A Soul to Embrace (Duskwalker Brides #8)

Chapter 7

Walking in the sun, Jabez carefully adjusted the hood of his cloak to avoid the light. He peeked down at his bare feet and noted they were mostly shielded from the burning rays by the attached black hem of his cloak. A minor quick sting occasionally assaulted his toes when he stepped too far out of the shade.

The tall grass helped to hide the lower half of his body, and he lifted his gaze when they came to the top of a short hill. For a few hours, they’d been crossing meadows by following the shade. When they couldn’t avoid the light as the sun reached its peak, he decided to just brave it.

Now that it was around midafternoon, he found the travel easier. He also basked in the heat, letting it soothe him – only because his cloak protected him.

They followed the top of the hill until a village within the distance became visible. Jabez pointed to it with his cloak covering his hand and explained what he could about everything. He wasn’t familiar with the farming lands beside it, but he thought by the long stalks that a great deal of it was corn.

Zylah listened, taking in the new information readily, as she always did.

His eyes flicked to her walking on two legs beside him, before quickly averting his gaze when it landed on her naked breasts. His cheeks warmed – not that he truly understood why. She was covered in fur, although it did little to hide her dark-grey nipples since the fur between her hips and breasts was sparse.

Perhaps we should find a place to reside somewhere close by.

Having access to human materials, all of which he’d steal within the cover of darkness, would greatly improve their lessons. She still needed to learn how to read, although he had taught her the alphabet by scribbling it in the dirt. Her burrow had been too small and inadequate for him to instruct her comfortably.

It would also be good for Jabez to have a food source that didn’t upset the soft-hearted Mavka. She didn’t like it when he hunted for meat, nor that she kept being the one who would finish his meal. It disturbed her for some reason, which he thought was ridiculous. She was one hundred percent a carnivore – a predator.

Denying this part of herself would be denying a large part of who she was. If I hadn’t come along, I don’t know how fast she would have evolved. He’d forced her hand and made her gain humanity.

His gaze came to her once more and lifted to her rabbit skull. He noted the black flesh that had formed between her upper and lower jaws, her more feminine antler structure, then he observed the grace of her stride.

Without him, he pondered if Zylah ever would have reached full maturity as a Mavka.

And speaking of maturity... Jabez flicked his eyes away once more when they’d absentmindedly fallen upon her breasts again. This time, his ears heated.

I need to clothe her , he thought, which was a strange notion to a creature such as him.

Not only did most Demons not wear clothing unless they were in the final stages of their evolution, but the Elvish people weren’t prudes. They didn’t frolic around half naked, but they also didn’t deny their true naked form. Even Jabez, for most of his life, had worn very little – although he’d had a multitude of reasons for this.

However, ever since he’d taught her how to transform into her humanoid form, her nudity had been making him... uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because most developed Demons and Elves didn’t flash their naked breasts or pubic mound confidently.

Zylah had no idea about the concept of nudity or modesty. She is covered in fur. That seemed to make little difference to Jabez.

She was naked, everything somewhat exposed, and her feminine humanoid body was a little too sensual for his liking.

Although her breasts were small, they were perky and jiggled with each of her footfalls. He hadn’t realised her rib bones had sunken so much with each new creature he fed her that they were now mostly hidden behind the mounds.

He attempted to stay in her shadow, but her transformation offered him less than he’d anticipated. When she first stood in her monstrous form before I took her to feed, she’d been over eight feet tall. Now, she was barely seven feet, and only a mere three inches taller than him – which was nothing.

He cast his gaze to her feet, noticing how human they appeared. When she’s in her monstrous form, she walks on her toes like a bunny. Now, her feet were short and flat, and almost... dainty like a woman’s. The only thing keeping them from being truly humanoid was her puffy rabbit toes.

The difference between her two forms was rather vast. Her black fur grew shorter except for the collar around her throat and chest, which almost hid her sternum and attempted to make the top of her breasts look fuller. He wished that fur would cover her dark-grey nipples, breasts, and abdomen.

