Ghost Knight Novels & Stories

It resembled heat haze over a frozen pond. Roric raised his lance, but Kael gestured for him to wait. "Don't waste the charge." Out of the gray mist emerged a wolf. But it wasn't an ordinary wolf; it was a Ghost-Packer. It stood nearly seven feet tall, made of a translucent, oily smoke that shifted and swirled. Instead of eyes, it had two hollow cavities filled with flickering violet static-the remnants of a soul deleted by Liora's "Link," yet refusing to leave the physical plane.

The horrid sight and odor have my gut retching to the pit. That’s it! I have had enough of this shit! Damon is a demonic incarnate of whoever the devil in hell might be. My tail of courage tucked between my legs in cowardice, creeps slithering down my spine and the large part of my brain screaming at me to get the hell out of here before someone might catch me sneaking in this place. However, as I was about to abandon this petrifying quest, the sound of metal clacking caught my attention. Snapping my neck to the source, my heart sank to my feet with what I saw.

After a moment, Phantom returned to his senses and said a little dully, "You… You're Yaksha." Yaksha was the secret boss of Ghosthorn. Eight years ago, Ghosthorn had appeared in Marvonia out of thin air. Under Yaksha's leadership, it had only taken two years to take over Marvonia's black market. It had also gained control of Marvonia's underworld casinos and underground dealings. No one had ever seen the mysterious Yaksha, though. Even Phantom, who was the person in charge of Ghosthorn, had never seen him. And so, he genuinely couldn't be blamed for being unable to recognize Yaksha. Though he'd never seen Yaksha's face before, the latter's voice was beyond familiar to him.

The city below continued its restless hum, oblivious to the danger that lurked just above, watching and waiting. The man’s laughter died down, replaced by a smirk of satisfaction as he pulled his hood back over his head, retreating once more into the shadows. He was a ghost among the skyscrapers, a phantom of the night, and with the name *Nosce Hostem* etched into his flesh, he was ready to play the next move in his deadly game.

But they all felt so fucking real. Jesus! The thought of having sex with a ghost made me sick all over. My stomach knotted as a full-blown terror took root. A fever ran down my body and my skin gallop with goose pimples. "Do you see her?" his question brought me back to reality. I nodded slowly. "So those times I see you talking to yourself, it is her you are talking to?" I motioned. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You need deliverance with serious prayers oh!"

The room fell silent as the girl glared at me. Rachel interrupted the awkward silence by suggesting a walk outside for some fresh air. I agreed and off we went. The rain has stopped and the sun had finally made an appearance. Birds were singing away in the trees and children were playing happily around us. I listened as Rachel explained the girl who was called Gina, had been an orphan from a pack that had been destroyed in a bad attack years ago. The old Alpha of this pack had allowed her to join this pack. She was only four years old and the only survivor.

"With everything that happened. Starting with me trying to go back to Boston, then realising I'm a ghost. I went back there and jumped into that empty grave, Trying to kill myself" "Wait wait wait." Austin interrupted her, smiling. "You knew you were a Ghost, and you tried to kill yourself " he raised his hands in apology, as he couldn't control his laughter. He saw she wasn't having any of it, and stopped laughing, but the smile on his face couldn't fade away.

And I fucking hated the dark. I still hadn’t figured out who had breached my system. No trail, no breadcrumbs, not even the faintest flicker of an IP to follow. There were only two names that came to mind that might belong to the person. Gambit and Nyx. Those were two people who I’d heard whispers of being talented enough to pull that trick off. The names were all I had. No files. No images. No histories. Nothing. Which was exactly what made them dangerous. Ghosts were harder to fight than enemies with faces, and whoever they were, they were skilled enough to keep me blind.

"And we see what they want." The two of them moved forward, sticking to the trees and keeping their distance from the group of rebels. As they neared a clearing, Lia spotted them—a group of wolves, their faces weathered and scarred, their eyes sharp with suspicion. They weren’t purebloods. They were Greykin, like her. One of them stepped forward, a woman with silver hair and a black cloak that blended seamlessly into the shadows. Her eyes, like Cassian’s, glowed with a fierce intensity, and she immediately assessed them, her gaze flicking from Lia to Cassian.

“So, she is part demon? One of Dante’s sprogs that slipped through the net?” “No,” Lucas leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as a weary sigh escaped him. “Atlas and Amos don’t have wolf spirits remember? Chloe does; Hecate.” “Hecate? What kind of name is that?” “It’s the name of a Greek goddess. As far as we can tell, only the Wolfe line has a wolven spirit with a Greek name. Even Sierra and Alvaro don’t have them. So, how come she has one?” Lucas raised an eyebrow, hazel eyes darkening as the questions piled up. “I think we need to make a call.”