Page 32 of Blood Sings (Beyond the Gloom #1)

One second I was standing in the war room, the next—hell. Pure, unadulterated hell.

Teleporting with Harbinger felt like being shoved through a meat grinder made of ice and crushing pressure. Darkness squeezed the air from my lungs. Freezing walls scraped my shoulders, the chill burrowing deep into my bones, making them ache as if they might splinter.

The air was dense, oppressive. An arctic weight pressed from all sides, turning every twitch into a herculean effort.

I began to scream, too late remembering Harbinger’s warning. The instinctive inhale filled my throat with crystallizing shards. Terror clawed at me.

Was this how I’d die? A pureblood popsicle in Harbinger’s godforsaken portal?

My numb fingers tightened around his hand—my only lifeline in this frozen hell. I commanded my legs to move, but they may as well have been concrete. Every inch forward was a battle against an invisible riptide of tar.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take another second, Harbinger stopped.

I slammed into the brick wall of his back, my insides lurching sideways, and stumbled, but his iron grip kept me upright.

Frost melted from my lashes, blurring my vision. I blinked rapidly, desperate to confirm we’d escaped that nightmare.

“What in Derzelas’ name was that?” I croaked.

“That, princess, was Chronoportal,” Harbinger replied, casual as a Sunday stroll on Aviators Boulevard.

“I almost died!”

He snorted. “Not even close. You’ll get used to it.”

I glared, teeth chattering. “I’d rather walk barefoot through lava.”

Harbinger’s lips twitched, crimson flaring in his eyes. “You continue to surprise me.”

The chill dissipated, replaced by an intense heat blooming deep inside me. My eyes darted around, taking in our surroundings.

Neat. Tidy. He’d brought us to his bedroom.

The floorboards vibrated with Selena’s shouts. Her hysterical voice faded under the baritone of Terraknight’s voice, probably explaining that everything was alright. Good luck with that.

All around us, a dozen candles flickered, their flames painting the olive-green walls with playful shadows. The warm light caught on the polished surface of the cherry wood bookshelf, sending sporadic glints of orange across the room. Books lined the shelves, some jutting out at odd angles, as if hastily shoved back into place after a late-night reading session.

My skin prickled. The intimacy of the space, of our proximity, was jarring. It wasn’t just his physical size but the power radiating from him, leaving me both giddy and on edge.

“Harbinger,” I wheezed. “Why are we here?”

He raked a hand through his silver hair, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’ve piqued my curiosity. I find myself… intrigued.”

“If this is about pity—”

“No such thing, princess,” he cut in, prowling closer. “Pity’s not in my vocabulary.”

I didn’t move. We faced off like two apex predators.

“Those scars,” he said. “Why keep them hidden?”

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance despite my raging pulse. “Didn’t think it’d matter to you.”

He smiled like a wolf baring its fangs in a dark forest. His dimples made an appearance, too, and my heart backflipped. It’d made a lot of unexpected jumps lately.

“Maybe it doesn’t.”

“Then we agree.”

His husky laugh slid down my spine like warm honey. “Is that all you’ve got? I expected more fire.”

“Yep.” When in trouble, keep it monosyllabic.

I tried to convince myself he was nothing special. Just a guy in worn leather pants and—of all things—a dark blue polo shirt. It should be impossible to look deadly in a polo shirt, but Harbinger defied logic. The fabric molded to his form, outlining every ridge and valley of his chest. His hard shoulders stretched the seams to their breaking point. I half expected to hear stitches popping if he so much as flexed.

I’d felt what lay beneath. His body wasn’t just hard; it was forged steel.

Perhaps it wasn’t his physique, but his insufferable confidence that put me on high alert.

I backed up, but not quickly enough. My breath hitched as we collided, the force of it making my heart jackhammer against my ribs. A painful, rapid beat. The steady thrum of blood in his neck seduced me like nectar—obsessively, compulsively.

“The other day…” he murmured. His breath caressed my cheek. “Did you mean it? About not getting hurt if I’d bitten you?”

Heat flooded my face. “I told you, I got carried away.”

“Hmm.” He crowded me backward until my spine met the door with a soft thud.

A pathetic whimper escaped my throat.

“You’re dodging the question, princess.”

