whisper in the dark

whisper in the dark

Chapter One – Whispers in the Dark (Part Three)

The air between them was fragile, like glass ready to shatter. Elara wiped her cheeks with the back of her sleeve, embarrassed by her own tears. She hated crying in front of anyone, even this shadowed stranger who should have terrified her.

But when she risked a glance at him, Kael was not smirking, not sneering at her weakness. His face looked as though the sight of her tears had struck him somewhere deeper than flesh.

He said nothing. He only looked at her as though she had reached into his chest and touched something long dead.

The silence grew unbearable. Elara whispered, “How long have you been watching me?”

Kael’s wings shifted, uneasy. “Too long.”

The answer should have chilled her, but instead her heart beat faster—too fast. She swallowed hard. “Why?”

“Because you… called,” he said, his voice rough as broken stone. “Your dreams, your whispers, the ache in your chest. They drew me. I could not turn away.”

Her throat closed around her breath. The idea that her loneliness, her sketches, her restless yearning had reached out beyond the world—it was impossible. And yet here he stood, proof that her secret longing had not gone unheard.

“You mean… you’ve heard me?” she asked, her voice breaking.

He nodded once, slowly. “Every night.”

The tears threatened to return, hot and stinging. She turned her face away, staring at the half-burnt candle, its smoke curling upward like a prayer denied. “I thought I was only talking to myself.”

Kael’s gaze softened. “Perhaps you were. Perhaps that is why I listened.”

Her laugh was quiet, trembling. “That makes you sound less like a demon and more like… a ghost.”

His expression hardened at the word, and his wings rustled like a storm. But when he spoke, it was not with anger.

“A ghost is bound by memory,” he said. “A demon is bound by chains. Both are prisoners. Do not mistake one for freedom.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on her. She wondered what kind of chains could bind something like him—something taller than any man, stronger than the air itself. And yet the sorrow in his eyes told her the chains were real.

Her heart ached again, not with illness this time, but with a sharp pity that bordered on pain.

“Kael,” she whispered his name again, testing it, grounding herself in it. “If you’re cursed, why do you stay? Why not leave me?”

The question cut the air like a blade. For a long time, he did not answer. His jaw worked as though the truth fought against his tongue.

Finally, he said, “Because I cannot.”

She frowned, her brows knitting. “Can’t, or won’t?”

His ember eyes locked on hers, and for the first time, she saw something raw in them, stripped of armor. “Both.”

The word lodged in her chest like an arrow. She didn’t understand it fully, but she felt the truth in it, vibrating against her bones.

For a long time neither of them moved. The room was silent save for the faint ticking of the mantle clock, each second stretching unbearably.

At last, Elara leaned back against the desk, exhausted from everything her body and heart had endured tonight. Her voice was soft when she spoke again, barely more than a child’s confession.

“I don’t want to die alone.”

Her words broke something in him. She saw it—the way his body tensed, the way his wings trembled. Slowly, as though fighting against invisible chains, Kael stepped closer. His shadow fell over her, swallowing her candlelight entirely.

“You are not alone,” he said.

Her breath caught. His voice was not thunder this time, but something quieter. A promise.

She looked up at him, and the tears finally spilled over again, slipping down her cheeks unashamed. She didn’t care if he saw. She wanted him to.

And Kael, though he did not touch her, lowered himself until his face was level with hers. The faint heat of his ember eyes brushed her skin, warm and steady.

“You are not alone,” he repeated, softer this time, as though the words were meant as much for himself as for her.

Something inside Elara broke open. The loneliness she had carried for years, the quiet ache of waiting for her heart to stop, the nights spent whispering into silence—all of it rushed out at once. And though he was a demon, though his presence was shadow and sorrow, she believed him.

For the first time in her life, she believed she was not alone.

Her sobs came quiet but relentless, shaking her thin shoulders. Kael’s hands curled into fists, claws scraping against his palms as though it took all his strength not to reach for her. His wings twitched, aching to wrap around her, but he held them back.

He could not touch her again. He must not.

But when he looked at her—this fragile girl with tears shining like stars on her cheeks—he knew the truth he had tried to deny since the moment he spoke her name.

She was already bound to him.

