Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

Chapter Eighteen





Elle mumbles something in her sleep and throws her leg over mine.

As if half-lying on top of me isn’t enough, her small hand tightens around my shoulder and she moans. My erection springs to life.

Fucking hell.

After watching Elle’s sleeping face all night — or what part of the night I let her sleep — I still don’t understand what the bloody hell is going on with me.

She doesn’t belongs in my world. We eat people like her alive. We’re all monsters unworthy of the life we liberally snatch from others.

The plan was simple: save Team Zero from Hades and Omega’s clutches. I didn’t care what happens to me in the process because my life means nothing. I died the day my mother abandoned me in the amusement park. Ghost was born. Ghost killed and maimed without batting an eye. Ghost was a druggie who only existed because he had companions to protect.

But ever since this firefly barged into my life and kept calling me with the name I made her think is mine, I’m starting to believe that maybe Julian can come to life again. It’s so fucking idiotic because I don’t even remember life as Julian.

I’m Ghost, and Ghost doesn’t do distractions. Ghost goes for his goal without looking sideways.

And then there’s this woman. This damn woman. I want her moans. I want her screams. I want her mine.

My fingers brush strands of Elle’s long hair off her soft features. When she told me to make her mine, I’ve never felt such ecstasy. When I sank deep inside her for the first time in her life, it felt like it was my first time, too. And in a way it was. I don’t remember the other women’s faces. I was too drugged out of my mind back then.

One thing is for certain: I never took a woman bare. With Elle, I hated the mere fucking idea of a condom. When she initiated it, I already thought of her as mine.

I never wanted to keep anything as mine. While I consider Team Zero my family, they were never mine. We’re all too fucked up for that. But Elle? Maybe I didn’t want to admit it before, but since the first time I’ve seen her defiant, electric gaze in that alley, I wanted to keep her. She can fight all she want but she’s been mine since the second I laid eyes on her.

Now, I have to make tough decisions that might cause Mist to hate me forever. One thing is for sure: I will never let Elle out of my sight again.

A rustle sounds from the window. It’s quiet and barely noticeable. I throw the sheet to cover Elle’s nakedness as Shadow peeks from the window. He’s only wearing shorts.

“Some privacy,” I grumble. “No more barging in from the window. There’s a door.”

“Doors are boring.” He remains crouched on the window sill. His gaze flicks from Elle to me, expression observant. “Time for some boxing.”

“Not today.” Nothing would make me leave Elle’s side.

“Come on, mate.” He groans. “You got rid of your excessive energy, but I need to punch. Don’t make me ask that old hag Mist for a duel, we would kill each other. And that fucking Flame is always asleep, I don’t know how the bloody hell he keeps in shape.”

“Not my problem.” I give him a pointed look. “Go to your underground fighting rings.”

“Fell tits over arse, eh, mate?” he asks with a strange look in his eyes. At first, I thought it had to do with that robotic look trying to weave back in, but it’s a genuine sadness.

What’s happening to him these days?

“It’s arse over tits,” I correct him.

“What-the-bloody-hell-ever.” He turns to climb down but says over his shoulder. “As much as I hate to admit it, Mist could be right. Maybe it’s better off if we bring no one to our hell.”

And then he’s gone.

“Too late,” I murmur, staring at Elle. She’s already in too deep. There won’t be a way out.

Elle stirs, her eyes fluttering open slowly. When their bright blue falls over me and she smiles — tentatively, I want to eat her whole. She’s so fucking beautiful, strong, and innocent. All at once.

My phone vibrates on the nightstand. I catch a glimpse of Mist’s name and ignore it. Even if Hades himself calls, I won’t answer.

Apparently, Elle has brilliant vision since she catches the name, too. Her lips pout in that way that makes me want to kiss her to death.

“Aren’t you supposed to take that?” she asks. “It’s Mist.”

My fingers trail over her chest and wrap around her neck. Her pulse has become the only constant thing in my life. When it jumps under my thumb, it’s like a shot of ecstasy. “I’m only supposed to be here.”

She smiles sheepishly. I run my forefinger along her lower lip. She opens her mouth and sucks it inside – without breaking eye contact.

My erection becomes painful.

Her warm, wet tongue continues swirling around my finger until I nearly come like a teenager.

“Are you very sore?” I grunt.

“No,” she blurts, letting go of my finger with a pop. Then, she winces. “I mean yes, but it’s fine.” She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Why?”

“Because I have to do this.”

I flip her on her stomach, and she squeals then laughs. The throaty, carefree sound strikes a place I never knew existed inside me. I grab a handful of her sublime arse and lift her on her elbows and knees with my other hand.