Ruin Me, Alpha-Chapter 36: Twenty Days to Escape a Ghost

I shoved Devon back so hard his spine hit the mahogany desk, papers scattering like startled birds.

"Call the witch. Now." My voice cracked like a whip. "Or I swear on every drop of blood you’ve spilled, I’ll tear this place apart, ghost by ghost."

He didn’t move, just stared at me with those storm-grey eyes, pupils blown wide. Obsession looked good on him, sick as that was.

"You won’t hurt them," he said, low and certain. "You’re not that cruel."

"Try me." I snatched the letter-opener from the desk and pressed the silver tip to my own throat. "One push and I bleed out. How long before I’m a ghost too, Devon? How long before you have to watch me walk around with dead eyes like the rest of your puppets?"

His face went white. Actually white. The Alpha who’d bathed in blood paled at the sight of one tiny blade against my skin.

"Irene—" It came out broken.

I dug deeper into my collarbone, claws out. A bead of blood rolled down my collarbone. "Call. Her."

He lunged, fingers locking around my wrist so fast the letter-opener clattered away. He yanked me against him, crushing me so tight my ribs protested.

"Never," he snarled into my hair. "Never threaten that again."

"Then give me the witch!"

He let go only to slam his fist on the desk. "Thelma! Get in here!"

The doors flew open. Thelma stepped inside alone, red hair pulled back severely, eyes flicking to the blood on my neck.

"Alpha?"

"Prepare the circle," Devon ordered, voice raw. "She wants to leave."

Thelma’s gaze slid to me, then back to him. "Alpha, the veil is thin. If she crosses now—"

"Do it." He cut her off, never looking away from me. "She wants to go? Fine. But she’ll do it looking me in the eye while she says she feels nothing."

I rolled my eyes.

Thelma dipped her head and left the room again.

Devon grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet him. "You’re making a mistake. One you’d regret."

"No," I hissed, "you did when you dragged me here."

He laughed, bitter and jagged. "I died for you, Irene. I clawed my way out of the grave, built a whole fucking world just to have you in it, and you still think leaving is the answer?"

"I think breathing is the answer."

His thumb smeared the blood across my throat like war paint. "Twenty days. That’s what Molly said. Twenty days until your body gives out back there and you’re dragged here permanently. You want to waste them running?"

"I want to use them escaping you, I can’t bring myself to sacrifice my life after everything you have done," I snapped. "You stole everything. My pack. My freedom. My—" I almost said you. Caught myself. "I’m not supposed to be breathing the same air as you. You are supposed to be dead."

Devon’s eyes flashed. "But, you are not. I’m here and you are here and you want me more than you ever want to admit."

I opened my mouth. Closed it. The words wouldn’t come.

He saw it—the hesitation—and pounced. He kissed me hard, teeth clashing, tongue forcing past my defenses like he could taste the lie. I bit him. He groaned and kissed me harder, backing me into the desk until I was sitting on it, legs spread, his hips grinding between them.

When he pulled back we were both panting.

"Say you feel nothing," he dared, voice ragged. "Say it while you’re soaked for me."

I slapped him. The crack echoed.

He smiled, blood on his teeth. "There she is."

The doors opened again. Thelma, Molly, Toph, and Astrid filed in like soldiers awaiting orders. Astrid bounced on her toes, eyes bright.

"Is it happening? Is she really leaving? Can I come watch?"

"Shut up, Astrid," Molly muttered.

Devon ignored them all. He lifted me off the desk and set me on my feet like I weighed nothing. His hand stayed on my waist, possessive, thumb stroking the strip of bare skin in the open back of my dress.

Thelma rolled out a thick black rug across the hardwood. Chalk symbols appeared under her fingers faster than I could track. She lit candles—black, dripping red wax—and began chanting in a language that made my bones ache.

Devon pulled me against his chest, arms locking around me from behind. His lips brushed my ear.

"Last chance, baby. Stay. Be my Luna here. No Gideon. No Simon. No one else. Just us."

I turned in his arms, gripped his shirt. "You want me to choose you? Then let me go. Prove you love me more than you want to own me."

His whole body went rigid. For one heartbeat I thought he’d refuse.

Then he kissed my forehead—soft, reverent, devastating.

"I’ll let you go," he whispered. "But I’ll be waiting on the other side. When your twenty days are up, you would have only seven days to return. If you don’t return, you would never be able to return again. The border would be broken and faded forever. You’d never see me again. When you wish to return, say my name, "Devon, come and get me," the ritual would walk on its own and you’d appear here. And so, help me god, if you do, Irene, there’ll be no door out."

Thelma’s chant grew louder. Wind whipped through the sealed room, candles guttering. A circle of white light cracked open in the air like a wound.

Devon stepped back, hands fisted at his sides. "Go."

I took one step toward the light—and he broke.

He grabbed me, crushed me to him, kissed me like the world was ending. His hands were everywhere—my hair, my throat, my ass—memorizing. When he finally let go, his eyes were wet.

"Please, come back, Irene. Okay? I’ll wait."

He sounded helpless and pleading. So, I nodded slowly.

"I love you," he said, voice shredded. "I loved you when you hated me. I loved you when you killed me. I’ll love you when you come back screaming my name. Run all you want, Irene. You’re mine in every world."

I couldn’t speak. My throat was raw.

I stepped into the light.

Cold. Burning. Like being torn inside out.

Then I hit solid ground.

Real ground.

I was on my knees in the Binding Hall, the same spot where Devon had thrown me across the marble. The frozen statues were moving again—wolves blinking, gasping, the ceremony chaos resuming like someone hit play.

Simon’s body lay where Devon had dropped it, throat ripped open, eyes staring at nothing.

And Devon—real Devon, alive Devon—was gone.

Hands grabbed me. Guards. Shouting.

I laughed. Couldn’t help it. The sound came out manic.

Because I could smell him. His scent clung to my skin, my hair, inside me. Pine and blood and sex.

Twenty days.

I had twenty days to burn the world down and figure out if I was running from him or racing back to him.

Strong arms yanked me up. Gideon’s voice in my ear, furious. "Where the hell were you? The Alpha’s dead—Simon’s dead—people saw you vanish!"

I glared at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I was called upon few hours ago. They said you were getting married to Simon. When I got here, I met this. They said the Alpha was killed by one man who says he is doing it because of you. He did the same to Simon before he took you and vanished."

I met his eyes and smiled, slow and sharp. "So, that is why these men are arresting me?"

"Yes. They believed you are an accomplice."

"Take me to the cells," I said sweetly.

He frowned. "Irene?"

I leaned in, lips brushing his ear. "And Gideon? When this is over, I’m going to kill you too."

He jerked back, eyes wide.

I just kept smiling.

Because somewhere, in a frozen world built from obsession and blood, Devon was waiting.

And I wasn’t sure anymore which one of us was the ghost.