And in the deepest, most cursed part of his soul, he realized he did not want to break that bond.

Chapter One – Whispers in the Dark (Part Four)

The storm outside had grown restless, though no rain fell. The clouds pressed low over the fields, and thunder grumbled faintly, as if the sky itself disapproved of what stirred inside the little house.

Elara’s tears slowed, leaving her exhausted, trembling. She wiped her cheeks with her sleeve, embarrassed, though she no longer knew why. What did it matter what a demon thought of her weakness? And yet—she cared. She cared too much.

Kael lingered close, his presence thick in the air, the scent of smoke and ash clinging to him. His wings twitched faintly, as if some instinct urged him to gather her into their shadowed shelter, but still he resisted.

She looked at him through damp lashes. “If I’m bound to you now… does that mean when I die, you’ll come for me?”

The question was whispered, fragile, but it cut him deeper than any blade. His eyes dimmed, the embers flickering.

“Yes,” he said at last. “But not as you think. When your heart fails, it will be my fault. Your final breath will belong to me.”

The words should have filled her with terror, but instead her chest ached with something stranger—sadness, not for herself, but for him.

“And what then?” she pressed softly. “What happens to you?”

Kael’s gaze broke away, his jaw tightening. His voice lowered until it was almost inaudible. “Then I carry another chain. Another soul I cannot forget.”

Elara’s throat closed. She pictured him, wandering through endless darkness, carrying not just her memory, but the memory of countless others. Souls chained to his existence, binding him in sorrow. No wonder his eyes looked like embers—he was burning alive inside.

Her hand moved before she thought. She reached out, fingertips trembling, and touched the edge of his wing. The feathers were not soft, but brittle, sharp, almost glass-like. Shadow curled between them, vanishing into her skin.

Kael froze, every muscle taut. “Do not—”

But she didn’t pull away. “You said your touch dooms mortals. What about mine? What does it do to you?”

For a heartbeat, his face looked almost human. Pained, startled, vulnerable. His lips parted, but no sound came.

Her fingers lingered on his wing, light as breath. “I’m not afraid of you, Kael.”

He closed his eyes, as though the words themselves wounded him. His voice shook when he answered.

“You should be.”

The silence that followed was heavier than thunder. Elara let her hand fall, though her skin still tingled with the memory of him.

“I don’t have long,” she admitted, her voice barely steady. “The doctors say… months, maybe. A year if I’m lucky. But if you’re here—if you’re really here—I don’t want to waste what’s left pretending I’m not afraid. I want…” She faltered, her voice cracking. “I just don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Her confession shattered him. He felt it, like a crack spreading through the armor of shadow he had carried for centuries. He had sworn never to bind himself to another mortal heart. He had sworn never to feel this again. And yet here she was—this fragile girl with a failing heart, daring to say the very words he had buried long ago.

He stepped closer, so close the heat of his body brushed hers. His shadow wrapped around her, not fully touching, but enclosing her in his presence like a cloak. His wings loomed, trembling with restraint.

“You will not be alone,” he said, each word weighted like an oath. “Not while I remain.”

The promise was wrong. Dangerous. It was the kind of vow that cursed him deeper, tethered him tighter. And yet he could not take it back.

Elara’s tears fell again—not from despair, but from the terrible, aching relief of hearing those words spoken aloud. She nodded once, pressing her hand to her chest as though to steady her heart.

“Then stay,” she whispered. “Even if it dooms me. Stay.”

Kael stared at her, his ember eyes burning, and for the first time in centuries, he felt the ache of something he thought he had lost forever.

Hope.

He turned his face away, wings folding back to shield him from her gaze. “You don’t understand what you ask.”

But Elara only whispered, softer, more certain than before:

“I do.”

The clock on the mantle struck midnight. The sound was sharp, echoing through the silence.

And in that moment, Kael knew he could not leave her.

Not tonight.

Not ever.

The shadows closed tighter around the room, and the candle’s smoke curled like a forgotten prayer. Elara sat trembling, her heart stronger than it had felt in months, her soul strangely light despite the tears still shining on her face.

And Kael, demon of ash and sorrow, stood over her—no longer just a curse in the dark, but something far more dangerous.

A promise.