Her legs stopped bowing, and had thinned into two feminine, muscular limbs. Her thighs were dense, which accentuated her wide hips and, annoyingly, supported a rather large and round rump. Her rabbit tail sat above it and somehow made her arse look... cute?

Which, of course, alarmed Jabez.

He chalked it up to the fact that rabbits were cute creatures, and his... appreciation was due to that.

It didn’t help that her waist was narrow, giving her an hourglass figure. Except he disliked this feature, as it showed she required more food to stabilise her body – more meat, which she cried about consuming.

He was also dreading forcing the issue if it made her curves more pronounced. Even now, her thighs and backside were thick and plump, making them womanly and strong.

Once more, she proves me wrong. He’d been thinking that she would lack overly feminine features, especially breasts, considering what she was. Their smallness reflected this, as if they’d never function how a human woman’s would, but the fact that she had them at all was what puzzled him.

Then again, her antlers became smaller. And he’d never seen nor heard of a Mavka’s skull and horns changing... ever . I’m guessing each gender goes through a different pathway of evolution.

Musing about it wouldn’t answer his questions, but he did like pondering it.

He looked at the village one last time before making his decision. I’ll figure out how to come back here and find suitable clothing for her.

Not just because his gaze had more of an appreciative leer to it than even he was comfortable with, but also because it just felt... right to do so. He couldn’t have her walking around like a naked animal when he was treating her like an adult woman. That’s what his lessons were about; he was making her understand the world and language so they could finally converse.

So he could proposition her.

I’ll also pinch a few more books, and perhaps some parchment for us to write on. Now that she understood the concept of speech, he was fine-tuning sentence structure – something that was complex. He couldn’t just point to words and say, “This is what when , or how , or who means.” They were intangible concepts, and they required more repetition because even he struggled with how to explain them.

“Jabez,” Zylah called, her voice no longer monstrous due to her being in her humanoid form. She whacked him on the shoulder a few times. “Come.”

Desiring to stay in her shadow for protection, and seeing no issue with deviating from their listless path, he followed Zylah’s direction. He was curious to see what she’d scented, and why, for the first time in their travels, she wanted to go a certain way.

She took them to a flattened area of grass and pointed to it. Jabez knelt down on one knee in the middle of the squished stalks, his ears flicking as he touched the tracks and disturbances in the dirt that indicated something large had lain there.

“Mavka,” she stated, crouching next to him. “Like lizard?”

He eyed her as she spoke before inspecting the grass once more. He picked up a singular loose scale and sniffed it.

She’s right, this has the scent of a Mavka. Only a few hours old too. He scanned the area to see that its path came directly from the north, then headed east – the direction they’d been going.

“A lizard Mavka?” Jabez asked, cupping his jaw and furrowing his brows in thought. When recognition flashed within his mind, he waved behind his backside. “With a tail and a raven skull?”

Zylah nodded. “Yes. I have–” She chittered the words she was missing, waving her hands around. “Him.”

“You have met him before?”

She nodded, patting the end of her snout. “Human female. Orange hair.”

“He was travelling with a human woman with orange hair?” he asked, trying to fill in the gaps of her speech for assistance.

Zylah chittered appreciatively, her orbs flaring bright yellow. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her little bunny tail wiggling happily.

His humour in her tail’s reaction was short-lived, as something became apparent.

“You’re fucking joking,” he bit out, just as he picked up a stray hair. He sniffed it, but he wasn’t totally sure of the semi-familiar scent. “That little bitch... she survived? ”

How had a measly human survived whatever catastrophic magic had nearly disintegrated Jabez? Because if his assumptions were right, and he had a big feeling they were, this was the same redheaded woman who had almost killed him. It had to be, considering she had battled against him with two other Mavka brides – Reia and Zylah’s mother. He couldn’t remember her name. Even the Witch Owl had faced him that day.

