A Soul to Revive (Duskwalker Brides, #5)

“Oh!” he rasped, twisting his head over his neck in the most disturbing way to look at her where she sat on him. His glowing orbs morphed to a bright yellow. “Yes! I know that one. If you shake it, it breaks apart and floats away. I did not realise they were the same plant.”

Picturing Ingram shaking a dandelion in delighted curiosity, Emerie’s eyes crinkled and her lips curled with mirth.

His joy at learning even the simplest things was the only reason Emerie didn’t hate this. She was just tired, and riding a Duskwalker’s spikey back with a makeshift saddle was a lot harder than she thought. Her thighs ached from constantly pushing her body away from the protrusions, and most of the time she had to sit on her hands to protect herself.

At least he’s not asking me sexual questions.

Oh, but he’d tried.

When his dick had been just sitting there, casually erect when she’d tried to make him leave so she could bathe, she was acutely aware she had told him something she probably shouldn’t have.

Had he’d been staring at her tits? Whether it was her own prickling awareness of them or him trying to burn a hole through her shirt, they’d tingled. The urge to cover them like a virgin had crossed her mind.

After she’d bathed and they started back on their travels, Ingram had been a little... too close. He kept sniffing her hair or walking directly behind her. If he’d been trying to be sly, he did a horrible job of it.

He also asked her questions regarding her breasts and her pussy as he came up beside her. Emerie, unwilling to make this problem worse, found ways to redirect the conversation.

The more he learned, the more worried she became that he would start... trying things with her. A sexually curious Duskwalker sounded like a dangerous combination.

Even if she were to consider letting him discover all this with her, which she wasn’t, Emerie was worried about the size of him. Not just his massive dick that she’d needed to hold with both hands just to contain, but also his body.

What if he got too carried away and accidentally clawed her? Or crushed her as he laid down on top of her?

If he tries to shove his dick in me, he’ll split me in two. She rubbed her closed eyes with one hand, digging her thumb and fingers in. Frustration bubbled. He’s a virgin. Virgins don’t have any idea what they’re doing and barely understand their partner’s limitations.

Because if he did manage to fit in her much tinier and delicate hole, he’d probably pump her to death – and not in the fun way.

He’s really sweet, though.

Whenever she needed to rest, he would find a really soft section of grass for her. That, or he would make a nest of branches that had thick leaves to comfort her. He even offered to curl into a ball so she could lie on him when they stopped in a rather rocky area. She’d declined that option, of course, but it had made her heart burn with a tenderness.

He was also protective of her.

Whether it be a fox, a rodent, or even a bird, he’d warn it away with a snarl. It was unnecessary, and somewhat foolish, but the more harmless the creature, the more it made her smile warmly.

It was like he didn’t realise he was the most hazardous thing to her. Every moment with him meant the threat of death lingered over her head.

She stared at the back of his white raven skull. At least my grim reaper has a pretty face.

She’d found it a little off-putting at first, but that had diminished over time. His glowing, colour-changing orbs helped. She’d once thought of them as soulless and hollow, but now saw them for what they were.

Life. Emotions. The essence of a creature who couldn’t smile, but could show his joy with a simple bright-yellow glow, or instead express curiosity with a darker tone.

Once she figured out what each colour meant, he became easy to read.

The pinkish red means he’s either embarrassed or ashamed. He didn’t show this colour very often, but when combined with his inward-turned body language, he easily gave its meaning away.

Ingram could be shy, and each time he was, something stirred in her and made her belly flitter. A big, scary, towering monster acting bashful and nervous? How could anyone’s heart not warm to that?

White means he’s either scared, wary, or... in pain. She felt terrible when his orbs turned white when he’d been trying to undress her near the lake. She’d given him a fright. Him! A Duskwalker!

She didn’t plan to reveal the truth as to why.

I just didn’t want him to see my scars.

Emerie couldn’t remember if she’d ever shown anyone. She hated them. She hated that they were a part of her. They were a stark reminder of her past, her pain, everything she’d endured, and everything she’d lost.

She wondered if she would have shown Bryce, but he’d never, not even once, been inclined to have her remove her shirt. He’d just fondled underneath it, and mainly on her... right, which was where she didn’t have many scars.

A sinking feeling in her heart had her eyes stinging, and she quickly blinked the forming tears away.

Nope. Don’t want to think about it.

She didn’t want to think about Bryce and how she’d been an idiot to not see the obvious signs. She’d been used because she’d allowed herself to be an easy lay in her desperation for intimacy. She’d just wanted to feel... beautiful.

She hadn’t felt that way in a long time. I feel like such a loser.

A howl in the distance, thankfully, broke her from her spiralling thoughts. Two more followed, and both she and Ingram pointed their faces in the direction the sound was coming from.

“What is the name of those creatures?” Ingram asked, huffing in their direction before wisely veering away. He climbed down a rocky hill to land in a lower part of the forest.

“They’re wolves.”

“A Mavka has one of their skulls as his face.”

“He has a wolf skull for a head?” she asked, bouncing forward in interest.

“Yes, and spirally horns on his head. I have only seen him from afar, but he lives in a human dwelling.”

“Where does he live?”

“In the Veil, like all Mavka. He did not like it when we trampled over his... I don’t know what it is called, but it was filled with human food plants, like your berries.”

“A vegetable garden?” Emerie hummed, tapping at her lips. “Why would a Duskwalker need a garden, or a house?”

Ingram’s big shoulders shrugged beneath her knees. “I don’t know. He has always lived there. I think that is where the Witch Owl wants us to go.”

Emerie didn’t need to ask who that was, not when she’d seen Lindiwe turn into a giant owl in front of her.

Still tapping her lips with her fingers, she eventually pursed them in thought. “Lindiwe said we should go to your brothers. I’m guessing this wolf-headed Duskwalker is one of them?”

Once more, he shrugged. “I am unsure. He is Mavka, as we all are.”

That... didn’t really answer her question.

“Well, where did you come from then?”