Page 34 of Owned By the Hvrok

At first, it was nothing. Shifting fabric. The soft patter of bare feet on composite flooring. A breath.

Then another.

But this one hitched.

Strange, soft sounds followed: fragmented, rhythmic. Gasping. Moaning.

He stilled.

His body went still in the way only a Hvrok warrior could still—utterly locked, breath suspended, senses sharpened to surgical focus.

What was she doing?

A quiet wail slipped through the sealed door.

Then sniffing.

Then—moaning again. But not like before.

He did not believe it was pleasure. No, this was something else. Something deeper.Sorrowful.

The sound grew louder. Raw, ragged.

Then softened. Faded.

Until at last, it stopped.

He stood unmoving, pulse steady, trying to make sense of the storm he’d just heard from the other side of the wall.

Was that… sadness?

Was that what sadness sounded like, to a human?

He’d never heard one mourn like that.

Not even on the auction floor, where bodies were sold, minds broken, lives extinguished by bids and numbers. He had seen them scream. Seen them rage. Even seen tears.

But this?—

Thishurt.

It carried a resonance that touched something he could not define.

She wasn’t in danger. He would have known.

She was not afraid.

Not anymore.

She was grieving.

Processing.

And suddenly, impossibly, part of him wanted togo to her.

To open the door. Step inside. Place a hand on her shoulder. Speak in low tones, even if she would not understand them.

Comforther.

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