I know so little about him—only that he reveres the Moon Goddess. A sacred mate bond isn’t something he would just discard without reason.
I’ve been so caught up in my own hurt, convinced he simply didn’t want me. But maybe, like Silas, he believes he can’t. The difference is, I understood where Silas was coming from.
Ghost is a mystery. And he’s going to run away again, as soon as he gets his chance, I just know it.
So I stall.
I veer toward the cafeteria instead, deliberately taking the long way back from the hospital. Hilde is outside with Ivy, a girl who once helped me chop a pile of turnips, scrubbing giant pots,dumping the soapy water into the weeds. Hilde glances between us curiously.
“This is—” I begin, about to say “Ghost,” but he steps forward, cutting me off.
“Nice to meet you,” he tells her flatly.
Hilde doesn’t bother smiling. She’s like that, no falsehoods, which is one of the things I like most about her. “Seen you around,” she says. “You from Kendrick’s clan?”
He nods politely. She narrows her eyes.
I saw this playing out differently. I thought he'd warm up, that the community, that Silent Peak itself would burrow into his skin, the way it did with me. I should have known better.
But he just stands there, holding himself back.
“Anyway, we should be going,” I say awkwardly as I steer Ghost away from the woman who’s become like a mother to me. I wanted her to like him. I wanted him to open up, to be less cold and standoffish.
It’s useless trying to force this or manipulate him into wanting this place as much as I do.
Instead of continuing down the road, I walk toward the enforcer’s gym. He follows, huffing under his breath.
“This isn’t going to work, you know.”
“What do you mean?” I ask innocently, feigning ease, though my heart still stings from his third, fourth, fifth rejection.
A smirk crosses his face before he seems to make up his mind about something. He reaches for my hand, and I fight the flutter in my chest. He tugs me toward the picnic table, sitting a few dozen yards from the gym.
God, I love this place. If I ever live anywhere without this many picnic tables at the ready, it’ll never be home.
“I mean,” he says, climbing to sit on the tabletop instead of the seats, pulling me alongside him. “You’re stalling. We may not be bonded, but you aren’t hard to read, Mona.”
That should offend me, but then I figure that’s less I have to explain. So, I shrug. “You keep running from me. How else am I supposed to get to know you?”
“Is that what this is about?”
“I thought I was easy to read. Don’t you know?”
He laughs. “I’m not trying to be cryptic, Mona. I’m just…” his voice trails off, and then he gets lost in thought.
Nervously, I reach out and take hold of his hand again, which he let go of when we sat down. I thread my fingers through his, and miraculously, he lets me.
“Back at the cabin in Canada. You said you have no intention of ever taking a mate. Why?”
He tries to pull away. I don’t let him. Even Beep shares her strength with me, clutching him tighter. I’m sure he could pull away if he tried. That he lets me, that he softens and squeezes my hand back, is everything.
No, not everything. But right now, it’s enough.
“It’s a long story, Mona.”
“Don’t give me that. Don’t tell me it’s a long story, or that it’s for my own good, or that I’m better off without you, or whatever bullshit you have prepared in your mind. Tell me, honestly, why not?”
Ghost stares into my eyes. They fucking glow. Golden amber, so bright I feel like they are penetrating my soul. Burning it. Branding it.
