Ride or Die

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Welcome to Ride or Die! Be forewarned, this is a short story regarding a paranormal blend and some romantical aspects along with a self discovery arc. It serves equally the size of a novella, slightly shorter. I wrote it because I enjoy the folklore involving the mythical Wild Hunt and because it also serves as a prequel to an original story I had self published only to delist for too many reasons. This is more or so a test to see what works versus what doesn't work for a larger picture. This is mature for implied themes, death and attempted suicide plus it's set as adult.

Nothing worth it is ever easy. I'm looking forward to writing more for this particular lore when I dive into it (when my heart's in it). Shoot me with the feedback but don't be overly harsh (there's already too much hatred in the world).

Copyright © 2026 by Madaline Clifton. All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or places is purely coincidental.

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Golden Hour, Georgia is humid, gentle and as golden as the name sounds. Tourists from all around the world pop in to stroll the sidewalks of places like Grave Danger, the Celtic Geek and so many more nerdy things. The southern city is said to be haunted, overflowing with ghosts—nothing but sheer rumors that most folk opted to ignore. One evening would change the belief of the majority of the people roaming the streets.

“Have you seen Fiona?” Zoey Bicondova asks her boyfriend of about three years, arms wrapped snugly around her slim shoulders. Her hazel green eyes bounced all over the streets of downtown Golden Hour in search of her older sister.

“I haven't seen Fin. She was meant to meet us to discuss the history of Golden Hour. Wasn't she?” Caleb Lahey asks with searing blue eyes bouncing to meet the jungle green of Zoey. He sends the twenty nine year old a soft smile, having always fancied her.

Zoey bites the inside of her cheek. She tugs out her phone, casting a glance at her messages. “No word from her.”

“Did she mention what was so urgent to meet her in a crowded downtown Golden Hour?” Caleb is scanning the crowd on high alert while his blue eyes briefly glow a golden shade. His family were descendants from the great werecat, most of the southern folks didn't talk about.

“Ghost apocalypse.” Zoey tightly replied, feeling the tension become the love of her life. Her chocolate brown curls brush her sun-drenched arms. Furrowing her eyebrows at the six foot one, brunette, she waits on a response from the older guy. “Does that mean something to you?”

“Well, sweetheart, a ghost apocalypse isn't good. Especially for the non-believers.” Caleb remarks, loosening his grip on her shoulder, dropping it down by his side. Short, dark brown, ruffled curls, jaw clenched—the grown werecat shakes his head.

Zoey had always been a believer in the mythical, magical creatures of the unspoken universe. If she didn't have her belief in magic then the southerner would have nothing whatsoever. Her full, dark pink lips purse. “Babe, what aren't you telling me?”

Caleb stuck one hand in the pocket of his baggy jeans, slowly nodding his head as if to confirm that he hadn't fully told her much of the ghostly world. He tugged at the collar of his thin, white-blue hoodie. “A ghost apocalypse wouldn't be a good thing for the human world, Zo. It means exactly how it sounds. The end of the world.”

“Is that necessarily a bad thing?” Zoey questions, softly snorting when Caleb groans, extending a hand to her shoulder. It had been three years with nothing more for her to lose. Her heart beat for the man she had been loyal to. “Speaking of, Caleb…”

“Zoey, you are my world. I love you…I’m in love with you. I think we should get married.” Caleb proposed, allowing the brunette to trail off, catching the joy burst to life in her eyes.

Zoey threw her arms around him upon pushing herself onto her toes, kissing Caleb. “I love you more than life itself. We definitely should get married.”

“Your family has become my extended family. They act close enough to be my own.” Caleb chuckled through her kisses, pressing his hands into her backside, feeling the warmth spread between them.

Zoey couldn't have been happier. She could lie and say nothing would ruin the moment, aware of the untruths within the daft idea. She fell flat onto her brown cowgirl boots, brushing her fingertips down her olive green tank top, over gray denim shorts. “Fin thinks of you like the older brother she doesn't want.”

“After we ditch the ghosts from Golden Hour then we should totally tie the knot.” Caleb eagerly chirps, gaining a nod of the head from the hazel eyed woman. He was handsome for someone inching closer to his forties.

Zoey sighed, gingerly agreeing with the guy who wasn't from Golden Hour…or any part of Georgia. “Caleb, you mean the world to me. No one else could make my life better. Now, how do we stop this ghost apocalypse?”

“There's a Goddess…” Caleb opens his mouth, not missing when Zoey deflates from those three words. He trails off, sharply gulping, nonchalantly shrugging. “It's nothing kinky, Zo. Don't look at me like I'm the devil incarnate.”

“Aren't you secretly the devil incarnate?” Zoey softly jokes, shaking her head. “What Goddess?”

“Selene Nightraven is the Goddess of Moonlight and Affection. You need to—” Caleb is about to suggest when Zoey vigorously shakes her head in disagreement.

“No.” Zoey gives a sharp reply. She knows exactly who Selene Nightraven is; not wanting to get into contact with the one person who is her former childhood best friend. She hadn't spoken to the twenty nine year old born in the early days of August since they were in middle school. “I haven't spoken to her since middle school—before we knew anything about the world of magic.”

“Zoey, you need to make contact with Selene if nothing else.” Caleb softly murmurs like he was going to get the young woman to change her mind. He's doing what he can to convince Zoey to speak to the one person who could throw off the incoming ghost apocalypse.

