The Ghosts We Carry

Callum's back pressed into the mattress, the cool sheets a stark contrast to the fire blazing beneath his skin. Willow hovered over him, her red curls spilling around her face, her lips curled into a confident smirk. 

Nathan knelt at the foot of the bed with his head bowed, awaiting orders Callum supposed. The sight of him—so broad, so powerful, yet completely submissive—sent a ripple of intrigue through Callum's chest. 

Willow's nails dragged lightly down Callum's chest, teasing the sensitive skin beneath the thin trail of hair. "Do you trust me, Mr. Pierce?" she purred, her voice dripping with dominance. 

Callum swallowed hard, his pulse pounding in his ears. "I'm here, aren't I?" 

Her smirk deepened, and she snapped her fingers at Nathan. Her boyfriend stood up and came over to bow beside her. "Yes, ma'am?"

She brought his face closer with her finger and kissed him. An involuntary moan escaped Callum's lips. The thrill of it all had him by the neck. Willow had him firmly pinned to the bed but he was eager to actively participate in whatever they had in store from him.

Willow pulled away from Nathan and smirked when she noticed Callum squirm. She leaned down, her breath hot against Callum's ear. "You're so eager," she whispered, nipping marks into his neck. "I love that. But, you see, Callum, I have a policy."

Callum slid his hands up her thighs. "Policy?"

She placed her hands on his and slid them right off. "If you want me, you have to earn me."

Callum resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, she was that kind of too, a domme through and through. He could practically see the sadistic little thoughts running through her head. She wanted him to work for his pleasure, to beg for it. Callum didn't mind at all. Working for it only made the payoff more rewarding.

"And how do I do that?" He asked calmly, raising a brow.

That was the right response. Defying all impossibilities, Willow's smirk became a smile and she climbed off him, lightly brushing his balls and making him jump as she did. He could feel the pool of wetness she'd left in the spot she was sitting in and that only fuelled his hunger the more. When he got the chance to taste from the source…

Nathan appeared in his line of vision with a bundle of rope and Callum was forced to focus again.

"Nathan is going to restrain you now, any complaints?" 

Callum allowed himself to relax further into the bed, smiling up at the wolves staring at him hungrily. "No complaints at all."

Nathan's eyes flickered with barely restrained hunger as he took Callum's hands and raised them high above his head. His rope work was skilful, fast; the work of man with experience. In no time at all, Callum was bound to the bed, unable to move his hands more than an inch away from the stiff, wooden headboard. And his legs… Willow was spreading them open for her boyfriend.

"Nathan's satisfaction is my satisfaction," she explained like it was just another fact of life. "If you can make him happy, you'll get to me."

Callum took in Nathan's broad shoulders, the ripples of his abs, the sharp V-cut of his waist that disappeared into a pair of grey boxers that he hadn't gotten to taking off yet but still outlined the girth of his dick.

"I don't think that'll be a problem," he breathed.

Willow laughed. "The only one allowed to peg my boyfriend is me, Mr. Pierce."

Callum was seriously regretting revealing his surname now. "Could we keep the 'Mr. Pierce's' to a minimum? That's what they call my dad."

Nathan's tongue left a trail of fire down his abdomen as he slid down, that same pink tongue darted out to graze the tip of Callum's cock. "I'll call you whatever you want if you earn it," he murmured before wrapping his lips around Callum's head.

Callum's eyes fell shut and a deep moan escaped his throat as Nathan's skilful tongue pushed him to the back of the man's throat. He itched to bury his hands in the man's hair and give him his full length. And this was probably why his hands were tied, why he was rendered helpless while the couple had their way with him. This was a negotiation. He wasn't going to get what he wanted until he gave what he had.

"Oh fuck," he gasped as Nathan's hands traced over his thighs.

"He hasn't even done anything yet," Willow said and Callum was reminded that she was there. Watching the two men go at it. 

Another moan found its way into his throat, Willow's lips moved down his chest and something shifted. 

