Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

GHOST

S he scared the fuck out of me last night.

Not that I'd admit it to anyone, but finding her in Wreckage, seeing that zombie coming after her, watching her struggle with the savage fall—my heart hasn't stopped racing since. If this is what having a fated mate feels like, I won't have to worry about anyone taking me out. My damn heart might do the job.

She's only been with us less than a week, and I'm already growing damn infatuated with her, crazy obsessed.

Here I am, watching her sleep again after she dozed off with a belly full of breakfast. Even now, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath, I can't shake this overwhelming urge to protect her. To keep her close. It's foreign to me—I'm not used to feeling this… vulnerable.

When her eyes finally flutter open, she fixes me with that defiant stare I'm starting to look forward to.

"You're not going to give up, are you?" she croaks.

I shake my head, fighting a smile behind my mask. "Come on. You need some fresh air. I'm taking you outdoors."

I retrieve clothes for her from a chest of drawers—one of the Omega's donated some things. When I turn back, she's sitting up straighter, chin lifted in that stubborn way of hers.

"Turn around," she commands, as if she's the Alpha here.

It's amusing enough that I comply, though I can't resist glancing back when I hear her grunt with effort.

"Don't look!" she snaps.

"It's nothing I didn't see the other night," I remind her. "And with all those sounds, you need my help."

"I don't need anything." She comes back at me fast, but I hear the strain in her voice. "And if you peek again, I'll find a way to make that mask a permanent fixture."

"Such violence," I drawl but keep my eyes forward. "And here I thought we were becoming friends."

"Okay, fine. I'm... decent."

I turn, and my breath catches. She's managed to slip into a simple cotton dress that falls past her knees. The pale blue fabric makes her eyes look stormy. Her blonde hair is mussed from sleep, falling in soft waves around her face. Something in my chest tightens.

Without warning, I scoop her up into my arms. She lets out a squeak that she'll probably deny later.

"I can walk!"

"Sure you can, sweetheart. Just like you could dress yourself."

She mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "smug bastard" but settles against my chest.

I carry her through the mansion and out onto the grounds. Other pack members are scattered around, trying to look busy while obviously staring. I feel her tense in my arms.

"They've all been talking about you, you know," I tell her, heading for the pond behind the mansion. "The mysterious woman who crashed onto our island."

Her head snaps up. "They have?"

"You're the most interesting thing that's happened here in years." I settle her carefully on a wooden bench overlooking the water. Palm trees surround us, and the sun turns her hair almost white. The way she lifts her head, closes her eyes, and takes in the warmth has me grinning.

Fuck, I don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't smiled this much in my whole life. Now look at me. I'm a fucking clown.

I grab a partially cut palm tree trunk—heavy son of a bitch but worth it to see her expression when I set it in front of her as a footrest. She lifts her legs to rest them on it.

"My very own throne, complete with palm tree ottoman?" Her lips twitch. "You sure know how to spoil a girl."

"Only the ones who crash-land on my island." I flop down beside her, close enough to feel her warmth. "Speaking of which, what pack in Denmark are you from?"

"Straight to business, then." She hesitates, and I see walls going up behind her eyes. "Why does it matter?"

"You're stuck here. What are you still protecting?"

"Fine." She shrugs, but there's nothing casual about it, her gaze skimming out over the still pond. "You want to know? I'm from Ulv pack, and I fucking hate my father because he sold me to a bastard enemy in Balor pack in a forced marriage." Her voice turns bitter. "I'm nobody. Just an object others sell for profit."

Hate fills me at hearing her story, my hands curling into fists. Fucking bastards, yet I'm not surprised, as I'd witnessed it happening back in Denmark too often. Children were pawns for parents to use as they deemed fit, and I fucking loathed it. I wanted to hurt them, to make them feel abandoned and betrayed.

I study Hel as she stares at a tiny bird landing at the edge of the water, drinking, her fingers twisting over one another.

Reaching down, I gather a handful of smooth pebbles and place them in her lap. She immediately starts fidgeting with them.

"Sorry to hear that," I say quietly. "And your husband?"

"Fuck him." The words explode out of her like she's been holding them in too long. Anger radiates from her so strongly I can almost taste it. I tilt my head, studying her, wondering what that bastard did to make her this furious. Was he the reason she was on that plane? Did he trigger her abilities? Was he on the plane when it crashed? One can hope. The questions burn in my throat, but I hold them back until she's ready.

"You may hate me," I say instead. "But I'm from the Balor Wolves pack."

Her head whips around, studying me. And after a long pause, she just says, "I don't hate you." A pebble she throws splashes into the pond. "How'd you end up here, then?"

I lean back, taking a deep breath as memories darken my thoughts, hatred rising like bile. I'm not ready to show her the ugly truth of my past, why I belong here among the monsters, so I go for a softer option.

