Rider Ghost Rider Novels & Stories

Ghost had truly gone mad, grafting the flesh of others to himself to absorb the power of the spiritron vein! She shuddered in fear—it was as crude as it was horrific! Ghost simply shrugged. "Well, you're not getting away now that you've seen my secret. Leave me your flesh and the power of the spiritron vein that you embody!" Laughing freakishly, he lunged at Skyler. "So fast!" Skyler was stunned, her mind barely registering a thing as she only saw a blur before she found herself staring at Ghost's grisly bandaged face. Bang! She raised her arms to block his punch, but it sent her flying anyway, crashing down to the edge of the hospital roof.

Dad rarely comes here. I keep looking at her picture until my eyes turn heavy with sleep. GHOST His feet are lighter than air as he strides toward her, making no noise, not even by mistake. His feet aren't touching the floor. He's floating in the air, just an inch above. A ghostly smile plays on his handsome face as he glances down at her, sleeping in an awkward way. His eyes are still roaming on her body, looking for a sign of injury. Fury burns in his eyes as he recalls her surroundings with the fire. His suit is so dark that he easily bends in the dark.

The weirdo did not look like a shaman at all. He was wearing bright pink feather coat. His hair was tied into bright blonde pigtails and he wore a large neon pink hat on his head. He also carried an Armani bag pack over his shoulder. The guy looked more like a middleaged fashion designer than a shaman. Joonjae was not too fond of the guy but he had no choice. Undertaker was the only shaman who was daring enough to agree to Joonjae and Chaerin's ghost marriage. Moreover, Undertaker was equally determined to bring down Park Haewon. He would not disclose his reasons, but his agenda did not matter to Joonjae as long as their goal was the same.

“And I did.” The silence on the other end lasted longer this time. I knew she was thinking. Probably trying to decide whether she believed a word I was saying. Fair enough. I wouldn’t trust me either. “I’ve spent a long time trying to find Ghost,” I continued. “Every time I thought I had something, it disappeared. You covered yourself better than anyone I’ve ever tracked.” I glanced at the secured connection on my screen. “That’s why I wanted to know if I could actually do it.”

I lied about my age and ended up in a secret online relationship with one of the biggest names in esports. He was nothing like his public persona. In public, he was cold and aloof. Online, though, he flirted with me nonstop. When he got worked up, he even said he'd be my good boy. Then my nineteenth birthday came and went, and my wolf still hadn't awakened. Most werewolves shifted for the first time at sixteen. Even late bloomers awakened by eighteen. I couldn’t let Adrian find out I was defective, with no wolf at all. So I broke up with him and blocked him everywhere. Months later, while staying with my best friend Chloe, I heard her older brother speak outside the bedroom. I had heard that

I would not beg. A motorcycle engine cut through the air, slow and deliberate. The sound pulled everyone's gaze toward the center of the yard. A sleek, black bike rolled forward, and my breath caught in my throat. The rider moved with a calm that spoke of power and control, as if the world bent around him. He dismounted with unhurried control. Kade Cross, they called him Ruin.

Jobs were scarce when your last name was Chen and everyone in Coldwater knew your father died owing money to half the town. The straightaway opened up before me, and I twisted the throttle. The speedometer climbed at eighty, ninety, one hundred. My competitor, a rider on a Yamaha R1 who went by "Razor," was half a bike length behind. I could feel his frustration radiating through the night air. He'd been winning these underground races for six months straight until Ghost Rider appeared three months ago. He had no idea Ghost Rider was a woman. None of them did. That was the point.

Not anger either, though that was closer. Instinct. The deep, wordless recognition of a predator that something larger is in motion. That the ground beneath your feet is shifting in ways you cannot yet see. Because the more I turned the last three months over in my mind, the more I kept returning to the same anomaly. The same thing that did not fit. A hired gun completes his contract. A rival consolidates his gains. An enemy eliminates his target when the window is open. The Ghost Rider had done none of those things.

But the gang made it clear that I wasn’t a burden, instead… I was someone they could rely on, too. “Ghost,” Tyler’s voice crackled over the comm in my helmet. “They’re here. Three bikes. Colors we don’t know.” Ghost. Yeah, after I left the Iron Howlers Pack, I’ve decided that Raven died. And the one who remained was none other than this version of myself, a ghost. Headlights split the dust up ahead. Another rival gang who wouldn’t stop trying until they were taught a lesson. I rolled my shoulders, my grip tightening on the throttle.

"Deal. But understand this, Ghost Rider—if you double-cross me, if this is some elaborate trap, I will make sure you suffer before you die. Both of you." "Noted." We shook on it, and just like that, an unholy alliance was formed.