I’m not into men. I’m into ghosts. My friends think I’m insane. “Ghosts aren’t real,” they say. But then I moved into my new apartment. And I met him. He was lounging in my bathtub, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “You seem to like me an awful lot,” he purred. “So… want to try it with a ghost?” The thing that pressed into me was bone-chillingly cold, but I clung to it, refusing to let go. In this world, only a ghost could awaken my most primal desires… 1 The first thing I did when I got home from work was light a stick of ritual incense in the small, empty room I kept just for this purpose. A silent invitation. A desperate hope of attracting a male spirit. It’s a habit I’ve maintained for nearly a decade. My friends can’t stand it. They never visit. They plead with me to stop chasing fantasies and find a proper boyfriend. But I have absolutely no interest in ordinary men. I crave something cold, something ethereal and damp with the scent of the grave. Only a ghost can stir the deepest, most primitive desires of my soul. And tonight, on this otherwise unremarkable evening, it seemed my wish had finally come true. I was soaking in the bathtub, the water steaming around me. One moment, my mind was clear; the next, a strange, heavy dizziness washed over me. My vision blurred. I shook my head, a spike of panic rising. Was I running out of oxygen? I struggled to sit up, my limbs feeling like lead. That’s when I felt it. An icy touch against my throat. Through the swirling mist, a strange man materialized before me. He wore a long, black robe, cinched at the waist with a simple sash. The collar hung open, revealing a wide expanse of chest so pale it seemed inhuman. His hair and eyes were a stark, ink-black, and his lips were colorless, as if drained of all blood. Strands of long hair drifted around his face, moving as if stirred by an unseen wind. I forced my mouth open, my own voice a strained whisper. “Who… are you?” A slow, knowing smile curved his lips. He lifted a finger and drew two words in the air. Steven. The spectral letters shimmered for a few seconds before dissolving into droplets that vanished into the bathwater. I was stunned into silence, my mind reeling. In his right hand, he toyed with a small wooden talisman. My talisman. The one I kept in the summoning room. He’d appeared out of thin air in my bathroom. His otherworldly appearance, the floating words, and the fact that he was holding my summoning charm… No human could do these things. The realization hit me like a lightning strike. A violent tremor ran through my body, not of fear, but of pure, ecstatic excitement. A wide, uncontrollable grin spread across my face. “You’re… you’re a ghost.” “Clever girl,” he murmured, his voice a low, hypnotic whisper. “So…” His fingers began to trace a slow, cold path down my throat. “Want to try it with a ghost?” The icy sensation traveled downwards, over my collarbone, across the curve of my breast, past my stomach, and continued its descent. From the moment I knew what he was, my heart had been hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. A desperate, burning need ignited within me, a wildfire of pure lust. This was what I had prayed for, yearned for, for a decade. He was everything I had ever imagined. The cold aura, the damp, grave-like scent clinging to him… The sight of him alone was enough to make me lose control. My breath came in ragged gasps. I cursed my weak, trembling body. If I’d had any strength, I would have pounced on him already. With a final surge of effort, I reached forward, grabbed the lapels of his robe, and pulled him down. “I do.” 2 Steven let out a soft ‘tsk’. “So impatient.” The next thing I knew, he’d lifted me from the water as if I weighed nothing and set me down on the cool marble of the bathroom counter. His hands were colder than the ceramic sink, and everywhere he touched, my skin felt as if it had been pressed against ice. But this strange, alien sensation only fanned the flames of my desire higher. Steven let his robe fall open, revealing the landscape beneath. My breath hitched, and tears of pure, physiological arousal pricked my eyes. He took my right hand and pressed it where it belonged. “Cold? Are you scared?” I shook my head frantically. Scared? How could I be scared? I wanted to pin him to the floor and explore every inch of him. He saw the raw hunger in my eyes and a pleased smile graced his pale lips. He wrapped his hands around my waist and effortlessly turned me around, so I was no longer facing him, but the mirror. He embraced me from behind, his long, slender fingers tilting my chin up. “Look at yourself,” he whispered, his voice a silken temptation. I saw my reflection in the mirror—flushed, wanton, completely undone. “Please…” I begged. Steven chuckled, his chest pressing hard against my back. But the moment our bodies made full contact, a piercing scream of agony erupted right beside my ear. “Aaargh!” The cold presence behind me vanished. Stunned, I whirled around. Steven was gone. The bathroom was empty, save for me. It was as if he’d never been there, just a fever dream born of steam and longing. But then I saw it—a faint, reddish mark on my collarbone, the ghost of a bite. And I noticed something else. A faint golden light was pulsing from my left wrist. I lifted my hand and stared at the simple red cord tied around it. My best friend, Sara, had given it to me a few days ago. It looked like a cheap, ordinary trinket. She must have enchanted it without telling me. Sara had always been fascinated by esoteric arts, spells, and charms. It was just like her. I never imagined her little protection spell would end up hurting Steven. Frustrated, I ripped the red cord from my wrist and threw it on the floor. 3 After that night, I spent hours online, researching every summoning ritual that seemed even remotely plausible. But Steven never appeared. His brief, electrifying visit had only solidified my obsession. I had to have him back. “Kayla? Kayla…?” “Huh?” I snapped back to reality to find Sara standing in front of my desk. After college, we’d been lucky enough to land jobs at the same company, though in different departments. She looked at me with concern. “Kayla, what’s up with you lately? You seem a million miles away.” “Oh,” I forced a smile. “It’s nothing. Just not used to my new mattress. Haven’t been sleeping well.” Sara pinched my cheek gently and pulled a small packet from her pocket. “These ginseng slices are great. My mom sent them from back home. You can make tea with them. Good for your energy.” We’d been friends for too long to stand on ceremony. I took them with a grateful nod. I dropped a few slices into my thermos and headed to the breakroom to get some hot water. As the water filled the cup, it happened again—that familiar, heavy wave of dizziness. My head swam, and my limbs felt weak and useless. I braced myself against the counter to keep from falling, reaching out a trembling hand to turn off the tap. But another hand, appearing from nowhere, beat me to it. My heart leaped with joy. I looked up. “You finally came back.” Steven stood there, wearing the same style of robe as before, only this time it was white. His skin was even paler than the fabric, a shade no living person could possess. He glanced at my wrist, noting it was bare. In a flash, he closed the distance between us, his cold hands clamping onto my waist, his thumbs stroking my skin in slow, deliberate circles. His voice was a low, petulant murmur. “If I weren’t as powerful as I am, that little trinket of yours would have torn my soul to shreds.” Guilt washed over me. I was speechless. “I’m sorry.” It truly had been an accident. If I’d known the red cord had protective properties, I would have sooner died than wear it in his presence. He pulled me into his arms, his lips brushing against my ear. “Is a verbal apology all I get? You should show me you’re sorry… with your actions.” A tingling, electric sensation spread from my ear down my neck. It was only then that I remembered where I was. This was the office, not my home. I tried to pull away. “No… not here… my colleagues are right outside…” The breakroom door was always open. Anyone sitting nearby could see right in if they just looked up. As much as I craved him, I wasn’t ready to become an office legend. But Steven ignored my struggles. He dragged me into the small supply closet at the back of the room. “Don’t worry,” he purred. “They can’t see us in here.” He was right. People rarely came into this closet. My frantic heart began to slow, the panic giving way to a thrill of illicit excitement.
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