Fiona Bicondova cast her sea green eyes around the folk in downtown Golden Hour, Georgia in a frenzy, attempting to locate the two people she needed to converse with. Her panic nearly overthrew her until…she finally caught sight of Zoey and Caleb. “FOOLS!”

Zoey scoffed at the daft name her sister shouts across the sea of people, brushing her ears, gently gripping her. She frowns. “Fin?”

“Do you see her?” Caleb asks, gathering a hand gesture from Zoey, meaning to wait as she begins to slip from his grip.

Gliding through the sea of unmoving, frozen folk, Zoey barely takes note, stumbling into Fiona who tugs her across the town line from Golden Hour into Silver Cove, Georgia. She grimaced. “What's with the popping?”

“Zo?” Fiona hugs Zoey, soon releasing her younger sister. She brushed her honey waves from her face, drinking in the baffled state of Zoey. She gestures to the town line, accompanied by a few familiar and unfamiliar faces. “We are going to have to salt and burn, Golden Hour since you evidently didn't find a solution.”

“Salt and burn, Golden Hour?” Zoey poses the question before the heartclenching truth could squeeze the joy right from her heart. Her eyes proceed to dart to the southern city, feeling her heart shatter. Had she lost the love of her life who didn't seem bothered by her disappearing act?

“We don't need the ghosts from Golden Hour seeping into Silver Cove.” The deep, southern drawl from Ben Rife broke her thoughts as the tall, lean, faired complected ginger hangs all over Fiona.

Fiona groaned, shoving his hand from her shoulder. “Benjamin is right, Zoey. We cannot afford for the ghosts to seep into Silver Cove or the rest of the world.”

“Once a ghost gets a foothold in the world…” Another male voice…belonging to a well dressed, tuxedo clad Spellcaster clears his throat, trailing off. He was a handsome, olive complected man with blue gray eyes and short, dark hair with fresh stubble brewing. His name is Kit Hodges. “The rest of the world becomes a slave to the malicious intent sent to us by the Underworld.”

Zoey begins to massage the temples of her forehead, casting doubt towards Caleb Lahey—the one who made things gentler in a cold hearted, broken world. “Is Caleb dead or is he simply with me to uncover whatever mystery this is?”

Kit clears his throat. “You were once a cozy couple. Got engaged moments prior to…”

Fiona coughed in order to stop the man short. She shakes her head at Kit. “Zoey, he accompanied you to figure it out but died when his body was split by The Human Ripper.”

Zoey snorts, eyeing her older sister. “You are bad at creative names. Won't rely on your judgement.”

“Listen, Zoey, our only option is to salt then burn Golden Hour. It's apparently the only way to rid the ghosts from the world. We would have come prepared—” Kit mused, casting a weary glance towards Ben.

“I suggested we bring you up to speed. It wouldn't have done any good to accidentally burn Zoey alive.” Ben groaned aloud, tired of explaining himself to Kit and Fiona.

Taking a deep breath, Zoey cast her hazel green eyes to Caleb. She would have been better off not knowing the truth surrounding them. Her shoulders shake with unease. “Why didn't you fools let me die with him? He was…is…the love of my life.”

“He's dead, Zoey.” Kit practically hissed, gathering a sharp glare from the young woman. He's been to Hell, back and several different plains before stumbling into the lives of the Nightraven and Bicondova clans. He thought they were all as sharp as unwitty tacks—too fond of Zoey for his own liking.

“I don't care that he's dead. We were going to marry with a life to plan out together.” Zoey groaned, shaking her head at Kit who groaned.

“You could have a life with anyone, Zoey. It doesn't stop with Caleb or any loser…” Kit overstepped, trailing off when the flaring nostrils of Zoey were enough to stop him short.

Fiona scowled at the handsome man. “Are you trying to make things worse, Kristoff? Not everyone can brush off the fact that the love of their life died.”

“Caleb mentioned Selene Nightraven is the key to stopping the ghost apocalypse. I'm going home.” Zoey grumbled, not so thrilled to be forced to work on a group setting. It's official—she needs her space.

“Zoey, wait!” Ben shouted, falling as he went to grab her shoulder.

Rolling her eyes, Fiona wandered off after Zoey, shooting both men a dirty glance. “Start preparing to burn Golden Hour to the ground. I'm going to see about my sister.”

Zoey Bicondova wound up in the Hodges Manor where she was staying with Fiona due to the fact that their house in Golden Hour had been overthrown by shadows controlled by Chester Nightraven. She was burning mad with red rage, shaking her head while throwing herself face first onto the pillows of the silk, black clad sheeted, queen sized bed. “Fin, go away!”

“Zo, I need to speak to you.” Fiona softly spoke, having walked all the way back to the Hodges Manor in hot pursuit of her sister. She didn't want to wait until later when she would have no time to comfort the one person who needed it.

Sighing, Zoey buried her face in the pillows, yearning to return to who she was before the ghost apocalypse came to fruition. She couldn't explain to anyone how or why it began, yearning to unravel the mystery. “I can't hear it, right now, Fin.”

“When do you want to hear it then, Zoey? I'll be here all year.” Fiona snorts, chuckling to stop herself from cracking a terrible joke.

Zoey did more than huff at the half baked question brought to her by her sister. “Fin, can we discuss this later? Please?”

“Fine, Zoey. If we don't talk about it before too much later then worse things could be in the works.” Fiona gently quips, gaining a hefty sigh from Zoey on the other side of the bedroom door. She could wait to ambush her sister with words of wisdom, choosing to do the opposite and give Zoey her space for the time being. She would annoy her younger sister later.