A face flickered in his mind—not Willow's, not Nathan's, but Ashur's. Ashur, smiling up at him from his knees, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead, his mouth finding Caelan's body. He always took his time with the tip. He loved taking his time; loved tempting Caelan until the prince was made mad with hunger. 

Callum sucked in a sharp breath and pulled at his restraints as Nathan took him in deeper. He sees Ashur, laughing as they lay tangled in the hay of the royal stables. Ashur, lifeless in his arms, his body cold and still. 

The memories steal the breath from Callum's lungs. 

Not here. Not now.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the thoughts to go away. But they only make way for another; Edric smirking at him, beckoning him over even as he teases a servant's nipples. This is how he remembered Edric had a thing for lavish orgies.

Callum's stomach churned. The heat that had burned through him moments ago was now a cold pit of dread. 

"Stop," he blurted, his voice rough and unsteady. 

Willow paused, her brows furrowing in confusion. "What's wrong?" 

"I—" Callum scrambled to sit up, but his hands were quite literally tied. Much to his relief, Nathan straightened, concern flickering in his eyes, and started undoing his restraints. His chest heaved as panic clawed at his throat. "I can't do this. I'm sorry." 

"Callum—" 

But Callum was already off the bed, grabbing for his pants and shirt. His hands trembled as he struggled to pull them on, his mind racing with a chaotic mix of shame and confusion. 

"Callum, wait," Willow said, her voice softer now. "Are you okay?" 

He shook his head, unable to meet her gaze. "I… I just need to go." 

Ignoring their calls of concern, Callum staggered out of the hotel room, his heart pounding as he hurried down the hallway. His legs moved on instinct, his thoughts a jumble of shame and regret. He couldn't breathe—couldn't think past the image of Ashur's lifeless eyes and Edric's smirk. He felt disgusting, filthy, like he'd betrayed something sacred.

Why did he think it would be a good idea to do something like this?

Because you're in love with Micah Liu and can't come to terms with the fact that he might not love you back.

Because the sun has set on your relationship and you can't rely on the 'we used to be lovers' card to make it rise again.

He's going to die and there's nothing you can do about it.

The cool night air hit him as he stumbled out of the hotel and back toward the club. The chatter of drunk patrons sounded like a static to his ears. His head hurt. His head always hurt these days. It was like a pillar had parked in his head, forever poised to slam the base of his skull whenever intense moments triggered a new memory or resurfaced the old ones.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying to steady himself. He felt like throwing up. He was going to throw up. Where the hell had he parked his car? 

He wandered through the lot, his vision swimming, until he bumped into someone. 

"Mr. Pierce?" 

Callum blinked, the familiar voice pulling him from his haze. He looked up to see Genesis standing there, her eyes wide with shock. 

"Genesis," he mumbled, his voice slurred with exhaustion. And then the world tilted, and everything went black. 

---

When Callum woke, his head was pounding, and the harsh light of a streetlamp illuminated Genesis's unimpressed face. She stood over him, holding a baseball bat in one hand and a glare that could melt steel. 

"I have three questions," she said, slowly raising the bat. "Why the hell were you outside the club with your dick practically hanging out? Why were you muttering Micah's name in your sleep? And who the fuck is Ashur?" 

Callum groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Kill me now," he muttered. 

"I might," Genesis snapped, tapping the bat against her palm. "Start talking." 

Callum sat up slowly, his body aching from the awkward position he'd passed out in. "Forget it," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'll give you a raise to forget this entire night." 

Genesis's brows shot up. "You CANNOT buy my silence." Then she hesitated, her gaze narrowing. "How much of a raise are we talking here?" 

"Where am I?" Callum asked weakly, rubbing his temples. 

"My apartment."

"Can I have some Tylenol?" 

Genesis crossed her arms, the bat still clutched tightly in her hand. "Not until you explain yourself." 

Callum sighed, leaning back against the wall. He was too tired, too wrung out to argue. "Fine," he said, his voice low. "But you're not going to believe me." 

"Try me," Genesis said flatly. 

And so, with great reluctance, Callum told her.