough to feed the possessiveness twisting inside me.

“You always were mine,” I murmured, leaning down until my lips hovered just above his ear. The words spilled from me like a confession, equal parts longing and anger. My jealousy warped into something darker as I traced his chest, my touch lingering lower, skimming over the hard lines of his abdomen. The flicker of power from the bond fed me, made me bolder, more substantial, as though his energy was willingly surrendering to me.

I slid my hand lower, watching his body for signs of reaction. The faintest twitch of his lips sent a thrill racing through me. My grin widened as I leaned closer, my whispers taunting now. “Do you feel me, Lucian? Even in your dreams, you know I’m here. You’ll never escape me.”

As I continued, his breathing hitched, his body stirring beneath my touch. My fingers trailed further, brushing over him, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. The tension in his muscles shifted, and a low groan escaped him. Satisfaction bloomed in my chest as I watched him harden beneath my hand, his body betraying him even in sleep.

I couldn’t help the wicked smile that curled my lips as I felt Lucian grow hard under my touch. The power surging through me from our bond was intoxicating, and it sparked an idea so deliciously naughty I could barely contain myself. My black dress, the same one I’d worn on the night of my death, was a whisper against my skin as I gathered it up over my hips. With a slow, deliberate motion, I hooked my fingers into the sides of my panties and pulled them aside, baring myself to the cool air of the room—and to him.

Using the energy that pulsed between us, I focused on becoming more solid, feeling the familiar slide of becoming tangible, at least to him. I positioned myself over him, my heart pounding in my chest as I lowered myself onto his cock. The sensation was strange, a mix of ethereal and corporeal, as I started to ride him, slow and measured.

His face was a mask of pleasure in the dim light, and every so often, I’d glance at his girlfriend lying beside him. Each time I looked at her, a surge of possessiveness would shoot through me, and I’d find myself riding Lucian harder, grinding down onto him with increasing fervor.

As Lucian’s moans and groans grew louder, I leaned forward, pressing my hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds. The last thing I wanted was to wake up his girlfriend—or Lucian himself. I watched him closely, my own pleasure building with every movement, every twitch of his body beneath mine.

I couldn’t help but stare as I rode him, my transparent form allowing me to see him inside me, his cock twitching and throbbing in the air yet intimately connected with me. It was a surreal sight, and it pushed me closer to the edge.

When I came, it was with a shuddering intensity that rocked through my entire being. I felt Lucian follow moments later, his body tensing beneath mine as he emptied himself into me. I watched, transfixed, as his release painted my insides white making me look less see through and more real, an erotic spectacle I could never have imagined in life.

I stayed there, perched on top of him, whispering all the things I’d always wanted to say into his ear. Sweet nothings mingled with dark promises, a blend that made his body twitch in response. And before I finally withdrew from him, leaving him spent and sated in his sleep, I made sure to leave a mark—a hickey, high on his neck where the world would see it. It was a claim, a signature on my work.

As the night waned, I continued to whisper to him, my voice a soft murmur in the quiet room. I told him secrets and dreams, confessions of love and hate, until the first light of dawn crept through the curtains. And when I finally slipped away, leaving Lucian to wake with the evidence of our night together, I felt a sense of satisfaction I hadn’t known since before my death.

The first light of dawn seeped through the curtains as I straightened, my gaze lingering on him one last time. He looked peaceful, as though the night hadn’t happened. My attention shifted to her—still curled up beside him, her lips parted slightly in sleep, her hair a tangled halo on the pillow. The jealousy burned hotter now, clawing its way up my chest.She didn’t deserve him. She never did.

I drifted to her side of the bed, the faint hum of the bond still thrumming through me. Her phone sat on the nightstand, the screen dark but tantalizing. I reached for it, my translucent fingers brushing the cold glass as it lit up. Locked. No problem.

I leaned closer, angling the phone toward her face. The screen unlocked instantly, revealing a message thread I’d already seen.Twomessage threads, actually. I’d caught her texting them before—two different men she was cheating on Lucian with, her thumbs flying across the screen while Lucian sat barely a foot away. I’d wanted to snap the phone in half then and there, but this moment was so much sweeter.

I scrolled through the messages, my grin widening with every swipe. Explicit photos, promises of secret rendezvous, and words so vile they stung evenme.Weak.Clingy.He’s just a fallback.

I glanced at her, still obliviously curled against Lucian, and felt the last thread of my restraint snap. “You thought you were so clever,” I murmured, my voice a ghostly whisper. “But you don’t know the first thing about consequences.”

With a flick of my finger, I selected every incriminating message, every photo, and every word. My finger hovered over the contacts list for a moment, savoring the anticipation.Two men? Let’s see how many others need to know who you really are.I tappedSelect All,watching the names populate the recipient list.

Before I hitSend,I navigated to her settings, my touch precise. A quick tap set her phone toDo Not Disturb,ensuring no sound, no vibrations, no lights would betray the chaos I was about to unleash. “Wouldn’t want you waking up too soon,” I said with a smirk.

Then, I hitSend.The screen confirmed the message had gone through, and within seconds, the phone began to fill with notifications—silent, unseen, but relentless. I set it back on the nightstand, its dark screen as oblivious as its owner.

I leaned down, my lips hovering close to her ear. “You’ll never have all of him,” I hissed, my tone dripping with venom. She stirred slightly, her brow furrowing, but she didn’t wake.

Straightening, I turned back toward Lucian, my gaze softening for just a moment. He looked so at peace, so unbothered by the chaos he’d wake to. The mark on his neck—a dark, unmistakable bruise—stood out starkly against his skin. My mark. My claim.

As I slipped out of the apartment, the sky turning a pale lavender with the coming dawn, I felt a smug satisfaction settle over me. She would learn what it felt like to lose him. To loseeverything.

Twenty-Two

The first thingI noticed when I woke up was how warm and comfortable I felt. The sheets were soft against my skin, the faint scent of Emma’s shampoo still on the pillow beside me. For the first time in weeks, the weight on my chest didn’t feel quite as heavy. The nightmares hadn’t come, and my body still thrummed with the kind of satisfaction only she could give me.

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