BONUS SCENE 2

Hel

Two Weeks After Ghost Took Over Nightmare Island

"Are you sure?" Ghost asks for the dozenth time, and I roll my eyes just as many. "I've lived here for years, spent a lot of time in Wreckage, and not once have I seen a locked basement door in that town."

"Yes, I'm certain," I insist. "I saw it right before I fell into that pit with the zombie." The memory alone makes my skin crawl, but I push it aside.

"Okay, then we're going to check it out." His jawline clenches in that way that makes my heart skip. We're strolling through the woods behind the mansion, along a path that looks completely different now that it's sunny and wolf-free. The memories of that terrifying night I ran through here alone still linger, but I can laugh about them now. It's wild how things turned out—with me now living on Nightmare Island with my fated mate after he killed Sten. The place feels so much more peaceful without that crazy bastard around. Though seeing the wolf shifters from Sten's old pack trying to integrate with Ghost's is like watching a perpetual fighting match. Ghost insists it's normal behavior for them, but I have my doubts.

Ghost's thumb strokes the back of my hand as we walk, and I catch him studying me with that intense stare of his. "So why are you so curious about this basement?"

I shoot him an incredulous look. "Are you kidding me? It's a mysterious locked basement in a ghost town. You're telling me you're not dying to know what's inside?"

"Have you heard of Pandora's Box?" His voice is serious, but I catch that hint of amusement in the grin curling on his lips.

I chuckle and bump into him on purpose, loving how solid he feels against me. "Aww, is the big bad Alpha scared of a little basement?"

"I'm appropriately cautious of anything that's managed to stay locked up this long," he growls playfully, tugging me closer. "Someone has to look after you."

I love the way his eyes darken behind his mask.

The ruins of Wreckage emerge through the trees, looking even more decrepit in the daylight. The old road, now more stone than pavement, cuts through the center of town like a jagged scar. Remnants of old buildings gape at us with broken windows, and vines crawl up everything. I lead Ghost toward the mansion, past the massive pit I fell into that night. I peer inside, and a yellowed bone catches my eye—all that's left of my zombie friend. Lovely.

"And you're not afraid of encountering another zombies?" Ghost asks, his hand tightening on mine.

"Well, that's why I brought you along, right? My own personal zombie slayer." I flutter my eyelashes at him dramatically.

He just chuckles but doesn't deny it.

We round the side of the mansion, the same one that had given me major creeps when Ghost was being an ass and trying to scare me. But all thoughts of that night vanish when I spot the metal door set into the ground right next to the house, leading down into what has to be the basement.

"There it is!" I call out, picking up my pace. But Ghost stops, his brow furrowing.

"Where? I don't see anything."

"Oh my gods, it's literally right there!" I point directly at the door, but he's still staring around like I'm speaking another language. Is he doing this on purpose?

He huffs.

"Do you even know what an underground door looks like?" I tease, but there's something unsettling about the way he's looking—or not looking—at it.

"I seriously don't see anything, only grass, stones, and a broken house," he says, and the playfulness is gone from his voice.

I blink in confusion, then walk over to the door and tap it with my boot. The metallic clang echoes slightly. Ghost's eyes follow the sound, and he reaches down to touch where my foot just was. The moment his fingers make contact, he jerks back like he's been shocked, eyes going wide.

"Fuck me," he breathes. "I swear to Odin, that was not there moments earlier. It just appeared."

"Then how come I saw it the whole time?"

"Fuck if I know, but something's wrong here." His eyes narrow.

"Okay, so you don't want to check it out, then?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

A slow grin spreads across his face. "Fuck, I do now! A magic invisible door that only you can see? That has me curious. Especially the part where it seems to have been hidden from me."

I'm giggling as I watch him wrestle with the lock. He finally grabs a piece of metal debris, shoves it through the lock loop, and puts his supernatural strength to good use. The lock snaps with a satisfying crack.

My stomach does an excited flip as he pulls open the door, revealing a set of stairs descending into darkness. The musty smell that wafts up makes my nose wrinkle. Before I can take a step, Ghost's arm blocks my path.

"Stay here. I'll check it first."

For once, I don't argue. The zombie memories are a little too fresh to play hero. I wait at the top of the stairs, straining to see or hear anything in the darkness below. No sounds of fighting or cursing come up, which I take as a good sign. Finally, Ghost's head appears around the corner.

