Chapter 8 – Whispers of Fear
1232 Words
The corridors of the Darvesh estate were heavy with silence, but not the peaceful kind. It was the kind that clung to the air after a storm—the kind filled with whispers, fear, and the uneasy feeling that eyes watched from the shadows.
Ever since Seraphina had dared to challenge her husband, the servants had moved differently. They spoke in hushed tones, their gazes darting toward her only when they thought she wouldn’t notice. The air itself seemed to hum with gossip.
She caught fragments of it in passing—words that cut sharper than any blade.
“Did you hear? He broke the last one’s spirit before the month was over.”
“Be careful what you say—walls have ears here.”
“They say the master keeps secrets locked in the east wing. Rooms no one’s allowed to enter.”
Seraphina pretended not to hear. But once words are loosed into the air, they cannot be un-heard. They burrow into the mind, nesting there, whispering doubts and fears that grow louder in the dark.
That night, as she walked through the long marble corridor toward her chamber, her footsteps echoed hollowly. The torches flickered against the ancient stone, throwing restless shadows that seemed to move on their own.
She paused near the grand staircase when she saw two maids standing near the servants’ hall, their heads close together. They froze the moment they noticed her.
“My lady,” one of them stammered, bowing quickly. “Forgive us, we didn’t see you there.”
“What were you whispering about?” Seraphina asked gently.
The older maid shook her head, eyes downcast. “Nothing, my lady. Only the day’s duties.”
Seraphina’s gaze softened. “You don’t have to lie. I’ve heard the whispers since the day I arrived.”
The younger maid’s lips trembled. “Then you know… that the master can be—”
“Enough,” the older one hissed, gripping her arm. “Do not speak such things.”
But Seraphina stepped closer. “Please. Tell me.”
The two exchanged a fearful glance. Then, with a hesitant breath, the younger maid whispered, “They say Lord Kael’s first marriage ended in tragedy. That his wife tried to run away and was never seen again.”
Seraphina felt her stomach twist. “Never seen again?”
“They say she angered him,” the girl continued, voice quivering. “That the beast inside him couldn’t be controlled.”
“Silence!” the older maid snapped, eyes wide with fear. “You’ll doom us all with your tongue.”
The two scurried off, leaving Seraphina standing alone in the dim corridor, the echo of their words haunting her.
She returned to her chamber, her thoughts restless. Could it be true? Kael had never spoken of any marriage before her—never spoken of much at all, in truth. His past was a fortress of locked doors, and she had been forbidden to ask questions.
But now, curiosity and dread warred within her.
She went to the balcony, the night air cool against her flushed skin. The moon hung heavy above the gardens, silvering the marble statues below. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a wolf howl—a lonely, mournful sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
The door creaked behind her. “You shouldn’t wander alone at night.”
His voice. Deep, low, impossible to mistake.
Seraphina turned, her heartbeat quickening. Kael stood in the doorway, shadows clinging to his tall frame like a cloak. His eyes gleamed in the half-light—predator’s eyes.
“I wasn’t wandering,” she said quietly. “I was thinking.”
He stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “About what?”
“The whispers,” she answered before she could stop herself.
A muscle in his jaw tightened. “What whispers?”
“About you. About the wife you had before me.”
The air between them grew thick, dangerous. For a moment, she thought he might actually deny it. But instead, Kael crossed the room and poured himself a glass of wine, his movements slow and deliberate.
“People in this house talk too much,” he said finally.
“Then it’s true?” she pressed.
His eyes flicked to hers. “It’s none of your concern.”
“It is my concern,” she said, stepping forward. “If I’m to share your home—your life—then I have a right to know what kind of man I’ve been bound to.”
He turned to face her fully then, his gaze hard as obsidian. “You want to know what kind of man I am, Seraphina?”
Her breath caught, but she refused to look away. “Yes.”
He set the glass down with a soft click, then took a slow step toward her. “I am a man who has seen betrayal in every face he’s trusted. A man who learned that mercy is a weakness others will exploit. And a man who built his walls high enough that no one—no one—can climb them.”
His voice had dropped to a near growl by the end, and though the words chilled her, there was pain there too—a depth she hadn’t expected.
“What happened to her?” she whispered.
He looked away. “She made a choice. And she paid for it.”
The answer sent a cold tremor through her.
When he looked back, the beast was gone from his eyes, replaced by something older—weariness, perhaps even regret. “Do not believe everything you hear from frightened servants,” he said quietly. “Fear breeds stories, and stories become monsters.”
“But sometimes,” Seraphina said softly, “monsters are born from truth.”
For a moment, they stood in silence, the tension between them crackling like a live wire. Then Kael stepped closer again, his hand brushing against her cheek, surprisingly tender.
“You should fear me, Seraphina,” he murmured. “It would make things easier.”
She met his gaze, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m beginning to think that’s exactly what you want—that everyone fears you, so no one has to know you.”
Kael’s hand dropped away. The faintest trace of something crossed his face—a fracture, a shadow of guilt—but it vanished as quickly as it came.
“Get some rest,” he said coldly. “It’s late.”
He turned and left without another word, the echo of his steps fading down the hall.
When the silence returned, Seraphina sank onto the edge of the bed, her hands trembling. The whispers still rang in her ears, but now, they mingled with questions that had no answers.
She looked toward the closed door.
He said to fear him.
The servants already did.
And yet, somehow, her heart refused to obey.
Because for all his cruelty, for all the darkness that clung to him like a curse, Seraphina couldn’t shake the feeling that Kael Darvesh was not the monster everyone believed—only a man who had become one to survive.
But what frightened her most was not the thought that he might be a beast.
It was the possibility that she might come to love him anyway.
- Writer