"My family. Once I turned eighteen, they offered me the option of either going to this island or dying after my fucker of a father blamed me for every damn thing that went wrong in the village. The man loathed me and beat me daily." I choke on a forced laugh. "So it was easy to select the island if it meant leaving home."

Her lips pinch, and she places her hand on mine, her warmth spreading over me. "That's so fucked up."

"Tell me about it."

Silence.

I find myself enjoying the peace, the heat, the view. Her company. She's easy to be with, which is rare for me. I may lead the pack, but those are different dynamics—fear ensures they follow. It's not my preferred option, but when dealing with monsters who don't know any other way, sometimes it's necessary.

"See? My shit's just as crazy and broken," I admit as she tosses another pebble into the pond.

She reaches down to scratch around her wound, and I remember something from a few nights ago.

"When we were in Wreckage…"

"The ghost town?" She glances at me, her head bending to the side in an adorable look. "Is that what it's called?"

I nod. "I sensed something around you."

She blinks. "Not sure what that means."

"Well," I shift, uncomfortable with sharing this part of myself, but I want her to trust me and not take off again or try to escape. "I can sometimes sense spirits. Wreckage is full of them." I clear my throat, unable to believe I admitted it aloud.

"Wait." Her eyes go wide. "You can see ghosts?" Her shoulders are square, and she's alert and super interested.

"Sometimes," I mutter. "And it's not a big deal."

"Are you kidding me?" She stares at me like I've grown a second head. "Okay, go on. You sensed something on me?"

"Yeah, energy lingering near you."

"Did you see it?"

"Nope, only sensed it."

She studies me for a long pause, her expression unreadable.

"Is that why… after you destroyed the zombie in that basement, I thought I was seeing things, but I swore I spotted white figures behind you in the dark. Even you looked partially ghostlike." She shakes her head. "I figured I'd just hit my head. Or, you know, the normal reaction to being attacked by a zombie."

"Sometimes, I drift into their world. I fucking hate it, as I can see them clearly while our world goes blurry. Doesn't happen often. Thank fuck for that, because it sets me on edge."

She throws her last pebble, watching it sink.

I reach over, resting my hand on her thigh, her warmth leaping up my arm, and my fingers tighten a bit, craving more.

"How's the pain?"

She's gone still under my touch, her breath catching, face flushing pink. I turn to her, enjoying her reaction, the way her pulse jumps in her throat and how her pupils dilate ever so slightly. But I notice wariness in her eyes, too, the way she holds herself back even as her body betrays her attraction. She doesn't trust me. Smart girl.

The truth is, she shouldn't trust me. I'm not the hero. I'm the monster they warn children about, the darkness that swallows the light. And I know better than anyone that there are no happy endings on Nightmare Island.

Yet, part of my brain is confusing me, making me believe it's possible.

I'm clearly in for a fucking rude awakening. Nothing has ever gone well for me.

Watching her flushed face and the rapid rise and fall of her chest, something primal stirs inside me. My hand is still on her thigh. She's trying so hard to appear unaffected, but her body betrays her at every turn.

In my mind, I'm picturing my hand sliding under her cotton dress, spreading her legs, and pushing my fingers between her folds, finding her drenched and ready for me. Fuck, the thought alone has my cock throbbing to life.

"Does my touch make you nervous, sweetheart?" I keep my voice low, knowing the effect it has on her.

She lifts her chin, defiant as ever, and my gaze burns into her. Her beauty is captivating. Those fierce eyes with long lashes, full lips with a hint of pink, the little crease she wears often at the bridge of her nose… I can't get enough of watching her.

A group of pack members walks by, their gazes lingering too long on her. My growl is automatic, territorial, and they hastily look away.

"Look, I appreciate you saving my life," she begins. "Multiple times, actually, which is kind of embarrassing now that I think about it. But I can't… I'm not sure what's happening here, but I'm not ready for anything."

I want to laugh because she thinks she has a choice, and I'm not talking about me making her mine.

"Sweetheart, sometimes none of us have a choice when fate intervenes."

She picks up another pebble I missed, turning it over in her hands.

"Is that why you said earlier that I was your mate?"

A breeze carries the honeyed scent of her across my face, and my wolf stirs restlessly. She smells like rain and lightning, like sex. Like mine.

"I know what I sense in your scent, when I tasted your blood. It's right there, but you'll find out soon enough."

She eyes me as if she's ready to set me on fire. "I'm not ready."

"I doubt anyone is. Are you worried about your husband? I can take care of him if he ever comes here for you."

She half chuckles. "Wow, you just offered to take someone out for me?"

"You seem to be misunderstanding the intense connection between true fated mates. You're under my protection now. Anyone who tries to hurt you will answer to me."

"And what about you?" Her voice is barely a whisper. "Who do you answer to?"

