All Chapters of The Blood Opera: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

I woke up to the sensation of warm breath on my neck, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room. I turned my head slightly, and there he was, Avel, lying naked beside me. His arm lay draped across my waist, heavy and protective, fingers lax but curled as though even in sleep he refused to let go. His breath moved in soft, steady exhalations against the back of my neck, stirring loose strands of hair. I was wrapped in only a thin bed sheet, the fabric doing little to hide the effect his closeness was having on me. We had crossed a threshold, one we could never uncross. I opened my eyes slowly. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tight. Morning light barely filtered through the edges, turning the dust motes into faint gold. My pulse fluttered at the memory of how we’d ended here. He shifted then. A quiet, tired sound escaping him. His body tightened instinctively around mine, his hand sliding across my stomach to pull me gently closer. “Lyria…” he murmured into my hair, voic

Avel didn’t speak. Not after Silas left. Not when the corridor emptied. Not when the last lamp flickered low and the opera house settled into a slow, humming quiet. He simply took my hand. Fingers curling around mine with a possessive certainty he didn’t try to hide and pulled me with him down the darkened corridor. “Avel,” I breathed, “Where are we—” He didn’t answer. He was moving too fast, too silently, like a man walking toward something he had already decided he wouldn’t stop wanting. We reached a small side room near the wings, a place meant for costume changes. Avel pushed the door open with one hand and pulled me in with the other. The door clicked shut behind us. Avel released my hand only so he could cage me gently against the wall with both arms, palms braced on either side of my head. His forehead lowered to mine. His breath trembled. “Lyria…” he whispered, voice raw, “I cannot watch him touch you. I cannot watch anyone touch you.” My pulse flutter

I left Avel’s rooms just after noon. Not because I wanted to, but because he had insisted on distance. The Opera House felt different as soon as I stepped into the corridor. Brighter in places, darker in others, as though the shadows had learned to breathe. My skin tingled. Every patch of exposed flesh felt warm, sensitive, aware of the world in a new way. And the air— the air tasted different. Thicker. Sweeter. Sharper. I paused against the railing overlooking the foyer, fingers curling around the carved wood. For a moment, I closed my eyes. And felt. The faint hum of lamps. Distant footsteps echoing. Something metallic in the air. Something warm. Something like— Pulse. My eyes snapped open. That wasn’t possible. I pressed a hand to my chest, half-expecting my heart to be racing, out of control, but my pulse was steady. Calmer than it had any right to be after a night like the one I’d had. But beneath that steady beat…there was a second feeling. Not a heartbeat exactl

Avel didn’t let go of me until the last trace of the predator’s presence vanished.Even then, his hands stayed on my arms —firm, trembling, protective—as if the darkness itself might reach back for me if he released his grip too soon.“Are you well?” he asked, his voice stripped raw.“Yes.”His breath left him in a shudder. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I would have torn the building apart if you weren't.”The words should have frightened me. Instead, warmth stirred beneath my skin. Avel felt it.His fingers tightened once, reflexively, then loosened again as if he were reminding himself how to touch without taking.“Lyria…” He swallowed. “We need to talk. Now. Before this goes any further.”“Further?” I echoed.Avel stepped back half a pace.Not far enough to break the pull between us. Just far enough to think.He dragged a hand through his hair, agitation threading through every movement.“You don’t understand what your body is doing,” he said. “Or what mine is responding to.”I too

The world tilted.The floor pressed cold against my palms.My breath shook in shallow bursts as the warmth inside me curled into something sharper.I shut my eyes, trying to steady myself, trying to breathe through the pounding of my own heart.It wasn’t enough.The pulse ringing in my ears grew louder. A rhythmic echo that wasn’t mine.Beat.Beat.Beat.Avel’s heartbeat.Far away. Too far. My body tried to reach for it.I curled in on myself instead, trembling.Footsteps thundered through the corridor, and a voice—Silas’—shouted something I couldn’t catch. His panic warred with the warmth inside me, and I flattened against the wall, knees drawn to my chest.Everything hurt. Not physically. Not exactly.It was the absence that hurt. The absence of pulse. The absence of warmth. The absence of him.My fingers curled against the floorboards.“Avel,” I whispered, though I didn’t know if I called him in fear or hunger.Another heartbeat approached.This one deeper. Darker. Terrifyingly bea