A Soul to Revive (Duskwalker Brides, #5)

A Soul to Revive (Duskwalker Brides, #5)

Opal Reyne



To all the MonsterFuckers out there that love a horny himbo, this book is for you.

Will he know what his cock is? Absolutely not. Will he give it to you good once he does? Absolutely. We sincerely love a terrifying, skull-headed monster who is also tender, cute, and ready to rail us into blissful oblivion until our eyes cross.

Enjoy our bird brain — I made him just for us!





Run, we have to run, Ingram thought, as he leapt over his kindred to duck around a dense cluster of trees. Mist cloaked the surrounding area, so still and peaceful, unlike their frantic panting and fogged breaths.

It was unusual for them to run from any fight. Together, they were an unstoppable force of snapping fangs, slicing claws, and frightening roars.

He glanced at Aleron, whose bat skull turned – as though they shared a desire to look upon each other.

They both knew the truth. There are too many of them.

It had started with only two or three Demons, but over the hours the fight ensued, more had come. They’d killed a number of the shadowy creatures in the hours they had been hunted, and had long ago succumbed to their darkest and most erratic thoughts.

It became too much.

Rivulets of dried blood stuck to the scales of Ingram’s neck and chest from when he’d been severely wounded. Although he was perfectly fine now, despite the deep wound still gaping, it’d been what shocked him out of his enraged mind frame.

When he’d cowered in fear, with a wall of Demons in front of him, his kindred had mirrored his behaviour. Like they were sharing their fear, pain, and a conscience, they both ran.

Ingram was slower. He’d lost blood, and he was more injured than his kindred. His strength wasn’t at its normal capacity.

Aleron never left his side.

His panic-stricken heart gave a warm pang for his kindred whenever he dropped back to keep pace with him. Even though Ingram was limping, and the deep impact of his hand hitting the firm ground caused him to whine, he was never left behind.

The middle of the night had long passed, and dawn was beginning to colour the sky. He couldn’t see the change through the dense canopy of thick brush, but dew was evaporating all around him and the familiar tang of it infiltrated the nose holes of his raven beak.

It smelt like morning.

Ingram knew where they were heading, even though neither had spoken of it.

Merikh’s cave is not much further.

Out of all the Mavka they’d met, Merikh was their least favourite. Fortunately though, his home was close, since they were in the southeast of the Veil – whereas the other Mavka were all northwest. His glowing red protective ward would still be in place, even though he’d disappeared.

He always disappears.

We will be safe there.

They could recuperate. Could heal. Could figure out where they wanted to go once the chaos had died down.

Ingram looked up when white swooped into his sight.

The Witch Owl.

Currently, she flew over them in her human-sized, white owl form. Though their sprint through the forest was sporadic and unpredictable, she continued to fly above them.

All throughout the night, she’d been there.

Neither knew why she was following them, nor why she had eventually fought alongside them in her human form.

Both had been surprised when a woman with brown skin and long, curly dark hair had pulled a dagger from somewhere on her person. They’d attempted to destroy her. The invisible hands massaging the goo of their brains had rendered their thoughts violent, telling them she was a threat.

Everything had been foe, had been meat. Only they were safe from each other in their monstrous, enraged states. Not even other Mavka were spared.

Only them; one bonded unit.

“Keep going,” Aleron barked, nudging Ingram forward when his injured arm caused him to trip in a ditch.

Usually, Aleron would have snickered at him for almost falling on his face, but there was no time for laughter now.

“Not much further.” Ingram nudged him back so he could quicken his kindred’s pace. “Do not slow down.”

“I am with you.”

Ingram’s purple sight flashed bright pink in answer, mimicking his kindred’s normal orb colouring. “I know.”

Warmth flared in his chest, knowing his kindred was with him always, but it was suffocated by the snarls and gurgles that drew closer.

They were faster than their foes, but they were growing in number by the hour. They came from everywhere, calling to each other – as though it had been planned.

A snarl reverberated off the wall of trees they sped past. The Demon King.

They couldn’t see the castle, but Ingram still sensed the foreboding structure that loomed in the back of his mind.

The Demon King was nowhere to be seen. He had not come to attack them, but they knew without a doubt this was his doing. The Demons had never banded together like this. It was like an army had been called to destroy them.

This had only begun after they were offered a chance to join the Demon King’s army, and they both had laughed their way through the forest. Laughed and laughed, as they heard his threat in the distance behind them.

A misguided thought from many, many full moons ago.

“Do you think Merikh has anything to do with this?” Ingram asked.

His kindred shook his bat-skulled head. “I do not know.”

Annoyance lifted the spikes going down his back. Why didn’t Aleron know? Why did he never have any of the answers to his questions?

It never registered that Ingram couldn’t answer Aleron’s either – or that they experienced everything at the same time, growing knowledge and humanity simultaneously.

“The Demons began attacking us more forcefully since his disappearance,” Ingram pushed.

Merikh and the pretty Elven creature they’d met had disappeared from his cave almost five full moons ago. They had liked her; she was nice to them. They’d never had anyone outside of Mavka be kind to them.

Ingram had liked the stars in her eyes, and Aleron had liked the smell of her coily white hair.

“Do you think he joined Jabez?”

“I do not know. Would he want us destroyed?”

“Maybe?” Then Aleron thought better of it and answered, “No.”

“No,” Ingram repeated. “He would let us rest in his home.”

“He named us. He always leaves.”

This is true.

Merikh always left his home, unknowing that they would rest there regularly whenever he was gone. It was their safe place – even when he was there and would try to half-heartedly shoo them away.

“Then why is this– Above!” Aleron roared, a moment too late.

A serpent Demon, who had been using the cover of leaves, fell on top of Ingram. Sap was smeared over her, as though the serpent had covered herself in it to hide her scent.