He dipped his head, silky hair tickling my skin as he nuzzled the hollow of my neck. The exposed flesh I’d fought so hard to keep covered. My hand flew up, fingers grasping at nothing—the scarf was gone, lost somewhere in Harbinger’s cursed portal. My breath hitched. His tongue traced my pulse, just above my scars, and I swore I felt an echo of it between my thighs.

I bit back a moan, desperately searching for a distraction. Maybe I should lock myself in the bathroom before I succumbed to the urge to climb him like a tree and finish what we’d started in my room.

“Since when do you care about my well-being?” I forced out, ignoring those sinful lips hovering over my skin. “We don’t get along, remember? You lie. You order me around. I fantasize about murdering you. I’m stubborn. You’re infuriating. We drive each other mad, and you want to throttle me.”

“That was one time.”

“One time too many. We can’t stand each other. We—”

He cupped the back of my neck and crashed his mouth to mine.

Heat rolled through me as his tongue teased the seam of my lips.

I couldn’t help it. I arched into him, grinding against his hardness. His fingers twisted in my hair, tugging just shy of painful. The sting cleared my head.

I shoved his chest, but he pulled back, his heart thundering beneath my palm. The look in his hooded eyes could’ve melted the snow on the Carpathians.

“Harbinger,” I panted, “what are you doing?”

“Kissing you.” The way his lips curved around those words was positively indecent. Realization dawned on his face, one dark-blond eyebrow arching skyward. “Hold on. Someone has kissed you before, right?”

I scoffed. “Of course I’ve been kissed.” Like, eighty years ago. But he didn’t need to know that. Or that kissing took a backseat during a Blood Pact.

Mirth danced in his gaze. “Oh, princess, you’re a terrible liar. No one? Really? “

My cheeks burned. “Fine. There was a guy at the Academy obsessed with mortal acts of affection. We experimented a few times before my rival stole him. I don’t see the appeal. Satisfied?” I snapped, pushing him again.

His smile widened, showing the sharp tips of his fangs. My toes curled in my boots. “Well, princess,” he leaned in, “let’s fix that, shall we?”

I tried to retreat, but the door blocked my escape. “We really shouldn’t—”

His scorching lips claimed mine, and my reason evaporated. Exhilaration surged through me, every nerve ending singing. His tongue caressed and teased—not conquering but enticing; confident, yet tender.

I craved his taste more than my next breath. Maybe I should kiss him back and exorcise this curiosity so I never think of it again.

I surrendered and let him in.

Sweet. Holy. Darkness.

The world exploded into a kaleidoscope of sensations.

He tasted divine—smoky and masculine, like a forbidden elixir. My body roared to life, as if emerging from a century-long slumber, guided by his tongue.

A deep, hungry growl rumbled in his chest as he nipped at my lips, his hand fisting in my hair. I reveled in the feeling of his arms around me, the heat of his body pressing against mine. His tongue thrust into my mouth, possessing, seducing, and I matched his fervor. Time lost all meaning as we moved in perfect harmony. When we finally parted, we were both gasping for air.

An arrogant smirk traced his lips. “Well?” he asked, voice husky. “How did that measure up? Do I appeal ?”

This insufferable man.

“Underwhelming. No fireworks. Nothing. Like kissing my own reflection.” My head still spun. He could be as smug as he wanted, but I knew he’d felt it too. The evidence of his desire pressed against me, leaving no room for doubt.

He didn’t even try to hide it.

“Lie to yourself all you want, princess, but we both know the truth.”

“And what’s that?”

If he flexed one more time, I’d need to take drastic action. Maybe jab him in the eyes. Hard to look seductive while tearing up.

“You want me.”

Oh hell.

“You’re captivated by my irresistible charm, and you’re afraid to admit it.”

I gaped at him. “Doesn’t your neck hurt from holding up that massive ego?”

He laughed, the sound sending my traitorous heart into somersaults. I opened my mouth to deliver another smart retort, but something in his demeanor changed. A glimmer of vulnerability flickered in his gaze.

“Come here,” he said and tugged me toward his desk. “There’s something I want you to see.”

Releasing my hand, Harbinger pulled open the top drawer. His movements were careful, almost reverent, as he retrieved a metal box, not much larger than the one I held my Nexus and Astral Visor. Recognition flashed through me.

