Chapter 23 Mona
The walk back to the cabin feels like I’m caught in quicksand. The moments with Ghost are so few, I can feel him slipping away, even as he ambles beside me. Andrea’s words keep replaying in my mind while Ghost’s silence stretches between us. I keep stealing glances at him. I can’t read him.
I know so little about him—only that he reveres the Moon Goddess. A sacred mate bond isn’t something he would just discard without reason.
I’ve been so caught up in my own hurt, convinced he simply didn’t want me. But maybe, like Silas, he believes he can’t. The difference is, I understood where Silas was coming from.
Ghost is a mystery. And he’s going to run away again, as soon as he gets his chance, I just know it.
So I stall.
I veer toward the cafeteria instead, deliberately taking the long way back from the hospital. Hilde is outside with Ivy, a girl who once helped me chop a pile of turnips, scrubbing giant pots, dumping the soapy water into the weeds. Hilde glances between us curiously.
“This is—” I begin, about to say “Ghost,” but he steps forward, cutting me off.
“Nice to meet you,” he tells her flatly.
Hilde doesn’t bother smiling. She’s like that, no falsehoods, which is one of the things I like most about her. “Seen you around,” she says. “You from Kendrick’s clan?”
He nods politely. She narrows her eyes.
I saw this playing out differently. I thought he'd warm up, that the community, that Silent Peak itself would burrow into his skin, the way it did with me. I should have known better.
But he just stands there, holding himself back.
“Anyway, we should be going,” I say awkwardly as I steer Ghost away from the woman who’s become like a mother to me. I wanted her to like him. I wanted him to open up, to be less cold and standoffish.
It’s useless trying to force this or manipulate him into wanting this place as much as I do.
Instead of continuing down the road, I walk toward the enforcer’s gym. He follows, huffing under his breath.
“This isn’t going to work, you know.”
“What do you mean?” I ask innocently, feigning ease, though my heart still stings from his third, fourth, fifth rejection.
A smirk crosses his face before he seems to make up his mind about something. He reaches for my hand, and I fight the flutter in my chest. He tugs me toward the picnic table, sitting a few dozen yards from the gym.
God, I love this place. If I ever live anywhere without this many picnic tables at the ready, it’ll never be home.
“I mean,” he says, climbing to sit on the tabletop instead of the seats, pulling me alongside him. “You’re stalling. We may not be bonded, but you aren’t hard to read, Mona.”
That should offend me, but then I figure that’s less I have to explain. So, I shrug. “You keep running from me. How else am I supposed to get to know you?”
“Is that what this is about?”
“I thought I was easy to read. Don’t you know?”
He laughs. “I’m not trying to be cryptic, Mona. I’m just…” his voice trails off, and then he gets lost in thought.
Nervously, I reach out and take hold of his hand again, which he let go of when we sat down. I thread my fingers through his, and miraculously, he lets me.
“Back at the cabin in Canada. You said you have no intention of ever taking a mate. Why?”
He tries to pull away. I don’t let him. Even Beep shares her strength with me, clutching him tighter. I’m sure he could pull away if he tried. That he lets me, that he softens and squeezes my hand back, is everything.
No, not everything. But right now, it’s enough.
“It’s a long story, Mona.”
“Don’t give me that. Don’t tell me it’s a long story, or that it’s for my own good, or that I’m better off without you, or whatever bullshit you have prepared in your mind. Tell me, honestly, why not?”
Ghost stares into my eyes. They fucking glow. Golden amber, so bright I feel like they are penetrating my soul. Burning it. Branding it.
And then he changes the fucking subject. “Tell me more about the dream from last night.”
So, I do. I tell him about my sense of urgency. About how, before when I dreamed, the entire experience felt more jarring, but this time, I understood more quickly what was going on. That it gave me time to look around more.
“Do you think I could learn to control them?” I ask.
Ghost’s gaze sweeps across the field—the same one where my mate put me through that crazy obstacle course. Sitting here with him feels strange, like an overlay of two different timelines. His presence is too new here, too unfamiliar.
I wonder if it’s wise to start collecting memories with him here at Silent Peak. Later, I’ll walk past this gym and think, that’s where Ghost gave me his undivided attention.
The Ghost, Kendrick’s assassin. For a few minutes, he was mine.
But there’s no impatience in him now. He asks me about my dreams. Not what I see, but how I feel in them.
He describes his magic, sharing information with me I doubt he’s shared with many others.
He explains what it’s like to see the world, and the threads of magic in all of us, through the lens of a half-shifter, half-witch.
I want to ask him about his parents, but we end up talking about my power.
“I think it will be good if you can learn to control it. A Seeker traditionally had visions, but they didn’t always arrive as dreams. A Mate Finder needs to touch a person to see their mate, though. I’ll need to work with Lily, too.”
He gives me advice on how to potentially control my environment the next time I’m in a dream, like astral projection.
I’ve never tried to interact with anyone while I’m in them, and since he agrees that what I’m seeing is likely in the present, that it might be possible to communicate with the subjects.
“When you go to bed tonight, I want you to commune with your omega. Feel that ember inside you, feel the magic. And then picture the woman. Ask your omega to let you see her more clearly.”
“You think that’ll work?”
Ghost shrugs. “Magic is complex, but even simple intention can accomplish quite a lot. What you’re experiencing, your power, it is magic. Your omega magic.”
“Like a witch?”
“Not exactly. More like the Moon Goddess. Your power is hers. A witch’s power is hers. But your power and a witch’s power are not alike. Make sense?”
Not really, but I don’t admit it. Instead, I promise I’ll try to practice control. I haven’t done that before. The dreams have always just kind of happened.
“Just focus on improving your powers. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“Well, if the witches are an imminent threat, it’s hard to do both.”
“You’re safe here on the mountain, Mona. Deidre won’t come back here.”
I want to ask, why are we even hiding if Deidre won’t return here? If she isn’t coming back, that means she is out there, hurting people. People like Andrea’s mate.
Eventually, I get hungry enough to relinquish my control of the situation. Not that I ever had any, but I allow Ghost to walk me the rest of the way home.
He says goodbye in the driveway, not even coming inside. He lingers, like he wants to say more, but nothing comes out.
Silas steps out onto the porch. He’s glaring at Ghost. Eventually, Ghost turns and walks away.