Page 22

CASPIAN

T he camp is too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes my skin crawl.

Mars and Autumn crouch by the fire, dragging their fingers through the dirt playing Tic Tac Toe like the world didn’t almost end again.

She laughs at something he says, and the sound twists somewhere in my chest. It’s not jealousy, not really, but it might be something sharper.

Add in the fact my ghosts are haunting me again, and we’ve got a recipe for disaster.

She’s already witnessed their effects more than she should have. I can’t keep bothering her every time the darkness gets a little too loud.

The ghosts always pick the worst moments to surface, and tonight they’re clawing their way up from wherever I’ve buried them.

We spent the day clearing corpses from the area, choosing burial over burning to avoid choking on the stench.

We talked about moving campsites, because there isn’t anything we can do about all the blood that’s still splattered around everywhere.

It will only hurt us if we ingest it or rub it into open wounds, so I think we’re safe from that.

Mars isn’t the greatest cook, but I doubt he’ll consider using it as a seasoning. But still. It’s really gross.

Now, in our first real moment of peace since the attack, my past comes calling. I haven’t yet figured out a way to take myself off its speed dial.

I can’t let Autumn see me like this. She’s dealing with enough as it is, without adding mine to the mix every single time I have an issue.

I sure as hell won’t risk pointing another gun at her head because my mind can’t tell past from present.

So I slip away from the firelight and into the dark to deal with my demons myself, the way it should be.

A few minutes.

That’s all I need to break down and then pull myself back together. To stuff everything back down where it belongs. Then I’ll return, and no one will be the wiser.

Maybe then I’ll finally be able to join everyone in the light.

I pass Luna near the edge of camp. She’s curled beside her water bowl with her ears slightly back. She lifts her head with a soft whine, like she knows where I’m going, but she doesn’t follow.

I don’t go far. Past the trees and beyond the edge of the glow. Far enough to be alone, but still close enough in case something goes wrong.

The quiet doesn’t help.

The dark presses in faster than I expect, so I’m not prepared for the onslaught. Flashbacks slip in through the cracks in my mind. Bones, blood, smoke, screaming. My father’s voice in the dark. My brother’s last breath.

Casper. That’s what they always called me, but that’s not my name.

I close my eyes and press my back to the cold brick wall of a crumbling structure. Everything is always crumbling out here. My breathing speeds up. My chest tightens. My hands fist at my sides .

This was a mistake. I should go back.

I turn around to do exactly that, but stop short at the sight in front of me.

Autumn appears like a ghost in the night.

Her bare legs gleam pale in the moonlight, the tattered denim of her shorts riding high.

Mars’s dark gray and black flannel hangs past the frayed hem, loose and unbuttoned, revealing a thin gray tank that barely reaches below her breasts.

Her purple hair blows wild around her face, strands catching on the wind.

And those eyes, hazel and bright, glaring at me like she already knows exactly why I’m out here.

She stands a few feet away, arms crossed over her stomach. Behind her, the branches glow faintly from the fires we left burning around the campfire, light and shadow framing her in something almost otherworldly.

She doesn’t ask if I’m okay. She doesn’t hesitate.

She walks toward me with slow steps, like she’s approaching a wounded and dangerous creature. It only makes me want to back away, but I can’t. I stay frozen. Not from fear. From want.

From the desperate need to have her close, even when every broken part of me screams to run.

Then her hands are on my face, warm against my skin, and I can’t stop myself from leaning into them.

She shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t touch me like this.

But she looks at me like I’m worth something.

“You’re incredible, Caspian,” she says, her eyes glistening in the moonlight. “You deserve the world.”

Somehow, that hurts more than anything else, because I’ve never let myself believe it before. No matter who said it, or how often. But hearing it from her? I almost believe it.

Her thumbs trace gentle circles along my cheekbones, and I can’t help but lean into the touch this time. The warmth spreads through my chest, melting some of the ice that’s been there for so long .

When she steps closer, I can smell the faint scent of smoke and something uniquely her. Something that makes me want to pull her against me and never let go.

