Page 36 of Lost to the Woods

Inside, the shift to awkwardness is instant. Ghost keeps me close, his fingers flexing slightly against my hip like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. My soaked panties stick uncomfortably, and the realization hits like a slap—they know.

Nate certainly knows. He’s still blushing, staying quiet and desperately avoiding eye contact.

I want a shower and maybe an exorcism.

But Dev and Kendra are all hyped up.

“Alright, listen up!” she claps her hands together. “Local lore says once night falls in these mountains, you shut every window, pull the blinds, and whatever the hell you hear outside? You ignore it and let it pass.”

I raise an eyebrow and glance at Ghost. “That’s exactly what Mark said earlier.”

“Yeah,” Ghost mutters, “and every Reddit thread about this place. Don’t get a boner.”

“Funny coming from you,” I retort, unable to help myself. His dick is still outlined it his pants like it has something to say.

Dev zooms in his camera on us like he’s filming a reality show meltdown. “Both of you—focus. We’re here to document weird shit, not fuck in the woods like horny teens.”

Ghost shrugs. “Trying to multitask, man.”

And who would’ve thought that weird shit from the woods would be a cockblock?

I almost say it out loud, because it’s just too perfect of a sick burn, but Kendra stops her feet, killing the momentum.

“Hello? I’m serious,” she whines, already stalking to the nearest window. With a sharp snap, she yanks the blinds shut. “We’re not messing around. Don’t open anything. No matter what.”

So we go through the house, locking both doors, drawing every blind while Dev’s camera keeps rolling. At first, it’s light—some laughs, dramatic commentary, Dev lowering his voice in a dead-on Ghost impression. But then we start filming the darker spots: the crack beneath the front door, the creaking wooden stairs, the hallways leading to empty rooms, closets left ajar.

The vibe changes.

Something about seeing the space through a lens makes it worse. More ominous. Shadows stretch too far, they shift as we move. Every corner feels a little darker now, the floorboards groaning underneath our feet like a warning. The lights flicker in a way that doesn’t feel… natural. Like something moved between them.

Even the air feels wrong. Heavy. Charged. As if it’s holding its breath.

Then we hear it again.

That whistle.

But it’s much more distant than before.

My stomach clenches. “Did you—”

Kendra shushes me, wide-eyed.

“Could be the wind,” Dev whispers as he slowly pans the camera toward the back door.

The whistle comes again, so quiet I gaslight myself that I imagined it.

“It seems farther away,” I say quietly.

“Actually, it’s the opposite, according to the locals,” Nate speaks up, and I immediately wish he stayed silent. “The more distant the sound, the closer it is.”

I blink at him. “Wow, thanks for that, Nate!”

I find myself drifting toward Ghost without meaning to, pulled like a magnet. His presence feels like gravity—solid, calm, grounded. Maybe it’s because he’s the only one who seems to think all of this is just some made-up campfire bullshit—even if it’s just a pose. Or maybe because he’s the strongest one here—and he promised to protect me, right?

“Oh? Bunny’s scared?” He chuckles, smooth and quiet, then loops an arm around my waist, dragging me flush against him.

I let out a sharp breath, hands pressed to his chest—solid muscle under soft cotton. He smells like cedar with faint smoke, and something warm and unmistakably male.

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