Chapter 34 Just a Voice in the Dark
JUST A VOICE IN THE DARK
Andrik POV- (five minutes earlier.)
I wake to the scent of her pleasure.
For a second, I think she's in bed with me. That I'm dreaming. But the sheets are cold.
My hands frantically claw at empty blankets—she’s gone.
My pulse spikes, frost blossoms across the bedroom walls.
“Tyrian—” she whimpers.
My head snaps to the bathroom door.
The bond burns through my chest like godfire, flooding my senses with her—her gasps, her pleasure, the taste of her moans on my tongue.
Who's touching her?
I crash through the door like a beast set ablaze. The door splinters under my force. Wood cracks, the hinges scream, crystal webs explode under my hooves.
I can't thrahking breathe in here, her scent is everywhere. It’s thick, cloying, and every breath I take makes it worse.
She's slumped in the tub, shaking, lips parted, hands still between her thighs, water still sloshing around her.
Her eyes fly open, but they’re empty of understanding.
I step toward her, and her body jolts upright. The words rip straight from my throat:
“Who the thrahk is Tyrian?”
“Huh?” A small crease appears between her brows as she tilts her head, her wet lashes clumped together.
I stalk forward, silent on the old wooden planks. My eyes stay locked on hers.
“You heard me, Lumi.” My voice crackles with something not human. “Who else was here?”
She shakes her head, stunned. “I—you? You were the only one here?”
“No,” I growl. “I wasn't.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“Don't lie to me, Lumi. Don't ever lie to me.”
I take a step toward her, and she flattens against the tub.
She's scared of me? The bond writhes in protest. Wrong. This is wrong. She should never look at me like that—like I’m a threat, not her mate. The ice spreading from my skin falters, melting at the edges as something more painful than rage takes hold.
I inhale deeply, just once, to calm myself.
There's something else in the air beneath her arousal, beneath the panic. All the warmth I gained from her before I fell asleep drains from me in a single, devastating rush.
No.
No, not that.
My eyes fall back to the tub. Water still swirls around her thighs, cloudy and disturbed. The sweet scent curls like a ribbon through the air, unmistakable to any Rhavari.
“Gods,” I breathe. “You... you let him bring you to peak?”
I stagger back a step, barely breathing. The beast thrashes beneath my skin like a caged animal. My knees struggle to hold my weight.
No, not just release. Vaelis’thrae.
That kind of release doesn’t just happen. It can’t be forced or faked. The soul has to yield. The body has to forget every wall, every fear, every safeguard. It’s what happens when a mate feels so safe, so utterly trusting, that they open themselves completely through the bond.
Most mated pairs don’t reach it for months... some never do.
And she just gave it to a voice in the dark. Someone who wasn’t me.
My hands curl into fists at my sides. I stare at her, but I can’t thrahking move.
She's still panting. I hear every. single. labored. breath.
Her skin is flushed pink, still glowing from the aftermath.
She would give him this?
I’ve waited for her. Held back. Never touched another in hopes that one day she would find me and be my first and only. And she...
Claws sink into my palms, blood wells hot against the frost spreading uncontrollably from my skin.
“You've never—” I clench my jaw. “You vaelis’thrae... for him?”
Her brows furrow, “What... what does that mean?”
She flinches, but I’m already moving. I stalk closer to the edge of the tub, towering over her.
My shadow swallows her whole.
“For him?” I repeat.
“Andrik, ” her voice is smaller than usual. “I—I didn’t know. I thought it was you—”
“I would’ve earned that, Lumi. I would’ve waited a thousand more winters if it meant I got to earn that part of you.”
I grip the edge of the tub until it creaks under my hands.
“That sound you made at the end? That broken, beautiful cry?”
I press a hand to my chest.
“I felt it in my soul.”
She wraps her arms around her chest.
Is she hiding herself from me?
She turns her head, not meeting my gaze. Like my eyes don’t belong on her anymore, like I'm no longer worthy of her bare skin.
My throat tightens.
Does she not want me now that he has touched a part of her I’ve only worshipped from afar?
“You were talking to me.” Her voice cracks. “Outside the tub. You told me to—” She cuts off, jaw trembling. “You told me to keep my eyes closed. That you wanted to play a game.”
Ice spreads faster now, splintering the light above the mirror until glass shatters, cascading over the vanity.
“I wasn’t in here, Lumi.” The words come out quietly. “I was asleep in our bed. Where you left me.”
“But—” She glances toward the window. The one I can now see is cracked open. I cross the room in two strides and slam it shut. Traced in the fogged glass are two initials—
L + T.
