Page 85 of The Madness Within

The second I heard the voice, my spine straightened.

Low. Smooth. Velvet soaked in sin. “Long-time listener. First-time caller.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Cute,” I muttered into the mic. “But you’re about two octaves too smug to fool me.”

There was a pause.

Then, “Have you given up trying to find The Scale Murderer?” My heart stopped for a beat. My mouth parted. “Because he’s still out there,” the voice continued, “and lately… it sounds like someone’s getting a little too comfortable in captivity.”

I glanced toward the door, throat tightening.

“I ask,” he said, “because I had a dream last night. Someone was keeping secrets. A woman. Strong. Terrified. And glowing like moonlight. She told me she saw something... but wasn’t ready to say it.”

“Maybe she had her reasons,” I said softly.

“Maybe,” he replied. “Or maybe she was scared of what would happen if the man in her life knew the truth.”

There was a crackle of static as the line closed, but then the door opened.

Dorian stepped inside, dressed in black, eyes molten. He didn’t speak at first, he just walked up to me, slow and deliberate, the mic still live, but I muted it in an instant.

I stared at him, jaw tight.

“I could’ve texted,” he said finally, standing close behind me. “But that’s not really our style, is it?”

I rolled my eyes. “You called my show just to be dramatic?”

“I called,” he said, leaning down so his voice brushed my neck, “because I needed to remind you who you talk to when the dreams stop feeling like dreams.”

He reached out, brushing two fingers against my bare skin.

The studio fell into silence.

“You’re not alone in this,” he said. “Not with what’s waking inside you. Not with your mother’s voice still haunting your sleep. Not with the weight of what you’re becoming.”

I stared up at him, heat rising behind my ribs. “And what am I becoming?” I whispered.

His gaze softened, just enough to burn.

“Something unstoppable. Something divine.” He paused. “And you’re not doing it alone, Ember. We find the truth together. Your bloodline, the Veil, your dreams. All of it.”

I should have pushed him away.

But instead, I turned the mic back on and leaned in.

“For those of you still listening,” I said smoothly, voice warm now, “Dead Wrongjust got very real. I’m out.” I end the live show and focus on the man before me.

Dorian smirked. “I’ll bring the wine.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

??Live Wires & Shadowed Truths

Dorian

She didn’t have to say it.

The moment I stepped into that room, her studio, her sanctuary, her stage, I saw it in her eyes. The shift. The surrender. The slow-burning trust that had been clawing its way up through her fear like a flame starving for oxygen.

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