"Spin, spin, spin like a top, watch the blood spill, splatter, drop! Pretty eyes, rolling back, souls escaping through the crack!"
"Thank the Goddess," Lucas mutters as I finish pushing mana into the last rune of the ward Grimoire taught me about ten minutes ago.
The ghost’s sing-song voice cuts off mid-verse, like someone muted a particularly disturbing children’s show. The sudden silence washes over us like cool water, and I breathe a deep sigh.
"Better?" Grimoire asks, his voice smug as he hangs upside down in midair.
Now he’s the only spirit in here.
I sink onto the couch, my shoulder brushing against my mate’s with comfortable, informal warmth. "So much better. You’re amazing."
The book puffs his chest out. "I know."
Selene snorts from her position as a warmer across our mate’s feet.
Lucas wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer. I breathe in his scent like it’s the oxygen my lungs crave. My semi-frayed nerves settle in the aftermath of the ghost’s obnoxious singing.
I’ve been listening to it all day; it’s the worst.
"We should put this all over the compound," he sighs, leaning his head back as he closes his eyes.
"The ward requires refreshing every twelve hours," Grimoire explains, his expression suddenly serious. "And it only has approximately a twenty-foot radius of effectiveness. It would be inefficient to ward the entire compound."
I laugh, though it sounds more like a tired sigh. "I wish we could, though."
From outside, the ghost’s voice floats in, muffled but still audible through the window. "Buried deep where no one sees, secrets resting—never free..."
My mate winces. "I feel a little bad for the guards stuck out there."
"Me too."
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, Lucas’s fingers tracing absent patterns on my shoulder. It’s these stolen moments that feel surreal—pockets of normalcy in a world gone mad. His thumb brushes against the nape of my neck, and I lean further into his touch.
Sometimes I wish I could just live in his pocket, so we’re never apart.
"I think the ghost is connected to Ivy somehow," I say finally. "It’s mentioned her twice in a roundabout kind of way. And it wants to see the dream-eater. It’s all strange."
Lucas makes a thoughtful sound, his eyes still closed. "You should tell Clayton. He wants to know everything about Ivy."
"Already did." I smile, reaching up to poke Lucas’ cheek. "When I visited him earlier."
His lips quirk up. "Of course you did."
The pride in his voice makes my chest feel all gooey and full of sweet syrup.
"You’re incredible, you know that?" he says, finally opening his golden eyes to stare at me. "You have such a big heart. And you keep going, no matter how hard the situation is."
Yes, Grimoire echoes, and I realize he’s disappeared, himself. He must have returned to his book form. It sounds very strange.
Yes. Very strange.
His eyes are distant, reliving the moment, and I reach up to cover his fingers with mine. Shaking off his reminiscence, he looks at me again with a faint frown. "Like something decided they were needed elsewhere."
I shudder, and Selene makes a faint sound of disgust in the back of my head. Without thinking, I lean forward to pat her head, scratching behind her ears.
They must be found. Burned and brought back to the Goddess’s embrace.
"I know," I murmur. "We will."
We’ve never forgotten the horror of that night, trying to honor our fallen... only for a vampire to steal them all away. To mess with the dead is one of the worst sacrileges in any history—human or wolf.
I just wish I knew exactly what they were doing.
I’m sorry I can’t help, Grimoire says quietly. This bears the mark of reanimation, but the methodology and objective are unclear. And the choice of a sod house? I have no viable hypothesis to offer you.
Lucas’ hand tightens on my shoulder before he lifts my chin, silently asking me to look at him.
"Whatever’s coming," he says firmly, with the faintest smile curving his lips, "we stand together. No secrets. No silences. We can face it."
Through everything we’ve faced, every obstacle, we’ve grown stronger together. My eyes meet his steadily. "And I’ll do everything in my power to keep us safe," I promise. "All of us."
He presses his forehead to mine, and for a moment, we breathe the same air, share the same resolve. Outside the window, I catch a glimpse of the ghost, twirling in the snow, lips moving in some new, twisted rhyme.
But when it thinks no one is watching, it stops. Goes unnaturally still. And stares directly at our window with empty, knowing eyes.

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