The Mate I Never Chose
Not a footstep, not a groan of stone.
It was a voice. A cold, familiar, and utterly impossible voice.
"I must say," a man said, the tone smooth, cultured, and dripping with an unsettling, ancient authority, "the Buntu bloodline was always prone to dramatics. Though, I did hope you wouldn't destroy the equipment. It was, after all, quite expensive to import."
Rangga felt a shiver run down his spine that had nothing to do with the cavern’s chill. He peered into the gloom.