"All clear, sweetheart. Come on down."

I practically race down the stairs. The basement is about the size of our bedroom back in the mansion, with dusty shelves lining the walls. Most are empty, covered in years of grime, but Ghost is standing by one particular shelf, completely still. When I join him, I see why.

He's holding a wooden box about the size of his head, maybe a bit larger, and carefully rubbing decades of dust off the top with his thumb.

"What is that?"

"Treasure," he suggests with a half smile, but we're both transfixed by this box that somehow hasn't decayed like everything else down here. With another display of strength, he snaps off the small lock and lifts the lid.

I lean in close, curiosity burning, and we both stare at what's inside:a deep, blood-red stone, its surface covered in tiny craters that make it look almost organic. It sits nestled in what might have once been velvet, now faded and worn.

"What the hell?" I whisper.

"I feel an electric current coming off it." Before I can protest, he's already reaching for it.

"Should you touch it, then?"

"How else are we going to find out what it is?" His logic makes a certain amount of sense, but still…

His fingers wrap around the stone, and there's an instant spark against his arm. He flinches back, but I'm too busy staring at his inner arm, where his mark—the one that's kept him prisoner on this island—is rapidly fading away.

"Oh my gods!" I gasp. "Your mark, it's gone!"

He stares at his arm incredulously, running his fingers over the now-unmarked skin. Without a word, he bolts for the stairs, and I chase after him.

"What is it?"

He bursts into the sunlight, holding his arm up. "Is this real? Are you fucking kidding me? This whole time, there's been a solution to the mark right under my nose?"

"Maybe," I say slowly, my mind racing to keep up. "Maybe this is what keeps you locked to the island, not just the mark itself…"

He turns to stare at the open basement door. "And maybe why I couldn't see the door but you had. It was hidden from me, from all of us with marks, by some kind of cloaking magic. Until you made me really look and see it."

"You can leave the island with me," I blurt out. He's free. Suddenly, I'm in his arms, his mask pushed back, and he's kissing me with a passion that makes me blush, his tongue in my mouth, reminding me how easily he brings me to his mercy. When we finally break apart, I'm grinning like an idiot.

"We can go see your brother," he says, excitement making him sound younger. "Once you work out how to lure a boat to us with the weather…"

I laugh at the absurdity of it all, but I'm going to find a way to finally go to him, the one person in my family who protected me as much as he could against my father.

"I'm dying to see my brother, Ragnar," I murmur. "You'd get along well with him."

His grin widens and he pulls me close again, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "We will. I promise you."

A thought occurs to me. "What about the others on the island? And their marks? They'll want them removed, too."

His face darkens. "You know most are dangerous assholes here for a good reason?" He shakes his head. "I don't think it'd be wise to tell them about this… at least not for a… long time. The last thing we want is to draw attention from those in Denmark who will hunt us all down if they think everyone escaped. First, we find a way off the island. Then, we deal with everything else."

"For now, time to close this up." His voice drops lower. "You're the only one who gets to see this side of me, you know that? The one who makes me want to be better, even if I'm still an asshole."

I smile up at him. "You're a sweetheart to me."

"Damn right I am." He pulls his mask back down, but not before I catch his grin. "Now let's get this locked up before anyone else stumbles on our little secret."

Ghost wrestles with the broken lock, trying to bend it back into something usable, but after a few frustrated attempts, he gives up. "Wait here," he growls, disappearing into the basement once more. He returns moments later with lengths of dusty rope, meticulously weaving them through the door handles and securing them with knots.

"No one else should be able to see the door while they have their mark," I say, studying him as he works.

"I may bring Knut for a walk here one day and see if he notices it or not… just to be sure," he adds, giving one final tug. I nod.

"So… aren't you now glad I'm a curious cat?"

His laugh is low and dangerous, and before I can blink, he has me pressed against a tree, his cheek brushing my mine. "You're my cat," he growls, and his hand travels down between us. I gasp as it slips under my dress. "Maybe we should play a bit with your sweet pussy?"

I laugh and push away from him, darting between the trees. His growl as he pursues me sends shivers down my spine—the ridiculously good kind.

It's funny how life works out sometimes. I found him while running for my life, terrified and alone in these same woods. Now I run because I love what he'll do to me when he catches me. And he always catches me. That's the best part.