Choosing to say out of the Alliance, the Cinders are isolated in their own conflicts, and when Helia Cinder reaches to the void for answers, she inadvertently draws a creature out. Expecting to be eaten alive, she is instead left with a man with no...
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Ghost panted as he woke to the rise of the moon, running a hand through his hair as he dropped his gaze down to his pants. A groan rolled out of him as he tried to ease the rock hard erection back to its normal state, but his mind racing through his dream from the night before made it difficult. Warm, bare skin pressed to his naked upper chest, nothing but a single lace bra dividing them, and Helia's moan as she straddled him and ground her body against his arousal.
Great, now it was harder.
Part of him knew it was wrong, but he dropped his hand to the outside of his pants anyway, arching into his palm as Stone's name left her lips in a huff of air, his mouth sucking at the vein just below her skin. "Helia," Ghost whispered, his fangs lengthening as he imagined plunging them into her throat, and her name didn't feel so wrong on his lips as he wrapped his hand around his shaft and thrust. With the feeling of his mouth on her throat, her breasts squished against his chest muscles, and her core stroking up his length as she arched into him, it took all but moments until the tightness of his hand had a shallow orgasm rolling out of him. Pleasure had a whine easing out of him as the shame and self-loathing sank it.
Ghost had no right to feel such things while Stone was in the void.
Or was he?
Helia had not been at the Skytower library the night before, but from Stone's memories, he knew she'd been training with Pyre and sleeping. If his memory served him well enough, she might be there tonight, searching out information on Stone. It was as best a chance as any to prove if she was real or fabricated, and he threw himself into the showers before he'd even taken his clothes off. Hot water poured down his ice cold skin, and he peeled away his clothes with a grunt of displeasure at his moist undergarments and pants. For years, he'd spent his days sleeping in darkness, seeing nothing but an empty void until he woke in agony, but at least it had been quiet.
"Helia," the single word on his lips had his member at attention so quickly that he dropped his forehead to the shower wall and flexed his hand to keep it from grabbing himself again. Just her name had those images flashing on repeat, the way her hands had dug into his skin, the sweat beading her lower back as he held her close, and the quick beating of her heart as she gave herself to Stone's hands and control.
This wasn't right.
Something wasn't right.
Ghost had brushed it off as his mind forming a fantasy to soothe himself, to ease the years of pain by showing him Stone, by giving him back his brother's soft voice and flashing his smiles in a mirror as Helia worked through his hair. But this, this was too vivid to be imaginary. The only way to truly know was to go to her, to Helia Cinder, the heiress to Pyre Cinder's line and a grand mage with not an ounce of respect for his kind. If he was wrong, she would kill him.
But that wouldn't be too bad.
Then he could join Stone.
Ghost found his normal attire where he'd left it, years ago, folded up in the bottommost drawer of the room the Arc's had prepared for him. The bed was made, the floors neat and free of dust, and his clothes had been recently washed. How often had someone been rewashing them during the years he'd stuffed himself into that dark room? They'd taken such care to keep a place ready for him if he ever desired to return to the world, but without Stone there was no point.
