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When 23-year-old Luna disappears without a trace, the world believes she’s dead. But her spirit lingers, tethered between life and death—and only one man can see her.

John Carter has been cursed with the ability to see ghosts ever since the tragic death of his twin sister at age ten. Haunted by her spirit and the ridicule of a world that called him crazy, John turned his curse into a mission: help the lost find justice.

But nothing prepared him for Luna.

As Luna’s memories return in disturbing flashes, John pieces together a string of horrific murders linked by surgical precision and eerie identity swaps. All the clues point to one man: Dr. Elias Voss, a disgraced surgeon turned psychopath known only to the media as The Sculptor. His twisted obsession with “fixing” lives has left a trail of mangled corpses and swapped identities—all hidden beneath the surface of society.

Luna is not dead. Not yet. Her body is alive—trapped in a medically-induced coma, hidden somewhere in the depths of Voss’s secret lair. And time is running out.

Together, John and Luna must outwit a brilliant, deranged killer who has turned human lives into his art. But the deeper they go, the more blurred the lines between life, death, and madness become.

Can they bring Voss to justice before Luna’s tether to life snaps forever?

Or will they become his final masterpiece?

A Psycho's path

**Chapter Thirteen: The Fractured Embrace**

Luna woke to the scent of antiseptic and the low hum of machinery.

The room was dim, curtains drawn, the only light a pale glow from the heart monitor beside her. Hospital. Again.

But this time, she wasn't strapped to a table.

John sat slumped in the chair beside her bed, his coat draped over his shoulders like a blanket, his head bowed in exhausted sleep. His knuckles were bruised, his jaw shadowed with stubble. He hadn't left.

Something twisted in Luna's chest—something warmer than the cold that still lingered there.

She reached out, her fingers brushing his.

He startled awake instantly, his hand reflexively closing around hers. His grip was rough, calloused, *real.* For a second, they just stared at each other, the weight of everything unsaid heavy between them.

Then John exhaled, his thumb tracing the back of her hand in a slow, unthinking caress. "You scared the hell out of me."

Luna's throat tightened. She remembered the way the cold had taken her, the way the lost souls had whispered through her. The way she'd *liked* it.

"I'm not sure what I am anymore," she admitted quietly.

John's gaze didn't waver. "You're Luna."

She almost laughed. "Is that enough?"

He leaned forward, his free hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. The touch was hesitant, as if he feared she might break. Or disappear. "It is for me."

The moment stretched, fragile and charged.

A nurse stepped in, her smile polite but strained. "Ah, you're awake. Good." Her eyes flicked to John, then away just as quickly. "The doctor will want to speak with you, Miss…?"

Luna hesitated. She didn't remember her last name.

John answered for her. "Lane. Luna Lane."

The nurse nodded, jotting it down before leaving them alone again.

Luna swallowed. "You didn't have to do that."

John's thumb stilled against her skin. When he spoke, his voice was low, rough with something that wasn't quite anger. "Because I'm tired of losing people to him."

Luna understood. This wasn't just about her.

It was about all the ones who came before.

She turned her hand in his, interlacing their fingers. "I'm still here."

John's breath hitched. For a second, she thought he might pull away.

Instead, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a single, searing kiss to her knuckles. It wasn't gentle. It was *desperate.* A vow. A plea.

When he met her eyes again, his gaze burned. "Stay that way."

The cold inside her stirred, whispering, but for once, it wasn't the only thing she felt.

And the next time he came, she might not be able to tell where *he* ended…

A face—*her* face—smiled from within the tank.

And somewhere, in the space between breaths, Elias Voss laughed.

The fractured embrace