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Jasper’s grin widened. “Afraid of ghosts?”

“No,” I snapped automatically.

Which was only partly true.

Ghosts, in general, were harmless. The average one was barely noticeable, even by a demon—a flicker of energy, a cool draft, maybe the odd door creak or misplaced object.

That kind, I could deal with.

The kind that could rearrange furniture and turn bedsheets into haunted puppets? Yeah... not so fond of those ones.

It’s a crappy photoshopped ghost made of a bedsheet, Devlin. The cabin is definitely not haunted. It’s just a gimmick,I told myself.Besides, you’re a demon. Maybe not the scary kind, but you’re still a demon, nonetheless.

Taking a deep breath, I refocused on the paper in my hands, reading through the reservation details.

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Name: Cassandra Calloway

Reservation date: October 30th–November 13th

Location: Bramble Cabin, Headless Hollow

A nameless entity resides in the cabin—a tortured soul, hell-bent on its solitary existence, determined to plague anyone who dares cross its threshold. We have yet to find someone brave enough to see their stay through to the end.

How long will you last?

Small Print: There is a minimum one-week booking policy. Cancelations can be made up to 48 hours prior to stay. Refunds will not be issued to anyone who leaves the house on account of being scared.

Enjoy your stay!

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“Look, it’sperfect,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table. “You said you wanted to start dating, and Headless Hollow is one of the few tourist towns in the U.S. that isexclusivelyfor magical beings.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And the part where you booked me a vacation with a vengeful spirit as a roomie?”

Jasper shrugged. “It just felt like fate when I asked Cassie if she knew any paranormal-only vacation destinations.” He leaned forward, eyes glinting. “And literally minutes before, she was offered the reservation for Bramble Cabin due to a cancellation.”

Fate.

Except it wasn’t Fate pulling the strings. Fate was supposed to be my mate summoning me—not me being booked into a haunted house that would probably scare the living shit out of me.

I exhaled sharply, dragging my gaze to the neon-lit clock behind the bar. A few minutes left until midnight.

I wondered if Lochran was sitting in his usual spot in the clan’s town hall, praying that this would be the year his mate finally summoned him. Maybe I’d check in on him in a few days. See if he wanted to join me in the totally-not-haunted cabin.

I turned back to Jasper and gave him a wry smirk. “Thanks, pup.”

Jasper’s grin softened into something serious. “You know you can ask me for a favor anytime, Shadowman. I owe you more than a two-week vacation.”

There it was. The wolf shifter loyalty.

It was practically woven into their DNA—an unshakable sense of obligation to their pack, their mate, or someone who they believed had saved their life.

And Jasper? He had decided long ago that he owed me his.

His packmates had been tracking him the night I found him, following his scent into town. They would have found him eventually. I had just sped up the process—summoning my shadows, apparating him straight back to his pack before they could get to him first. But to Jasper, that still meant I saved him. And in his eyes, a vacation wasn’t even close to repaying that debt.