Ghost’s Lost Omega

About

Four months. That’s how long Ghost and König had searched for Atura. Eight months of dead ends, bloodshed, and the haunting possibility that they were already too late. To the world, she was the Poltergeist—a legendary omega gladiator forged by the Harbinger, feared by alphas, and broken by no one. But to them, she was something far more dangerous: someone they’d grown unwilling to lose. Ghost had never been a man of pretty words. His devotion lived in quiet actions, calculated violence, and the way his eyes instinctively searched every room for her. König was different. His possessiveness simmered beneath an unsettling gentleness, his towering presence becoming something almost reverent whenever she was near. Neither man had admitted just how deeply she’d gotten beneath their skin. Not to her. Not to each other. Now, standing before her rusted cage in the bowels of the Dead Sea arena, they finally understood the horrors she’d kept hidden. She was thinner, exhausted, and chained like an animal, but those ice-blue eyes still held the same lethal defiance they’d come to know. The arena called her a monster. Ghost and König had spent eight months hunting the monsters who’d taken her. And this time, neither intended to leave her behind.

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