That box. I’d seen it before, sitting on his nightstand the night I’d come to discuss the shipment. The dim candlelight caught its edges, revealing a patina that spoke of years of handling.

He set the box on the desk and lifted the lid. I leaned in to have a better look and couldn’t stifle my gasp.

A treasure trove of trinkets spilled forth. Delicate jewels nestled against rough-hewn wooden figurines, stones, polished to a gleam, soft feathers. A tiny compass, its needle wavering slightly, sat atop fragments of yellowed letters, their edges crisp with age.

Harbinger’s expression turned somber. The cocky, exasperating captain vanished, replaced by a man who’d seen too much death—and had lost all hope.

A sudden tightness gripped my chest. I massaged it with the pad of my hand, trying to ease the unexpected ache.

He procured a small pocket knife from his back pocket, plucked a silver necklace from the pile, and sank into his chair. The silver medallion gleamed gold as he laid it flat before him.

“When I was with my first guild, we made a pact.” His voice was flat, but the sorrow in his eyes betrayed a deep-seated pain. “We’d engrave the names of our fallen on their favorite belongings. The last survivor would carry them to freedom, ensuring everyone found peace.”

He paused, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. The candle stump sitting in the saucer cast shadows on his face that seemed to age him decades. “I try to retrieve their personal items, but it’s often impossible. It’s not much, but it’s… tangible proof they existed.”

The scrape of metal on metal filled the silence as he etched two letters into the medallion: DF. My stomach twisted into knots.

“Her name,” I murmured, comprehension sinking in. “You’re carving Phoenix’s name…”

Dark Father.

The weight of his burden crashed over me. How long had he been carrying these mementos, honoring a promise to ghosts? My vision blurred, pressure building behind my eyes. I blinked, fighting back the tears.

He leaned back, the chair groaning beneath him. “Ditoa Firestarter,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “That’s Phoenix’s real name.”

A pair of jade-green eyes flashed in my mind, fierce and agile.

A sob tore from my throat before I could stop it. I swiped at my cheeks, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. I didn’t want to add to Harbinger’s sorrow. They were family. The gnawing emptiness in my chest couldn’t compare to his loss.

He placed the necklace inside the box and closed the lid with a soft click, tapping it gently. For several heartbeats, he sat in silence, head bowed. I held my breath, feeling like an intruder in a private eulogy.

“It’s only the five of us left—Terraknight, Hummingbird, Gale, Pearl, and me,” he finally spoke, his tone heavy with resignation. “That’s why I must take them with me. Every soul that fought and fell… they’ll stay with me, protected, until I die.”

Harbinger’s words carved into my chest. A deep ache settled in my heart. How did he bear it? This mountain of grief that no one could see?

“How many?” I whispered, dreading the answer.

“Four hundred and fifty-three, including Phoenix.”

The number knocked the breath right out of me. I’d lost outliers during my service, but I couldn’t recall the exact count. That he knew precisely spoke volumes of the weight he carried.

“Is that… why they call you Harbinger?” My voice cracked. “Because you shepherd them to their final rest?”

“That’s part of it, yes.”

The Republic had denied them proper graves. Harbinger’s devotion to preserving their memories suddenly illuminated why he commanded such respect. A profound urge to comfort him, to shoulder even a fraction of his burden, flooded me.

I reached out and gently swept the hair from his forehead. The candle flame highlighted the moisture in his eyes, and in that moment, I saw not the formidable Harbinger, but a man drowning in an ocean of loss.

It broke me to see him like this. The invincible hybrid, laid bare by grief and duty. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, to offer some small respite, but I hesitated, unsure if such intimacy would be welcome.

Why not? Worst case, he gets angry. Still better than that defeated expression on his face.

Before I could second-guess myself, I straddled his lap, sliding my hand up his chest and scraping my nails through the short hair at the back of his neck.

He let out a masculine groan, tilting his head back. Those mesmerizing dual-colored irises focused on me. “What are you doing, princess?”

“Provoking Death,” I breathed.

An irresistible pull tugged at my core—not just physical, but emotional. Spiritual. We became magnets, drawn closer until no space remained between us. Our lips hovered inches apart, breaths mingling, hearts synchronizing. The intensity, the surging heat and raw emotion, ripped a moan from my throat.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, low and rough.

