Chapter 9
ADA
I snuggled lower in Greyson’s bed, his silk sheets and familiar scent enveloping me in memory, taking me back to the first time I had snuck into his bed.
Not long after my sixteenth birthday, I’d had a particularly bad dream.
I had tried to tell my mother that I hadn't had proper sleep for months, but she palmed me off like she always did. I was a fool to think she’d care.
If it didn’t include money, alcohol or gossip, she wasn’t interested. I was on my own.
Troubled and distressed, I shook myself out of bed, retracing the hollow hallways as a midnight chill sank deeper in my bones.
For one night—one fucking night—I sought comfort, simple temporary relief against the demon that was relentless in pursuing me.
Which unintentionally led me to Greyson’s door.
Over the years, we had come to a silent understanding. Despite his cold exterior, we shared a common experience. One of rejection, neglect and physical pain from those who were ingrained to love us the most.
However, our parents only knew how to destroy, manipulate or abuse any bond that wasn’t directly under their control—as was the world in which we existed. So, we actively stayed apart.
To the outside world, we were begrudging stepsiblings who barely tolerated each other’s presence.
Yet, in reality, Greyson and I had made an unintentional connection, forged from the broken pieces of our innocent souls.
And although we weren’t close in the traditional sense, I had to admit that he had become somewhat of a safe place.
Hence why I slipped into his bedroom, quickly closing the door behind me before I changed my mind. I could just make out his sleeping form, my eyes tracing his silhouette in the middle of his gigantic bed.
I had never entered his space or sought him out on purpose before. Our previous interactions were always subtle or accidental, veiled in secrets and chance encounters.
But I was desperate for a single ounce of solace. I didn’t care if I appeared weak. At that moment, that’s exactly what I was.
After a few seconds of hesitation, I finally built up the courage to dive beneath his covers, snuggling into his side, seeking a tiny modicum of warmth.
Greyson startled awake. In one cohesive movement, he flipped on top of me, his hands barring tightly around my throat until he registered who was beneath him.
He jolted away, releasing his hold. “What the fuck, Ada?!”
Shit, I didn’t think this through. Greyson wore trunks and nothing else, his bare skin blazing and muscles tense. But there was something else—something sinister lurking beneath that I didn’t notice before.
My fingers sketched what had been unveiled, his chest and torso covered in fresh wounds, swollen and aggravated.
“You’re hurt,” I said, my tone laced with underlying pain in reaction to his own. He’s a mess.
Greyson caught my roaming hand in his, sending me a severe stare. “What are you doing in my bed?”
No, he can’t send me away. I whimpered in panic. “Please don’t make me leave. Please, Greyson…”
I let the request settle between us. He knew how much that cost me. The word please was hardly used in each other’s presence, if ever at all.
He faltered for a moment, his perusal harsh, and for the first time in forever, I let him see it all.
Read my weakness, exert your power, just don’t leave me alone.
After a beat, he flopped back down on the bed, his upper arm rising to cover his eyes. “Just for tonight.”
I slumped down beside him, relief sweeping through me as I tried and failed to inconspicuously shift nearer.
“Too close,” he snapped.
“Sorry.” Not sorry. I ignored his bitchy mood and pressed further until his arm grazed mine.
“You’re breathing too loud.”
“I guess I’ll stop breathing then,” I snarked back.
He had already given me permission to stay, so I didn’t understand why he had an attitude. Time seemed to slow as the atmosphere grew heavy, lulling me into a cocoon of security.
And just as I thought he’d fallen asleep, his voice caught me off guard. “What happened?”
His question, murmured in the dark, made me unravel. I trusted him. Only this once.
“I had the same nightmare…like it's on repeat since my sixteenth birthday.”
“Tell me.”
I gulped, then turned on my side towards him, my gaze tracing the outline of his frame as he stared up at the ceiling.
“There’s a man…from another time,” I said, quiet and cautious. “I-I only get small snapshots. He’s not fully formed. But, Grey…I can feel him watching me—always watching.”
Greyson shifted sideways, mirroring my position, his face hovering in front of mine.
