Page 74 of Ghoul Me, Maybe
“You’re mine now,” she says. “So don’t try to leave again. Ever.”
I lean in, slow.
My lips brush hers.
And in that one second—nothing hurts.
No anchors.
No chains.
Just breath.
And her.
We don’t sleep at the beach.
Too many eyes. Too many variables.
And something about the way the wind shifts after midnight makes Sienna’s shoulders tense.
So we drive.
Her truck—rebuilt and half-charred—rattles like a dragon with asthma, but it gets us off the shoreline before sunrise peeks over the dunes.
We hole up in a crumbling motel two towns over. No names, no questions. Just peeling wallpaper and a flickering sign that readsVAC NCY.
I pace while she locks the door.
“Someone’s gonna feel it,” I mutter. “Whatever ritual you used, it wasn’t subtle.”
Sienna tosses the keys on the nightstand. “Yeah. That’s why we’re not exactly putting out a press release.”
I pause by the window.
Outside, mist curls across the parking lot like it hasn’t realized I’m not part of it anymore.
“They’ll come, won’t they?” I ask.
“The magical oversight boards? Probably. Eventually. If anyone caught the energy signature... yeah.”
I turn to her. “And when they do?”
She crosses the room.
Stops right in front of me.
“We lie. We hide. Welive.” Her hand finds mine. “That’s the deal, right?”
I don’t answer right away.
Because I don’t want to taint her hope with the weight I’ve always carried.
But she sees it anyway.
“Screw ‘em,” she says. “They didn’t bleed to save you. They didn’t scream your name into the void.”
“Sienna—”
