Page 41 of Nightmare Island

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 ensuresthey 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, fulllips 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.

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