Leaning into him, I absorbed the vibration of his words. “You. I want you.”

He gripped my hips and pulled me flush against him, his arousal pressing hard against me. We lunged for each other, colliding like stars.

Then our mouths met. His tongue delved deep, exploring, making my world tilt on its axis.

Pure ecstasy.

I was lost, utterly and completely.

He tasted like heaven and sin combined.

I matched his passion, grazing his lower lip, studying with my tongue, melding my body into his. He groaned in pleasure as his mouth blazed a trail of fire along my jawline, licking the sensitive spot below my ear. The gentle suction sent shockwaves through me, molten and electric, short-circuiting my brain.

I craved his touch as desperately as I craved his blood.

“If you want me to stop, say no,” he whispered raggedly, gripping my thighs as he rose to his feet.

I nodded, that inexplicable feeling of safety I always felt with him washing over me, emboldening me to continue.

It was strange. I’d known almost nothing about him, except that he was the most dangerous man I’d ever met, and I felt secure. Protected.

Wrapping my legs around him, I shifted to get a better hold—and elicited another delicious grunt from him. My eyes fluttered closed in anticipation of his kiss. But instead of his lips on mine, his grip suddenly vanished. I was airborne for a heartbeat, gasping as I hit the mattress.

Oomph.

My eyes flew open just in time to watch him remove his shirt. The sight took my breath away—the robust strength of his shoulders, the powerful chest, the flat planes of his stomach. A black rectangular stone pendant nestled between his pectorals, hanging from a silver chain. Harbinger, shirtless and barefoot in only his leather pants, was a vision of masculine perfection.

The sheer physical power of him was staggering. He had the kind of body that made women sigh knowing they could never touch it. Yet here he was, flexing before me—no longer a fantasy but mine .

The old springs groaned as he propped himself on his elbows, pinning my arms above me. His eyes, guarded and hollow moments ago, now blazed with a crimson glow that made my heart gallop. “Pay attention, princess, because I’m about to kiss every inch of you.”

He tore my silk shirt open, buttons scattering across the floor. The front clasp of my black lacy bra popped, and my breasts sprang free. Harbinger dipped his head, sucking at one nipple, grazing it with his teeth. I fisted his hair as a wave of pleasure radiated downward, burning through me.

I moaned, arching my back to give him better access. “Harbinger…”

“So sensitive…” he murmured against my skin.

He blew cool air over the sensitized peak, sending my body into overdrive. Every cell in me focused on his touch as he rolled it between his fingertips. Harbinger’s torturous assault continued, his mouth claiming my other breast—sucking, licking, teasing. When he nipped just hard enough, a galaxy of stars exploded behind my eyelids.

He rose to his knees, and my gaze lingered on the sculpted planes of his body, following the tapering muscles that led to his narrow waist. The prominent bulge in his leather pants was catastrophically distracting. My mouth went dry, and I gulped, conscious of how parched I felt—and not just for blood.

“Come, princess,” he invited, arms spread wide, presenting the world’s most perfect chest. “Have a bite.”

How could I resist when he looked at me like that? As if I were something precious, offering what I craved most. I licked my lips, savoring the lingering taste of him, and swallowed hard.

I climbed onto his thighs, straddling him, and trailed kisses along his neck. A rough growl rumbled from his chest as he tilted his head back, offering me his throat. I sank my fangs into his vein, and the gates to the Underworld burst open. His blood mixed with his scent—smoky, floral, intoxicating.

His fingers tangled in my hair, alternating between gentle tugs and caresses. Fire ignited low in my belly. My hands roamed greedily, tracing every ridge, reveling in each muscle spasm beneath my touch. I pulled away from his neck, fumbling with his waistband, desperate to feel all of him.

He caught my hand, pressing a gentle kiss to my palm. “Not tonight, princess.”

Heated, tightly controlled want burned in his gaze as he guided my arms around his neck. His hands slipped under my skirt, teasing, before tearing away the thin fabric of my underwear.

I gasped, the sound lost to the crackling portal behind him. “No, you don’t,” I protested, reaching for the scrap of lace dangling from his fingers.

He stretched out of reach, his self-assured grin making me shudder. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the ruined garment into another dimension.