The question hits harder than she probably intended. Images flash through my mind—blood on my hands, screams in the dark, the weight of choices I can never take back.

"I answer to no one."

"Alphas should answer to someone. Even monsters."

"Is that what you think I am? A monster?"

She studies me for a long moment, her gaze tracing the edges of my mask.

"I think you're whatever you needed to become to survive. Just like me."

Her words sink into me like claws, finding truth I'd rather keep buried. Before I can respond, she winces, shifting her injured leg.

"The pain's getting worse." A weak smile takes the sting out of her words. "And I'm really tired of hurting."

"Let me take you back inside." I stand, ready to lift her.

"Wait." She catches my hand, and the simple touch sends electricity through my veins, through my body, and down to my cock. "Just… a few more minutes? It's peaceful here."

"Okay." I settle back beside her, closer this time. She doesn't pull away when our shoulders touch.

" Peaceful isn't a word most people would use to describe Nightmare Island."

"Maybe that says more about my life than your island." She leans into me slightly, probably not even aware she's doing it. "Besides, the view isn't bad… when you ignore the whole prison island vibe. And the zombies. And the ghosts. And the scary masked Alpha."

I burst out laughing at her jab. "Yeah, he's not so bad. When he's not being all mysterious and cryptic about the whole mate thing."

I have no idea how long we've spent outside, but time flew by—and that never happens on the island. The breeze has picked up, and the sun is descending.

"Now?" I stand, scooping her up before she can protest. "Let's head inside."

She wraps her arms around my neck, her side boob against my chest, and it's hard to concentrate on anything but how soft it feels, how desperate I want it in my mouth.

Back in the room, I set her on the bed and brush my fingertips against her cheek. Her skin is soft, and she shivers at my touch. It takes every ounce of control I possess to step back. To not lie on her, spread her legs, and show her she's my damn mate. To eradicate her doubts.

I retreat, and I fucking hate feeling so weak. What has she done to me?

"I'll send Awa to replace the bandages on your leg," I say and close the door behind me, lingering for just a moment to breathe in her scent one last time. My wolf paces restlessly within me, already aching to return to her.

Pushing off the wall, I adjust my mask. I'm two floors down from her room when the sounds of chaos erupt from the courtyard—hooting, shouting, the unmistakable sounds of flesh meeting flesh. Normally, I let these fights play out. My men need outlets for their aggression, especially trapped on this fucking island.

From the balcony, I spot the circle of men below. My blood runs cold when I recognize Knut, one of my seconds, in full berserker mode. His normally controlled movements are wild, savage, as he tears into—I squint—some massive, rather hairy bastard I don't recognize. Who the hell?

My jaw clenches when I spot Axel, my other second-in-command, lounging against a palm tree, arms crossed, watching the scene like it's today's entertainment.

I don't recognize the huge beast down there, which means we have an intruder from Sten's territory. And Axel, who's supposed to be working with Knut as a team, is doing jack shit to end this and not watch it as a sport.

Fury burns through my veins. I vault over the balcony railing, dropping the full story to land in a crouch on the packed dirt. Men scramble back as I approach them.

As I push through the circle, my wolf surges forward. It takes me two seconds to reach them, then another half second to grab the intruder by the throat and slam him to the ground. My boot replaces my hand on his neck, and he wheezes, clawing at my ankle.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I snarl at Axel, not bothering to hide my disgust. "You think this is a show? You and Knut work as a damn team, and you're sitting there on the fucking sidelines?"

Axel's face darkens with anger. "He had it under control!"

"That's not the damn point. It's that we have this intruder, and they are taken out fast, not allowed to lay punches into one of our own!"

"Understood," Axel growls under his breath but lowers his gaze and head to me, a show of respect.

"Get out!" I roar at the crowd. They scatter, leaving just the four of us. "Axel, tie this piece of shit up."

I turn to Knut, who's wiping his bloody mouth with the back of his hand, the deep gash across his cheekbone dripping with red.

"Who the fuck is this?"

Knut spits blood onto the ground, his wolf eyes still gleaming with berserker gold.

"Caught him scaling the rock wall on the north side. Had to chase him half a mile before I could pin him down."

"Fuck." The word comes out in a growl. I increase the pressure on the intruder's neck, watching him struggle, ignoring his weak strikes at my leg.

Sten is making his move, sending his pawns to probe our defenses and find our soft spots. I know how that sadistic bastard thinks—this is just the beginning.

He's coming for my Hel.

"Bring him." I lift my boot, letting Axel haul the gasping man to his feet. "We're going to have a little chat about how he got past our guards. And then…" I bare my teeth. "We're going to find out exactly what Sten is planning."

The intruder snarls, tightening against Alex, but I let him handle it. It's the least he can fucking do. I need to figure out how to protect a certain stubborn she-wolf when we have nowhere to run to hide her.