Page 109 of Ghosts of the Dead

I square my stance, ready for the next attack. My fingers tighten around the knife handle. Blood drips from my knuckles. I’m not Casper anymore. I’m Caspian, and I will win this.

My movements are fast. I catch the gum-chewing brother by surprise and he stumbles back into the narrow corridor. I drive him into the wall and pin him with my arm against his chest and the tip of my blade pressing to his throat. “Not so fun when the monsters fight back, is it?”

His chest heaves, and he spits his gum into my face. I peel it off my cheek and ram it down his throat until he gags and sinks to the floor, struggling for air.

Luna circles the fallen brothers, her growls now a low, continuous rumble, guarding them in case any try to rise again. Blood darkens her muzzle.

I turn away from him and toward Autumn, who stands frozen near the door with her knife dripping red. Our eyes lock across the dim space, and something primal passes between us. I cross to her in three strides, barely registering the bodies on the ground or the moans of pain echoing around us.

She lets out a faint squeak when I pull her against me. One hand tangles in her purple hair while the other grips her hip hard enough to bruise. My mouth crashes into hers, tasting of blood and victory and salvation. Her response is instantaneous, her body arching into mine, her fingers clawing at my shoulders, my chest, leaving marks I hope never fade.

The kiss is all teeth and tongue and desperation. I bite her lower lip, drawing a soft gasp that shoots straight through me. Her hands slide beneath my shirt, nails raking down my back as I press her against the nearest wall. I dragmy lips down her throat, tasting the salt of her skin, feeling her pulse race beneath my tongue.

“Caspian,” she breathes, and my name—my real name—in her voice is the most powerful thing I’ve ever heard.

I capture her mouth again and lift her so she has to cling to me with her legs wrapping around my waist. My hardening cock presses against her, eliciting a small moan. I could devour her right here, surrounded by blood and death and darkness, because she is light and life and everything I never thought I deserved.

“We should…” she starts, but I silence her with another kiss that’s deeper and hungrier.

“I know,” I say against her lips, gradually coming back to myself. “Later. That’s a promise.”

I would have stripped her bare right here if screams and moans weren’t still echoing around us.

40

AUTUMN

Islide back to my feet with reluctance, still feeling the heat of Caspian’s kiss on my lips. The adrenaline hasn’t faded, but reality crashes back when I look around. Something’s wrong.

“Where are they?” I ask, scanning the floor where the brothers had been lying, hurt, bleeding, and choking just moments ago. There’s nothing. No bodies. No blood trails. Only empty space.

Caspian’s eyes narrow as he looks around. “They were just here.”

The basement door stands open, a dark rectangle leading down to more darkness. Even more concerning is that Luna is nowhere to be seen.

“Luna?” I call out when I stick my head through the door. My voice echoes off the concrete walls, but no answering bark comes.

“They must have gone down there,” Caspian says, already moving toward the stairs. “And Luna followed. She’s going to be alright, Autumn. They all will.”

We don’t waste time discussing it. We’re both running, weapons ready, hearts pounding in sync. The stairwellswallows us when we plunge down them, darker than before, as if the shadows have thickened.

The scene that greets us is pure chaos.

The fight is everywhere. Steel against flesh. Boots scraping over concrete. Hell, even bloodied limbs scraping over concrete. Shouts echoing off the walls. It’s madness.

“I should have killed them better,” Caspian says, watching the scene unfold with me.

Mars is locked in combat with the sandy-haired brother, their bodies slamming against the wall as they grapple. His black shirt is torn at the shoulder with blood seeping through the fabric, but his movements are fluid and lethal.

Then there’s Lucy. She stands frozen near the center of the room with her eyes locked on the women behind the bars, the proof of everything she tried not to believe. She can no longer deny what she’s seeing with her own eyes. “This can’t be real. This can’t be them.”

The brother Mars is fighting shoves him back, slamming a fist into his ribs and grinning wide. “You think she didn’t know?” he sneers. “She’s been living cushy off what we built.”

Lucy stumbles back and shakes her head. “No. No, I didn’t…”

“Sure you did,” the brother spits out. “You liked not knowing. That’s the same thing.”

Her hands tremble and her breath catches. “You’re not family,” she snarls, coming to life. I can almost see the fire in her eyes now. “You’re not family.”

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