Page 25 of Ghosts of the Dead

Rocking.

Muttering.

“No, no, that’s not real. Stay away. Don’t go…” The words come out soft and choked as he breaks apart.

He doesn’t see me.

I crouch in front of him and keep my voice barely above a whisper. “Caspian.”

No reaction. No sign he heard me. His hands clench into trembling fists until his knuckles go white. “Don’t. Please. I’m sorry.”

My heart splinters for this broken man I hardly know. I hesitate before reaching forward to press my palm against his cheek. “Hey, Caspian. Look at me.”

His skin is ice cold. His jaw tightens beneath my fingers and his breath hitches, but no response.

I lean in closer and press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Hey. You’re safe,” I whisper against his cool, clammy skin. “You’re not there. You’re here, Caspian. Here with me, Autumn.”

A flicker. His eyelids twitch but don’t open. His mouthparts and I wait for him to speak, but no words come. His whole body stays locked.

I slide my hand from his cheek to one of his fists, then guide it up to my face, letting his frozen knuckles brush along my jaw. “Feel that, Caspian? I’m real. I’m here. Come back to me.”

His breath stutters again, then shifts and evens out. His other hand lifts blindly, thumb pressing feather-light against my wrist, right over Jace’s bandage. The touch is gentle. Nothing like how he’s hurting himself.

When his eyes blink open, they’re wide and stormy, filled with terror and shame.

I shake my head before he can speak. “You don’t have to be okay right now, Cas. You just have to be here.”

His eyes close again, but this time, there’s no flinch. Only my name, falling from his lips in a rough whisper: “Autumn.”

We stay like that for a while, wrapped in the quiet darkness. Little by little, the chill leaves his skin.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice pained.

“For what?”

He shakes his head and opens his eyes, finally meeting my gaze. “For you having to see that. I usually handle it fine on my own.”

“Yeah?” I arch a brow. “Because it didn’t look like you were handling anything fine tonight. Hasn’t anyone ever tried to help you before?”

His smile is sad. “Jace and Mars tried more than anyone. I always pushed them away, though. Though dealing with it alone was better. Safer. Eventually…they stopped trying.”

“You’re not pushing me away,” I point out.

There’s a pause, then something shifts in his eyes. “You’re right. I’m not.”

“Is that why you came out here? To get away from everyone?”

He nods and rests his cheek against my palm. “Didn’t want to wake anyone. I’m tired of feeling like my past owns me. Thought maybe if I faced it alone, I could fight it.” He laughs once, but it’s dry and joyless. “Guess it won.”

When he doesn’t elaborate, I try to make sense of this so I can help him. “Caspian. What happened in the alley?”

“The darkness won.”

“No, it didn’t.” I keep my voice gentle. “You disappeared, but then you came back. You did that then, and you’re doing it now.”

There’s a few moments of silence where I wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t.

I ask, “You’re not a fan of the dark, are you?”

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