Page 49 of Ghosts of the Dead

I pass Luna near the edge of camp. She’s curled beside her water bowl with her ears slightly back. She lifts her head with a soft whine, like she knows where I’m going, but she doesn’t follow.

I don’t go far. Past the trees and beyond the edge of the glow. Far enough to be alone, but still close enough in case something goes wrong.

The quiet doesn’t help.

The dark presses in faster than I expect, so I’m not prepared for the onslaught. Flashbacks slip in through the cracks in my mind. Bones, blood, smoke, screaming. My father’s voice in the dark. My brother’s last breath.

Casper. That’s what they always called me, but that’s not my name.

I close my eyes and press my back to the cold brick wall of a crumbling structure. Everything is always crumbling out here. My breathing speeds up. My chest tightens. My hands fist at my sides.

This was a mistake. I should go back.

I turn around to do exactly that, but stop short at the sight in front of me.

Autumn appears like a ghost in the night. Her bare legs gleam pale in the moonlight, the tattered denim of her shorts riding high. Mars’s dark gray and black flannel hangs past the frayed hem, loose and unbuttoned, revealing a thin gray tank that barely reaches below her breasts. Her purple hair blows wild around her face, strands catching on the wind. And those eyes, hazel and bright, glaring at me like she already knows exactly why I’m out here.

She stands a few feet away, arms crossed over her stomach. Behind her, the branches glow faintly from the fires we left burning around the campfire, light and shadow framing her in something almost otherworldly.

She doesn’t ask if I’m okay. She doesn’t hesitate.

She walks toward me with slow steps, like she’s approaching a wounded and dangerous creature. It only makes me want to back away, but I can’t. I stay frozen. Not from fear. From want.

From the desperate need to have her close, even when every broken part of me screams to run.

Then her hands are on my face, warm against my skin, and I can’t stop myself from leaning into them.

She shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t touch me like this.

But she looks at me like I’m worth something.

“You’re incredible, Caspian,” she says, her eyes glistening in the moonlight. “You deserve the world.”

Somehow, that hurts more than anything else, because I’ve never let myself believe it before. No matter who said it, or how often. But hearing it from her? I almost believe it.

Her thumbs trace gentle circles along my cheekbones, and I can’t help but lean into the touch this time. The warmth spreads through my chest, melting some of the ice that’s been there for so long.

When she steps closer, I can smell the faint scent of smoke and something uniquely her. Something that makes me want to pull her against me and never let go.

Her breath is warm against my skin. Every part of her is warm. She’s pure light in the darkest pitch black.

“You’re wrong, Cas. You don’t have to carry this alone.” She says the words I’ve never let myself believe. And I break.

I close the distance between us. My lips crash into hers with a desperation that surprises us both. Unlike the last two, this kiss is hungry, raw, with everything I’ve held back flooding out at once.

She doesn’t pull away like I expect her to. Instead, she melts into me and kisses me back with equal fervor, sending my heartbeat into overdrive. It pounds so hard in my chest that it hurts, but I force myself to hold back. To not scare her away.

Her hands slide from my face to tangle in my hair, tugging hard enough to make me groan against her mouth.

The sound seems to ignite something in her, and lips part under mine. When our tongues meet, it’s like striking a match in the darkness that’s all-consuming.

I turn us around and press her back against the wall with my body caging her in. My hands slide down to her waist and my fingers brush the bare skin exposed by her torn tank top, right above the waistband of her denim shorts. The contact sends electricity shooting through both of us. She arches into me and a soft moan escapes her throat that sends heat spiraling through me.

Her hands fist in the fabric of my hoodie, pulling me ever closer. I can feel every curve of her body pressed against mine through the thin cotton, feel the way her breathing hitches when I drag my lips along her jaw to that spot below her ear that makes her body shudder.

The flannel she wears has slipped off one shoulder, and Ican smell Mars’s scent mixed with hers. Something that should bother me, but it doesn’t. She tastes like salvation and damnation all at once.

My mouth finds the sensitive skin of her neck, and I feel her pulse racing beneath my lips. A continuous thrum that bursts with life.

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