He sat there in the darkness for a moment, ears straining. The sound had been distant, muffled by thick stone walls and heavy doors, but it had been unmistakable.
It was a woman's voice, high-pitched and raw, carrying an unmistakable note of desperate, unbridled ecstasy.
"Nnngh... ahh... Rex! YES!"
The name caught him off guard.
Rex?
A cold shiver traced down his spine. He shook his head dismissively, trying to dismiss the unease.
"Just the wind," he whispered to the empty room. "Or some servants down the hall... Probably just some drunken revelry."
But his mind wouldn't let it go. The pitch of the scream had been too human, too intimate.
It hadn't sounded like drunken laughter or the careless shouts of servants; it had sounded like someone being pushed to the very edge of their sanity. He tried to lie back down, pulling the silk sheets up to his chin, but his pulse refused to slow down.