“It’s only a dream. No one’s going to hurt you. Go to sleep, Ada.”
“I just told you. I can’t.”
“I’m here now,” he said, so straightforward. As if that was the answer to all my troubles.
I closed my eyes, trying to force myself to relax. And, surprisingly, after a few minutes, my body began to unfurl, knowing I had someone watching over me. Even if only for a moment.
Relief weighed down my thoughts. Eventually, unconsciousness threatened to take me under when I heard a whisper—one so quiet I didn’t even know if it was real.
“Why did you come to me, little rabbit? I’m not the knight you think I am. I’m a monster…”
The words weren’t meant for me. They were private and self-deprecating, his mouth spouting the belief from the depths of his very soul. My mind immediately rejected the narrative.
Just before sleep could fully claim me, I said the truest statement I’d ever voiced in my life. “My monster.”
“I’m disappointed in you, Ada, darling. I thought you would save your virginity…wait for me.”
I remained in Greyson’s bed, wrapped in his duvet, staring at the bright red brooch neatly secured to the spirit’s tailcoat jacket.
“Why would I wait for you? You’re not real,” I admonished, repeating the mantra I had told myself over and over.
“I’m as real as you want me to be, darling.”
“I belong to him. In every way that matters.”
“Yes, but does he belong to you?” my ghost asked, his tone mocking.
I held my breath as his pale, translucent fingers swept a stray hair off my face, his touch cool, yet scathing.
“My poor, lost girl. Go and find this man who you have claimed as your own. Go searching for the monster who has stolen all…And when you see what there is to see, I will be waiting. Here, in your dreams.”
“Why?” Why do you want to ruin me? Why can’t you let me be happy? Why do you have to haunt me?
Despite those unspoken questions never being voiced into existence, he sensed them and answered each one with a single statement, giving me the vow he always did.
“You are mine in every lifetime.”
I woke up with a start. Hours had passed since Greyson had left me in his bedroom, requesting I be naked and ready for him when he returned with my second eighteenth birthday gift.
I waited and waited—until slumber took me to where my wraith appeared. His words lingered, swirling through my mind until my body moved on autopilot.
I slipped on one of Greyson’s shirts that came down to my mid-thigh, and ventured into the house barefoot.
It was as if an invisible string was pulling me along, to follow a map to my own demise.
Yet, I couldn’t stop, couldn’t backtrack, obsessively focused on following the innate compulsion to the end.
I came to a standstill outside my stepfather’s office, the door slightly ajar, a dull glow of lamplight shining through.
When I stepped up to the one-inch gap to peep inside, my world combusted into utter destruction.
Greyson sat in an ostentatious armchair, legs spread wide as one hand wrapped around a tumbler of dark liquor, the other buried in the hair of Annika Sullivan, who was on her knees, sucking his cock. The same cock that had been inside me hours before.
Bile rose to the back of my throat as I watched him shove her down further until she choked.
“Lick my dick clean, you desperate whore,” he spat, his grey eyes stormy and transfixed.
I ran, barely making it to my en suite bathroom before vomiting everywhere.
Two things were true.
I was in love with Greyson Carmichael. I hated Greyson Carmichael.
It only took me ten minutes to chuck together some clothes and collect my most valuable belongings. I didn’t have to take much since I’d be buying everything brand new.
It was then, in the early hours of the morning following my birthday celebration, that I walked out of the Carmichael Mansion, my mini suitcase rolling behind.
I didn’t spare a second thought to my sudden absence, knowing I could easily convince my alcoholic mother that it was her idea to send me off to boarding school early.
Up until that point, I’d had two options for university, and there was no dispute about which I was going to accept. I had been more than ready to join Greyson at Bartholomew.
But in that thirty-second window of heartbreak and betrayal, he had smashed any future plans to smithereens. My focus pivoted inward, on my own survival and well-being.
I was eighteen years old, leaving the shelter of my home and moving across the country to escape my lost love, who happened to be my stepbrother.
Greyson may have taken my virginity, but I was loath to give him anything else. Little did I know that it would be three years until I saw him again, and even that would be too soon.