Just to make sure, he turned to Zylah. “Did she have a burn scar on her face?” He ran his hand down the left side of his face.

“Scar?” She mimicked him before nodding. “Yes. This.”

The growl that escaped him was beastly. How? How had she survived? She died in my arms. Or rather, his meat shield had disintegrated in his hands until even he started to burn from the false yet very real-feeling sun bomb that struck the centre of his castle. Not even his skintight sun barrier spell had been able to survive it, although it likely had aided in him not being destroyed instantly.

At least I now understand why that woman assisted them. Somehow, the raven skull had gotten her on their side after his twin, the bat-skulled Mavka, had died. She was skilled in battle, so she’d either been a soldier or a Demonslayer.

With a snarl, Jabez fisted the Mavka scale that would disappear from the world in a day, leaving behind no trace of him.

It doesn’t matter. How she survived was pointless and inconsequential to him. Hopefully their paths never crossed again.

When Zylah quietly chittered in unease and fidgeted by scratching at her forearm, his anger waned. His aggressive sounds were making her uncomfortable.

He eventually sighed and dropped the scale. Jabez looked up just as a subtle breeze fluttered his clothing around his torso and whisked his hair forward.

Screw it. It’s mere retaliation. That’s what happened in war. He made many moves, and he knew they – especially the Witch Owl – would eventually make their own. He could allow his annoyance to fester, or just accept it as part of the callousness of war and hate.

His lips did curl in the strangest form of pride. You were close, Lindiwe.

Had Zylah not saved him, he doubted he would have lived much longer. He would have bled out, his magic sickness would have killed him without healing assistance, or a Demon would have eaten his unconscious body.

Your own grandchild thwarted your plans. When she discovered this, he could only imagine the unbridled rage she’d feel.

He’d been fighting against that woman for centuries, and they’d gone toe-to-toe so many times he could no longer count them. She thought him cruel because of what he’d done to her children, but he often wondered if she ever realised he retaliated just the same.

I did what was done to me, and then more.

Whether it be Lindiwe’s actions, or the repercussions of leaving him bleeding to death to retreat herself, he’d faced many adversities due to her and Weldir’s interference.

The sacrifice had been noble, whether he wanted to admit that or not.

Resigning to let go of his anger of the past, Jabez stood to assess the easterly direction the redhead and her Mavka had been travelling. He checked the raven skull’s tracks to see which way his claws pointed.

If we continue on our path, we may run into them. He’d much rather avoid anyone who may be hateful of him while he was so powerless. He also refused to be cornered like prey, having to rely on the power of his companion for assistance.

They couldn’t go back, as he didn’t want to return to Zylah’s burrow. North was towards the Veil, which meant more chances of running into a Demon – who would likely know his face or scent. That was fine, so long as they couldn’t escape into a dense and Demon-filled forest to inform others.

He turned towards the village. I guess we’ll go deeper south.

There may be a few caves, and mountain Demons had a tendency to live in solitude. They were harsh creatures, but less territorial except for their specific nest areas. They almost lived like a hive, keeping to themselves in their caves but understanding that those residing above them needed to cross their dwelling entrances to get higher.

With Zylah by his side, he doubted those Demons would come within sniffing range of them.

Zylah grumbled to herself as she sat inside a shallow cave that had formed halfway up a small mountain covered in forest. Much bigger than her burrow, she moved around with ease and picked up a rock to scratch at the ground in annoyance. She considered throwing it at the back of his head, but decided against it, knowing it would only make him growl at her.

She peeked over her shoulder at Jabez, noting he’d removed his cloak for the first time in days.

She’d already summarised that he wore it to protect his skin from the sun, as she’d seen him wince a few times when the light touched him. She’d never understood why he’d worn it in her home.

A home he was refusing to return to.