Her breath is warm against my skin. Every part of her is warm. She’s pure light in the darkest pitch black.

“You’re wrong, Cas. You don’t have to carry this alone.” She says the words I’ve never let myself believe. And I break.

I close the distance between us. My lips crash into hers with a desperation that surprises us both. Unlike the last two, this kiss is hungry, raw, with everything I’ve held back flooding out at once.

She doesn’t pull away like I expect her to. Instead, she melts into me and kisses me back with equal fervor, sending my heartbeat into overdrive. It pounds so hard in my chest that it hurts, but I force myself to hold back. To not scare her away.

Her hands slide from my face to tangle in my hair, tugging hard enough to make me groan against her mouth.

The sound seems to ignite something in her, and lips part under mine. When our tongues meet, it’s like striking a match in the darkness that’s all-consuming.

I turn us around and press her back against the wall with my body caging her in.

My hands slide down to her waist and my fingers brush the bare skin exposed by her torn tank top, right above the waistband of her denim shorts.

The contact sends electricity shooting through both of us.

She arches into me and a soft moan escapes her throat that sends heat spiraling through me.

Her hands fist in the fabric of my hoodie, pulling me ever closer. I can feel every curve of her body pressed against mine through the thin cotton, feel the way her breathing hitches when I drag my lips along her jaw to that spot below her ear that makes her body shudder.

The flannel she wears has slipped off one shoulder, and I can smell Mars’s scent mixed with hers. Something that should bother me, but it doesn’t. She tastes like salvation and damnation all at once.

My mouth finds the sensitive skin of her neck, and I feel her pulse racing beneath my lips. A continuous thrum that bursts with life.

The salt of her skin mingles with the lingering smoke from the fires.

She tilts her head back to give me better access, and I take advantage, placing open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat.

Her fingers tighten in my hoodie when I find a particularly sensitive spot.

The fabric stretching under her grip and the small gasp she makes drives me wild.

“Caspian.” Her breath fans over my hair when she breathes out my name, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. Her voice is breathless, wanting, and something primal stirs in my chest.

I pull back to look at her, and the sight steals what’s left of my breath.

Her lips are swollen from our kisses, her cheeks flushed, her hazel eyes dark with desire. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, and somehow she’s here with me, looking at me like I’m not broken beyond repair.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. I rest my forehead against hers while framing her face with my hands. “Autumn. You shouldn’t be here. My ghosts aren’t yours to fight.”

She rises on her toes to press another soft kiss to my lips. This one is tender, a stark contrast to the fire we shared. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Not even if you try to make me go.”

I let her hold me together, even though I should be the one protecting her. “That night…when you touched me…” I swallow around the lump in my throat, the words rough on my tongue. “It helped more than I knew how to say. ”

She lets go of my hoodie to squeeze my hand. “You don’t have to say. I know something’s wrong without you needing to ask for help.”

I look down at her, at the way her eyes don’t waver, at the way she never flinches away from the broken parts of me.

She’s pure warmth and light that I never thought I’d find in this wasted world. I swallow hard. “That’s what makes it worse.”

She shivers against me, despite the heat still pulsing between us.

Without hesitation, I push the flannel off her shoulder. “Take this off.”

Confusion flickers across her sparkling eyes, but she does as I ask.

I pull back enough to tug my hoodie over my head, ignoring how the cool night air bites my skin.

This is something I should have done much sooner. I place it over her head and watch as it swallows her much smaller frame. Once she’s snug inside, I cradle her jaw in my hands and press one last kiss to her soft lips, lingering long enough to memorize the feeling.

“Remind me to tell Mars I found a way to keep you warm without leading a horde of rotters into the campsite,” I say.

It’s not much. Just a hoodie. But it’s the only thing I have to give her. The only way I can keep her safe tonight.

Her laugh spills into the night air and her eyes shine with something I haven’t seen in far too long.

Something that makes me believe maybe we have more than just survival to look forward to. “The moment Mars wakes up, I’ll gladly remind you.”