Page 59 of Nightmare Island

“Here’s the thing,” Sten starts, then pauses like he’s savoring what comes next. “How well do you think you know Ghost?”

I stare at him, trying for defiant but probably just looking scared.

“I’m guessing not much, then.” He runs a finger down my cheek, and I try to bite it. He jerks back with a laugh. “Did he tell you that he came to the island because he killed his father in cold blood?”

I clench my teeth, remembering Ghost’s words about his father’s cruelty. “We all have family members we want to murder. Good on him for doing it.”

“But did he tell you that afterward, he was on such a savage rampage that he couldn’t be stopped?” Sten’s voice drops lower. “Murdered his mother and a neighboring whole family before he was taken down? The lunatic has something broken up here.” He taps the side of his head. “So, how long before he goes feral on you? Or someone else close? He’s a fucking time bomb.”

My stomach twists. Ghost’s control issues, his anger... I can understand his father, but the others? His mother? I swallow hard, trying to push down the doubt creeping in.

“Yeah, you see it now.”

“Last I looked,” I manage, “you’re here for some horrendous crime too.”

“I’m not saying I’m innocent. Fuck, I’m not, and I own who I am. But I don’t think Ghost is being honest with you.” He shrugs, then studies the wolves around them like he might order them to attack me.

The rain is coming down harder now, plastering my hair to my face. Lightning flickers in the clouds, and the air feels heavy, charged with something more than just electricity. My skin prickles with it, and my wolf stirs restlessly inside me.

“Look,” I say. “There are other ways of dealing with differences between us. It doesn’t always have to resort to killings and torture. I mean, have you tried therapy? Managing your anger? A good massage?”

Sten laughs, and several wolves nearby make chuffing sounds that I’m certain are their version of laughter. The rain runs down their fur in rivulets, but they stand firm, watching me with hungry eyes.

“Have you forgotten where you are, Omega?” His eyes narrow. “Perhaps you have because I noticed you don’t have the prison mark on your arm, so that means you aren’t meant to be here. Tell me, were you on that jet that went overhead, smoking up the night I found you? Well, you’ve just had the worst luck of your day landing on this island, haven’t you?”

“You know nothing about me.”

“Oh, I know enough to understand that you have powers I need to finally take back the whole island.”

I force out a laugh that sounds brittle even to my own ears. “Yeah, good luck with that. My powers come with afuck youguarantee.”

His smile darkens, almost evil in a way that makes my stomach clench and goose bumps race down my arms.

“Enough.” He stands silent for a moment, eyes closed, murmuring something under his breath. When they snap open, they’re completely white.

I flinch back, and even a few wolves retreat, as if sensing something very wrong with their Alpha.

The rain is sheeting down now, driven sideways by the wind that’s picking up strength with every passing second. Lightning splits the sky every few seconds, thunder following so quickly it feels like the world is being torn apart.

Please strike him down again, but finish the job this time.

He pulls out his blade again and slashes his palm. I stiffen, but he doesn’t even seem to notice the wound. He tucks the dirty blade away and gets in my face. I try to pull back, but there’s nowhere to go.

“Okay, look, you don’t?—”

“Oh, but I have to.” Those white eyes are like bottomless pits. “Are you ready to meet your roommate?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I control spirits, stupid Omega, and imagine what I can do to you if I force one into you and control the weather. I’ve been practicing and have mastered it.”

I’m shaking now, rain running down my face like tears. Or maybe they are tears. I can’t tell anymore. My wolf is pacing inside me, agitated, afraid. We both know something terrible is about to happen, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

I glance up at the sky. Come on, I’m in a dire situation. Do something!

Sten lets out a roaring sound that makes me shudder, and with his bloodied hand, he’s scooping at the air like he’s trying to catch something invisible. In a heartbeat, his hand fists as if he’s grabbed something, though I see nothing, and he slaps his bloody, now open palm hard against my cut.

I scream, more from shock than pain, trying to squirm away, to kick him, but he might as well be made of stone. And then…

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