Voices in the Dark

Voices in the Dark


The mansion’s clock marked two in the morning. The silence seemed to suffocate the corridors, and only the pounding of Narelle’s heart reminded her she was alive. She rose slowly from the bed, careful not to wake Rhaek, who slept heavily at her side.

With each step toward the office, her mind filled with images: the kiss, the touch, the unmistakable way he made her lose control. That couldn’t be coincidence. It couldn’t be just a dream.

She sat at the desk, phone in hand. Kalil’s number was still saved, the result of recent business contacts. Her fingers trembled as she dialed.

The call took a long time to connect, and for a moment she thought of hanging up. But then, his voice cut through the line—deep, calm, with a tone that twisted her stomach.

“Narelle?”

She swallowed hard, breath short.
“Yes. It’s me.”

A heavy silence stretched, as if on the other side there was more than hesitation.

“I didn’t expect your call at this hour.” His voice was too serene, almost rehearsed.

“I needed to hear you.”

“Why?”

She closed her eyes, fighting emotion.
“Because… because when I look at you, I feel like I’m looking at the past. At something that shouldn’t be here.”

His breathing grew heavier, audible even through the phone.
“You’re confusing yourself, Narelle. The past must stay buried.”

She squeezed the phone tight.
“Don’t lie to me. The way you touched me… no one else knew. Only him. Only Kael.”

A deadly silence fell. The kind of silence that didn’t need words to become a confession.

But Kalil regained control.
“That Kael died for you. Died when he chose his own path. I am not him.”

Narelle felt tears burn her eyes.
“Then tell me. Who are you? Who hides behind this mask?”

On the other side, the sound of heavy breathing, almost like a painful sigh.
“I’m just a man who shouldn’t be answering this call. A man who shouldn’t hear your voice, because it reminds me of who I was. And I can’t be that again. I’m not that Kael.”

Her throat closed, but the question slipped out in a desperate whisper:
“Why can’t you be him again?”

Kalil remained silent, but the answer came in the pain carried by his voice:
“Good night, Narelle.”

The line went dead.

Narelle stared at the phone, heart torn apart. There was no admission, but there was no denial either. He hadn’t said “Kael.” But he’d said enough for doubt to harden into certainty.

And now, more than ever, Narelle knew she would go to the end to uncover the truth.

The Reunion in Dubai

The luxury suite in Dubai had become na arena of desire. The air conditioner fought against the heat of two bodies burning hotter than any desert.

Kalil held Narelle’s wrists above her head, muscles tense, as he thrust into her slowly, torturing her with each advance and retreat. His eyes locked on hers cut her deeper than the movement itself.

“Say what you feel…” he murmured, voice hoarse, almost a command.

“I… I can’t…” she panted, trying to resist, but her body betrayed her.

He released her only to flip her onto her stomach, the dress long forgotten on the floor. Narelle’s hair spilled in waves across the sheets. Kalil gripped her waist, her hips raised, and entered her again, deep, until a muffled scream tore out of her.

Each thrust was harder, wilder. The bed slammed against the wall. Moans echoed without shame. She begged, pleaded, and he didn’t stop until her body spasmed, climax after climax, leaving her no time to breathe.

When he pulled her back on top of him, Narelle rode like she was possessed, hips moving with fury, breasts bouncing, sweat sliding between them. Kalil watched her with a cruel smile, savoring each exposed weakness.

“You are my slave here, as you always were, Kael’s slave,” he growled against her ear, driving her to move faster.

She came again, trembling all over, but he gave no rest. He laid her on her side, spread her legs wide, and slid his wet fingers in ruthless, precise strokes, until she screamed in pleasure, begging to stop—yet craving more.

Hours blurred in a haze of ravenous kisses, tangled limbs, sweat and endless moans. Narelle no longer knew where she ended and he began. Torn between past and present, between Rhaek and Kael, between Kalil and the man she feared to name.

When silence finally fell, she was limp in his arms, exhausted, the sheets stained with repeated pleasure. Kalil caressed her trembling skin, his gaze both intense and calculated.

“Stay a few days,” he said firmly. “I want to prove I’m not Kael. I want you to understand that the man making you lose your mind today is not a memory—it’s reality. It’s me. Kalil.”

Narelle didn’t answer. Her lips parted, her heart racing. Reason screamed Rhaek—her life, her choice. But her body… her body knew the truth she had never forgiven: no man had ever made her explode like Kael.

And now, the same touch, the same taste, the same fury condemned her all over again.

She stayed silent. She knew she had crossed a line from which there was no return.
...

The night was still heavy when Kalil rose from the bed. His body, marked with sweat and her scent, carried no weight beyond his satisfied desire. As he buttoned his white shirt, the coldness in his eyes contrasted with the heat still burning in Narelle.

“I need to go. My wife is waiting for me at home,” he said without hesitation, as if she were nothing but a pause along the way.

The words cut like blades into Narelle’s heart. She shrank beneath the sheets, feeling like nothing. Nothing but something he used. Nothing but someone who let herself be used.

Kalil chuckled low, stepping closer again. His firm hand squeezed her breast, thumb teasing her hardened nipple, mocking her vulnerability.

“Don’t think you’re special. My wife is better than you in bed,” he whispered, letting the poison drip. “But your cunt… ah, that’s hotter, more enticing. It doesn’t make you better, only different.”

Narelle wanted to cry, wanted to scream, but her body betrayed her every emotion. It pulsed, throbbed, begged for him again. What spell was this? She, who had sworn never to bow, now felt vulgar, idiotic, a prostitute in a foreign land.

To protect herself, she tried to rationalize. It can’t be Kael, she told herself. If it were, he would surrender to the love we shared, not crush my heart underfoot.

The name slipped from her lips like a sigh:
“Luxor… forgive me.”

Kalil looked at her, pretending not to know.
“Who?”

“My son.”

He arched a brow, unfazed, and fired back:
“I’m happy too. I have three wonderful little wolves. They are my pride.”

Narelle’s insides twisted. Not only had she betrayed Rhaek, but also distanced herself from Luxor, the son she carried in every memory. She was here, giving herself to a stranger who stripped her of what little dignity she had left.

Kalil finished dressing calmly. Before slipping on his shoes, he turned to her one last time.

“Spread your legs.”

She stared, incredulous.

“I want to see you touch yourself. I want to see you come just because I ordered it.”

Narelle’s pride wavered. But her body obeyed. She lay back, parted her thighs, and slid her hand between them. The wet sounds filled the room, moans escaping against her will. His eyes, cold and sharp, drank in every tremor, every gasp, every strangled cry of pleasure.

When the orgasm tore through her, it felt like a sentence passed. He smiled, satisfied.

“Now get dressed. The hotel bill is already paid.”

And he left, abandoning her alone.

Narelle lay in silence, staring at the golden ceiling of the luxury suite. For the first time in years, she didn’t recognize herself. She was no longer the fierce female who defied Alphas. No longer the wolf who once despised Kael.

She was just a broken woman, panting, stripped of pride.

And she hated how much she still desired him.