A Soul to Revive (Duskwalker Brides, #5)

Ingram came closer and sat on his hind legs around her, wanting to crowd her even if he couldn’t hold her. Her adopted brother, Gideon, was off to the side, utterly bewildered and unsure of what to do.

It looked like he wanted to approach. When he tried, Aleron quickly interfered by slotting himself between them, and softly growled down at him. Ingram could tell his feathers had puffed in aggravation, warning the male human back.

His kindred had already grown protective of Ingram’s chosen female. The fact he had so swiftly, simply because of Ingram’s want of her, made tenderness wash through him.

Ingram cupped the side of her intangible face and hovered his palm there, giving himself the satisfaction of seeing his hand on her even if he could not feel it.

He swallowed thickly to remove the stuck emotions in his throat.

“I want you to be my bride,” he told her, tension he didn’t realise he’d been holding finally easing out of him.

“But I can’t,” she cried, her expression twisting horribly with anguish. “I’m not alive anymore, Ingram.”

Ingram lifted his skull towards Weldir, who did nothing but watch. He wanted his help to explain this as clearly as possible to her, but didn’t seem to realise that’s what he’d been silently asking.

Guess he had to do this on his own.

“Your soul survived, Emerie. They did not know if it would, but it means I can bring you back.”

Once more, he looked up at Weldir to twist his head at him. That was correct, right?

He received no answer.

“Y-you can?” she asked, her voice breaking an octave.

“Yes.” He completely gave up on Weldir’s assistance and just focused on the ghostly female before him. “Your soul is mine to revive, little butterfly.”

“I know why me,” Emerie rasped, averting her gaze to the side as she bit at her bottom lip. “But there are other humans, Ingram. Ones that aren’t scarred, or a little broken inside... or missing pieces. This seems like a lot of effort just for me.”

“I don’t want another human,” he warmly argued. “You are perfect, just as you are. You are colourful and patient with me, and your kindness touches me here.” He pointed to his chest, just where she once told him that someone special would touch him. “And you are so brave, even when you smell of fear. No other human could compare to you.”

Like she wanted to make humour of the situation to deflect her own emotions, or the fact his compliments had made her squirm like they often did, she grumbled something that had him chuckling.

“You just like how I make your dick feel.” She pouted.

“That too.” Spirit of the void help him – although he was being very unhelpful right now – he absolutely liked the way she made his dick feel. Having more, an eternity worth of pleasure, was hard to give up.

But he would give it up if it was not shared with her.

“Emerie,” he started, about to tell her the depth of his adoration for her, and how he realised it even before the blast that had stolen her from him happened.

She cut him off.

“I need to tell you something,” she whispered, gripping at her elbow. “I-I made some choices, ones I regret but can’t take back. It means I can’t give you what Mayumi has for Faunus. I can’t give–”

Her expression morphed into one that stung behind his sternum. One of regret, of pain and tears, of loss and grief.

“I’m really sorry,” she said as she covered her face so she could sob into her hands. “If I knew... If I knew I would meet you one day, I wouldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t have let them take this away from me. I can’t be your bride if you want children, Ingram. I-I can’t do that to you, or me. So, p-please, if that is something you want, go back.”

Ingram now understood why the Witch Owl had been so adamant in explaining this to him.

If he’d tried to convince Emerie otherwise, or say that he was sure they could find a way to change it, he would have irrevocably hurt her in this moment.

He would have lost her, forever.

“I know,” Ingram stated softly, wishing he could lower her hands to see her.

“P-pardon?” she rasped.

“I already know, Emerie. And I do not care.” She slid her hands down just enough to peek at him over her fingertips. He sat back slightly to give her room and let her fully see him. “The idea of having younglings... yes, I wanted them, but only with you. If you cannot have them, then I don’t want them at all.”

“Ingram,” she whined, as if his honesty had been painful to hear.

“I don’t want another human, Emerie. I cannot picture a future in that world without you. Now that I know this about you, I do not see younglings and desire them. I only want you and your warmth, your scent, and your presence. You are all that I need.”

“W-what about Aleron?” Emerie asked, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“I need him as well, but it is different. He is here, and he cannot come with me. But you can, and that is all I crave right now.”

She turned back to him, and her expression no longer appeared distraught, but rather... shy. His sight turned bright pink as he looked upon her, and it ignited heat within his chest. Ingram hoped his next words made her smile.

“I am sorry I did not realise it before you tried to take yourself away from me, but I love you, Emerie. We are connected, but I would like to make us one. I would like for you to be my bride, so I can show you that love in all the forms I can.”

Her bottom lip trembled as both twitched and curled upwards at the edges.

“I-I really wish I could hug you right now,” she said with her voice shaking. “But I love you too, Ingram. I’ve known that for a while.”

She did? He gave an annoyed huff. “Then why did you not tell me?”

Even though he asked this, a thrill shot through him at her saying she loved him in return. His tail tip curled so tightly in delight it coiled halfway up its length, and his spikes tremored. The pink in his vision brightened around the edges until all he could see was her.

“I didn’t know if you really understood it or felt that way towards me.” She lowered her gaze to avoid his. “Your orbs never turned pink for me.”

“They are pink now,” he assured, looking at her ghostly form with tendrils of pink in it from his own vision.

“They are?” She reached up around the side of his empty eye sockets like she wanted to touch them. “I want to see them. You’re just... purple.”

“They are. So, my little butterfly, will you let me revive you so I can make you my bride?”

“I would like that more than anything.” However, she looked over her shoulder once more. “But... can we stay here for a little longer? I want to be with Gideon while I can.”

Ingram looked down at his purple, spectral claws, then his arms and legs that were entirely transparent. He faced his beak towards Weldir.

“You have time,” he answered. “I will let you all speak privately. Just have Aleron call for me when you are ready.” Then, right before he left, he stated, “Also, make sure to have Aleron touch them within an hour, otherwise they’ll slip back into their memories and forget.”