Gripping my hips, he pressed every hard inch of himself against me and leisurely lowered me to the bed, his tongue blazing a trail between my breasts.

Oh, stars and Moon.

The muscles in his back flexed beneath my fingers, firm as steel. He paused at my navel, lifting his head, giving me a chance to stop him.

I wouldn’t. This felt too good… too right .

His eyes glowed with raw, honest need, and the wildfire inside me spread through my veins. He nipped at my skin, stoking the fire, before pushing up my skirt and settling between my thighs.

The first touch of his mouth tore a scream from my throat.

Harbinger devoured me like a man dying of thirst, and I was his oasis. His tongue explored, lips sucking, drawing out sensations I never knew existed. Everything faded until all that remained was the hot knot of pleasure blooming between my legs. Each heated stroke intensified the pressure, lifting me to unbearable, wonderful heights.

“Mmm, you’re the best thing I’ve tasted in a very long time, princess,” he purred, the thrum of his voice nearly sending me over the edge.

He slid a finger inside, setting a slow, tantalizing rhythm.

My hips rose to meet each stroke, chasing the maddening pleasure. Another finger joined, curling slightly as his pace quickened. My world narrowed to the sound of my frantic heartbeats and the exquisite sensations he drew from me.

His teeth grazed my inner thigh, not quite breaking the skin. “You like that?” he whispered, his breath hot against me. “Give yourself to me, Aurora.”

The sweet pressure built to a crescendo then erupted. I cried out his name, electric shockwaves rolling through my body. If he could shatter my world like this, I doubted I’d survive a true Blood Pact.

Harbinger released me, and I lay limp, a blissful exhaustion weighing down my limbs.

The mattress dipped, his body heat seeping into my side. His fingertip traced a path from my hip to my waist, grazing the side of my breast. A shiver rippled through me as he gripped my chin, claiming my mouth once more.

I responded to his kiss with unbridled hunger, moaning in satisfaction. A primal, possessive need overtook me, the predator in me claiming its stake, refusing to let go. Would I ever be able to let this man go?

“It’s Radolf,” he whispered against my lips.

“Mm-hmm, what is?”

“My name. You called me Harbinger earlier, but I’d prefer hearing my real name when you’re squirming underneath me.” He propped himself up, his smoldering gaze trailing over my body. That smirk could melt a trail of Stalkers straight to their territory. “You can call me Radu. It’s shorter.”

Shame and guilt pounded through me as I lay frozen, ensnared by his gaze. What had I done? Becoming intimate with the very outlier I was sent to investigate—a half-varcolac who’d cared for me during my bloodlust, whose name I’d never bothered to learn.

I was so furious with myself that I could cry.

“Hummingbird was right. I am a hypocrite,” I groaned, slamming my forearm over my eyes.

“It’s just a name. Don’t overthink it,” Radu said, gently uncovering my eyes.

But it wasn’t just a name. It was everything.

“If what Hummingbird said still bothers you,” he sighed, “it shouldn’t. Not everyone shares his opinion. This situation isn’t your fault, and you can’t change it. Don’t feel guilty over things beyond your control.”

“That’s not the point,” I countered, my voice thick. “I was terribly inconsiderate, not even trying to learn your real names.”

He brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “Our identities are irrelevant. Ever wonder why we use call signs when Stalkers can’t breach the Harmonization? Or why the Republic destroyed our records?”

“So projectors wouldn’t know who they’re harmonizing with…”

“Exactly. Most of us don’t survive a year after drafting. The higher-ups probably thought the death toll would overwhelm a projector.”

“But that makes us cowards,” I murmured. “I wronged you and your guild. I need to make it right.” I’d do whatever it took to make amends, starting with him.

“Radu,” I tested his name, its exotic sound unique on my tongue. Meeting his gaze, I felt a blush warm my cheeks. “Radu, where did you send my underwear?”

His head fell back, rich laughter echoing through the room. It was the most beautiful sound I’d heard from him yet, making my heart flutter and then soar.

He sobered, grinning. “I hope they weren’t your favorite because they’re gone, princess.”

I chuckled and scooted closer. “They were already shredded, anyway.”

Radu pulled me into his arms, and for the first time since Father’s passing, I felt safe and wanted. Something no one else had done for me.