Page 46 of Wraith

My pulse hammered against my ribs.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "You’re not here."

Her voice was right beside my ear now.

"I never left."

A hand brushed down my chest—too cold, too real.

I jerked, tried to move—still couldn’t.

Lily laughed softly, and the sound was wrong, layered with something else. Something hungry.

"You look so much better when you’re scared," she murmured.

The weight on my chest disappeared all at once, and I sat up so fast my head spun.

The room was empty.

The air still smelled like her perfume.

My hands trembled as I ran them over my face.

This wasn’t real.

This wasn’t real.

But the finger-shaped bruises blooming around my wrists told a different story.

Thirty

The silence was worsethan the torment.

I had grown used to the flickering lights, the phantom touches, the whispers curling around my ears at night. I had adjusted to the feeling of unseen eyes watching me from every shadow, the cold breath of something not quite human brushing against my skin. I had expected the taunts, the illusions, the sharp laughter that slithered into my dreams and forced me awake in a cold sweat.

But now? Now there was nothing.

And that terrified me more than anything else.

I sat in my dorm room, every muscle in my body tight, a cold bead of sweat trailing down my spine. The room was still. Too still. No flickering bulbs, no shifting shadows, no icy breath raising goosebumps along my arms.

She wasn’t here.

That should have been a good thing.

It wasn’t.

My fingers curled into my bedsheets. My breathing came too fast, too shallow, like I couldn’t get enough air. Lilith was playing a new game, and I had no idea what the rules were. That was the worst part. The waiting. The not knowing.

My laptop sat open on my desk, pages and pages of searches blinking back at me—how to protect yourself from spirits, how to break a supernatural bond, signs of possession, warding rituals.

Nothing helped.

Nothing told me how to survive this.

My reflection in the dark screen looked gaunt, my skin pale, eyes sunken. How long had it been since I slept? Days? Weeks? The last time I let myself drift off, I had woken up with scratches down my ribs and bruises on my throat. I had no memory of what happened, only the lingering scent of Lilith’s perfume clinging to my sheets.

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