Chapter 92: Chapter 92 Angelic voice.
"Just sleep. When you’re awake, we’ll discuss. Tomorrow is another day." Xylander patted him gently, trying to massage Daniel’s body into rest.
Daniel’s eyelids were weak already, drifting shut, when he suddenly noticed a little violin in the corner of his room.
"How long has that been in my room?" Daniel’s sudden question caught Xylander by surprise. He thought Daniel was finally surrendering to sleep, but apparently not.
Xylander looked at the violin, expression faintly lost, as memories threatened to burst out of the carefully locked door in his heart where he had sealed them.
The violin was a reminder—an accident that happened years ago, back when he was in the entertainment industry with his mother. Everything had fallen apart so badly that he was forced to abandon singing, his dream, and pursue business instead.
Now, with just one glance, all of it began to creep back.
"It might have been dropped there by mistake. If it makes you uncomfortable, let me take it away," Xylander offered, though in truth he wasn’t thinking of Daniel’s discomfort but his own. He didn’t want that violin here. Moving on from the accident didn’t mean he had buried it completely.
"Oh, don’t remove it. Just a look at it brings back memories—when I was still aspiring to be a singer before a ghastly accident. I don’t remember the full details, but it was the start of my nightmare," Daniel muttered in his drowsy voice.
Xylander froze. Singer. Accident. His mind raced. Could Daniel have been present at the horrible tragedy of the Starfall Opera House? Everything Daniel said fit, but... it couldn’t be. He didn’t remember seeing his face that day.
"Dan... the singing you did, where was it?" Xylander asked cautiously, praying inwardly Daniel had no connection.
Daniel gazed blankly at the violin. His mind felt empty. All he remembered was once being an angelic singer with a breathtaking voice that his parents praised, saying he was destined to be a star.
Funny enough, his father didn’t discriminate against his Omega status back then. That was until someone pulled an evil stunt on him—ruining everything—and that was when his household turned into a battlefield of hatred.
"That was long ago, Xylander. I can’t even remember well. Only the image of the lady in the poster in this house—that’s all. She supervised the singing." Daniel spoke hazily, struggling to recall, but eventually gave up.
The mention of his mother made Xylander tremble. She had indeed been the one supervising.
"Calm down, Xyle. He didn’t see anything, maybe he wasn’t affected," he told himself. So he avoided the subject and focused on putting Daniel back to sleep. But then Daniel’s request made his face fall.
"A moment, Xylander. Please... can you play the violin for me? I just can’t close my eyes, but the violin might help."
Daniel’s mind was a battlefield. The shock of his pregnancy, the fear of his secret spreading, and the shadows of his past clawed at him. He already had enough demons—his fear of the dark, his scars. He couldn’t handle more. He just wanted release.
"I don’t know, Daniel. It’s been so long..." Xylander protested, conflicted. His pheromones began to fill the air, and Daniel realized whatever that violin represented, it was deep, and playing it would hurt him.
"Okay, it’s fine. Don’t force yourself. I’ll try to sleep on my own," Daniel reassured, shutting his eyes.
With Daniel asleep, Xylander facepalmed. Not this again. Starfall Opera House deserved to be demolished for the evil acts committed there by those powerful Alpha families.
"Just once. Just this night," Xylander whispered finally, giving in. Daniel’s eyes flew open at the words, watching as Xylander sluggishly walked to the violin and picked it up.
With a soft stroke, the iron strings sang, releasing a sweet, rhythmic tune.
"Oh my starlight, as you shine..." Xylander began to sing. Daniel, who moments ago was nearly asleep, found every ounce of drowsiness vanish.
That voice. That tone. That range. It struck him like lightning. Why did it sound familiar? From where?
But no matter how he tried, the memory wouldn’t come. It stayed foggy, as if a veil was covering it. Still, he listened, entranced.
Xylander soared into a high, terrifying range before finally letting the violin fade into silence.
Daniel was speechless. He could sing like this—and no one had said anything?
"It was beautiful, Xyle... so beautiful. I just hope that whatever happened won’t make you stop singing. It would be a shame for such a talent to die," Daniel whispered. From experience, he knew what it felt like to lose talent. Xylander still had his; it deserved to grow.
Slowly, Daniel’s eyes fluttered shut and he drifted to sleep, leaving Xylander with his thoughts.
Because those words—he had heard them before. Seven years ago, spoken to him by someone who later disappeared.
"Don’t stop singing, Xyle. No matter what, your talent must reach the world. A voice like yours is what people need to heal."
The same words. Nearly exact.
Am I just thinking too much?
He set the violin aside, turned off the light, and left the room. Tomorrow, he swore, he would burn that violin. The past had to die.
Not long after Xylander left, another figure entered. Draven. Seeing the light off, he quickly turned it on. Just then Alex walked in.
With Daniel now pregnant, his role as bodyguard mattered more than ever.
"What are you doing?" Alex asked, eyeing him sharply.
Draven sighed. For damn’s sake, he wasn’t plotting anything.
"I just came in and the room was dark. Someone turned off the light, so I put it back on. Is that a crime?" Draven exclaimed, too tired to argue.
Alex stayed silent for a moment.
"Okay, that’s understandable. But why did you enter this room? Follow me, I’ll show you yours." Alex ordered, but Draven refused to move.
"I want to sleep close to him. I can’t let him stay alone with you guys. Who knows what evil intentions someone might have against him—especially that creepy lady I saw on the staircase," Draven insisted.
Alex chuckled dryly.
"With that leg, you think you can protect him? What a joke," he muttered—before something made him stop.
The ceiling fan above rattled.
"Wait—did that fan just creak?" Draven asked, startled. It had been switched off, so why was it moving?
Alexander rolled his eyes, ready to dismiss him as a fool—until the fan made a dreadful groan.
"Daniel... Dan!" Alex shouted, but before he could react, Draven had already leapt forward, scooping Daniel off the bed.
The bed wasn’t so lucky. It splintered apart as the fan crashed down, smashing everything.
Alex’s eyes nearly popped.
Daniel had almost been killed. Almost mutilated.
Who did this? Who could be so evil?