Page 72 of Nightmare Island

Ghost takes my hand, leading me out of the room. His fingers intertwine with mine, warm and callused. “This room is too small for both of us.”

“Are you moving me out of your bedroom?” I tease, watching his face. Without the mask, I can see every micro-expression, the way his good eye darkens at my words. “Now that you’re the big Alpha, you need your space?”

He drags me close, so fast I stumble against his chest. His arm locks around my waist like an iron band. “The opposite, little flame. I can’t get enough of you and need to keep you all for myself.” His lips brush my ear. “But we need change. Just like the pack has evolved, with new huts and better facilities, we need more too.”

“I’m curious to see what you have for us, then.”

His lips curl at the corners, that dangerous smile that makes my knees weak. We stroll down the corridor, his hand still claiming mine. He leads me toward the fourth floor—a mysterious level I’ve only recently discovered exists on one side of the mansion, watching Ghost and others disappear up there the last few weeks while I’ve been firmly prohibited from exploring. Until now, apparently.

At the base of the steps, he pauses. “Wait here for two seconds and I’ll come get you.” His excitement is adorable, though I’d never tell him that. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Because there are so many other places I could go on this island?” I quip.

He growls playfully, nipping at my lower lip before darting up the stairs.

Moments later, Eve strolls past, bowing her head respectfully. The gesture toward me still throws me off. The world really has gone mad.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, smiling. “Any changes? Cravings? Mood swings?”

I groan. “Why is everyone so obsessed with my heat lately? The pack’s acting like they’re taking bets on when I’ll pop out a pup.”

Eve laughs, the sound lighter than I remember from when I first arrived. “You know that’s what happens during heat, right? Especially a mating heat with a powerful Alpha.”

“I’m choosing ignorance,” I huff. “Because thinking about being a mother really terrifies me.”

“You’re not alone,” she answers softly, smiling freely. More than I’ve seen since the whole debacle with Axel’s betrayal. I’ve forgiven her for her part in almost getting me killed—fear makes people do desperate things. But forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. I know exactly who I’m dealing with.

She heads off with a skip in her step, but I’m not fooled. We’re still on Nightmare Island, still surrounded by dangerous Alphas who’d rip out throats. But at least I have the most dangerous one of all on my side.

Ghost returns, taking my hand and pressing his lips to my knuckles. “Are you ready?”

“Always, my dangerous ghost.”

His answering smile makes my heart skip. He leads me up the stairs, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s been plotting these past weeks. Whatever it is, that gleam in his eye tells me my life is about to change again.

Then again, that’s what I signed up for when I let myself fall for the Alpha of Nightmare Island. Boring was never in the cards.

Ghost guides me up the final steps, and my heart pounds with anticipation. We reach a wooden door, carved with intricate wolf designs.

He opens the door and I step inside, then my world stops.

The room is enormous, easily three times the size of our current bedroom. But it’s not the size that steals my breath; it’s the massive four-post bed that dominates one wall, the dark wood carved with running wolves. The posts spiral upward, treelike, their branches reaching toward a ceiling that takes mybreath away. It’s painted with constellations, so realistic I feel like I could fall up into that star-filled sky.

“Ghost,” I whisper, but he squeezes my hand, urging me to look more.

The walls are covered in painted murals—scenes from the island. Wolves race along the shoreline, their forms caught mid-stride. The mountains rise majestically, and… “Is that us?” I point to two wolves, one white, one black, standing on the cliff where we first met.

“Awa painted them,” he says proudly. “She has many hidden talents.”

A walk-in wardrobe is through one door, already filled with clothes. An ancient couch, reupholstered in rich fabric, sits near towering bookshelves that reach almost to the ceiling.

“Are those…” I move closer to the shelves, running my fingers along leather spines. Books. Dozens of them, hundreds maybe. Most are old, all precious on an island I had no idea books existed.

“I had them brought in from the old library in Wreckage,” Ghost explains.

Around the bed, blankets in perfect disarray, surrounding bowls on a nearby table overflowing with island fruits, fresh-baked bread, and so many more baked goodies. The scents make my mouth water—coconut cakes, honey bread, even those little pastries Mara makes that I love so much.

“You did this for me?” My voice cracks, tears welling up. “All of this?”

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