My vision flashes red. Thal’kar veyn ves morath. (I will hunt him to the ends of the earth.)
I take a breath. Then another, before I walk back to her.
“Lumi.” My voice is hoarse. “I need you to tell me exactly what happened.”
She shakes her head, pulling her knees to her chest. “I don’t—I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please,” the word cracks out of me. “I need to understand.”
Silence stretches between us.
“You won’t even tell me?” I croak. “You’d rather keep his secrets than tell your mate?”
“That’s not—” She cuts herself off again, wrapping herself tighter.
“I can tell you’re outraged right now. I’m trying not to push you into doing anything you’ll regret later.”
Something I’d regret? Does she think I’d hurt her?
I reach for her hand, but she flinches away.
The realization guts me.
I’m terrifying her. The one person in all my years I swore I’d never frighten. And here I am—fangs bared, claws out, over twice her size.
“Lumi,” My voice cracks. “Do you think I would—”
I can’t even finish the question. Acid rolls through my chest.
“I would never, ever hurt you,” the words come out barely above a whisper. “No matter what you tell me. No matter what happened. Never.”
I drop to my knees, trying to make myself as small as possible. Anything to appear less threatening
She eyes me warily before her gaze falls back to the water. Clearly, she still isn’t convinced it’s safe to tell me.
“Look at me, Sael?n. Please”
Her eyes lift slowly.
“It really wasn’t you?" she whispers.
“No,” I choke out.
“What did he sound like?” I ask, keeping my voice controlled. “The voice, how similar was it to mine?”
“It was your voice, Andrik,” she swallows. “Even some of the vraks?n words you use. He called me Sael?n, talked about my heat... said he wanted to help.”
My jaw clenches so hard a tooth cracks. It has to be some kind of dark magic.
“Did he say anything that didn’t sound like me?”
Her eyes dart away, and she backs to the opposite side of the tub.
“Can—” Her voice trembles. “Can you go over there before I tell you?” She points to the furthest wall.
Her request hits me like a physical blow.
She needs distance from me to feel safe enough to speak.
I swallow hard and nod once.
I move to the wall she indicated, pressing my back firmly against the cool wood, as far as this small room allows.
“Okay,” I rasp. “I’m here. Tell me.”
“There were things...” she breaks off. “Things that were different. The way you—he touched me with his voice.”
“What does that mean?”
“You don’t usually talk to me like that. I thought maybe it was just because of my heat. That you were... different.” Her cheeks flush. “The words he used—you don’t say them.”
I go still.
“What words?”
“You always speak in Vraks?n when things start getting intense. Most of the time, I don’t even know what you’re saying. But he—”
“But he what?”
“He used words that I could understand. The kind that...”
She stops herself.
I force myself to stay against the wall with every ounce of strength I possess.
“The kind that what?”
She avoids my eyes.
“So you liked it.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not saying that. I thought it was you. That’s why—”
“But you liked it.” My voice hardens. “And I’ve never spoken to you like that.”
She doesn’t deny it. That’s the worst part.
Something frays in my chest. My lungs pull tight, like roots strangling themselves. I feel the shift cracking under my ribs.
“I never wanted to scare you,” I say softly. “Not with the way I spoke. Not with the way I touched you.”
My claws dig into my thighs.
“I thought... if I held back, if I let the bond settle slowly, it would give you space to choose me freely. To feel in control.”
The words scrape up my throat like gravel.
“I honored you.”
She looks over at me, wide-eyed.
“I could’ve taken you against that wall the first night you slept here,” I stutter, voice shaking. “I could’ve bent you over that tub a hundred times since, but I waited. I thought waiting meant something.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“Do you know what that means for my kind, Lumi? It’s unheard of for a mated pair to wait an hour to consummate the bond—and we’re not just bonded, we’re soulbonded. Picked for each other by divinity itself. And still, I fought every ounce of my biology to keep you safe.”
She opens her mouth. Then closes it.
“I would've spoken any filth you wanted,” I murmur. “Would've defiled the gods in every tongue I know just to hear you fall apart like that for me.”
My jaw ticks, barely holding it together.
“Tell me, Lumi. What else did he say?”
She blinks.
“What do you mean?”
“What were the words?” I whisper. “The ones that I don't give to you.”
She stares at me like I've grown a second head.
“Let me hear it,” I rasp. “Let me hear what you want from me.”
She doesn’t answer, so I kneel. Back pressed to the wall, like a penitent beast, palms splayed against the floor to keep myself grounded.
“I’ll speak it in whatever language you want,” I urge. “If it means I get to be the one you fall for next time.”