He kept saying no. That they would be staying here from now on. Zylah was disgruntled about this, as she longed to go back already.

She watched his arms move as he did some task all by himself. He held dark-grey fabric that shimmered in the smallest amount of light. She didn’t know what he was doing.

And she couldn’t approach him either.

Jabez didn’t like being snuck up on from behind, and he could be quite snappy when she did so. He would snarl and turn his head to her before quickly quietening, as if he hadn’t meant to have a small outburst. It was enough to warn her that he didn’t like people behind him.

Yet, he often gave her his back, as if he trusted her despite his misgivings – so long as she kept her distance.

If she approached from the side or front, he didn’t show a shred of irritation. She often wondered if he’d been attacked.

Jabez has scars, she mused, eyeing the way his white hair was brushed over his left shoulder.

It’d taken her a long time to notice them. They were so small, so thin, so weak in appearance, that she kept thinking she was mistaken. From afar, even to her, his skin looked mostly flawless except in a few spots.

Those spots with deeper, larger scarring made her realise what all the hairline marks were in his skin. He had a large scar that partially revealed itself throughout his hair and where it was now shaved. She’d seen a deep one on his lower back and then obvious claw marks on the back of his right thigh. She only saw these places when he bathed, which she watched since he didn’t seem to care.

She’d also inspected them when she first brought him to her home, and knew they were different to the black, magical markings he’d somewhat explained to her.

However, there were these barely noticeable, hairline scars all over his body. She’d even touched one and it felt like nothing. His skin was smooth, but there was a slightly darker discolouration like the rest of his bigger scars.

He had them everywhere. The worst was his throat and his back between his shoulder blades, as if... creatures kept trying to target his vital points. Even his poor ears appeared mangled, as if they’d regrown many times.

Or perhaps she was wrong, and these lines in his skin were normal.

Like he could feel her gaze on him, Jabez looked over his shoulder at her. Her sight turned a reddish pink, and she quickly looked up to the rocky ceiling to avoid his stare.

“Still upset with me?” he asked in the tone he often gave her when he’d cocked a brow.

“Yes,” she grumbled in response, wiggling her head to show her annoyance. “I want home.”

“I told you, we can’t return home.” He gave her a sigh, as if she was being bothersome. “It’s dirty, smells rotten, and it’s small. This is better.” He lifted his hands, one holding grey fabric while the other held a silver sewing needle – something he’d explained to her. “Most Mavka first live in a cave. The fact you dug a hole like a rabbit doesn’t surprise me, all things considered with your anatomy, but a cave is better. I can... deal with a cave.”

Zylah chittered in argument, despite understanding a large majority of what he’d said.

She hated that she couldn’t bend him to her will when he truly didn’t wish to do something. She’d learned that Jabez was remaining with her of his own volition, and not because she demanded it. He’d shown that he was truly in control of his actions, where he was, and where they went.

Zylah was faster than him, but he was more agile and had a better ability at reading what she’d do. It was like he saw her next five steps before she did.

So, if she handled him by grabbing his arm or horn, and he let her drag him around, then he didn’t care. He was fine with her direction when she didn’t know how to voice her wants. He accepted it.

When he refused, she was unable to grasp him, no matter how she tried.

She didn’t know why he remained with her, and she also didn’t care. He was staying because he wanted to; it alleviated the weight of her guilt.

So, when he put forth his demand about their relocation that he sprung on an unsuspecting Zylah, who happily followed him, she conceded. She wanted to keep him pleased in hopes that he would continue to stay at her side willingly.

She enjoyed his scent, his mostly calm presence, his deep, rumbly voice. She’d even begun to appreciate his appearance, especially his ears – she was learning they were rather expressive. They were more honest than his voice and face.

They seemed to reflect an uncertainty she couldn’t see in his constant bone-chilling stare.

He appeared cold and cruel, like winter. Yet he also came across as warm when he was patient with her, occasionally chuckling until even the ice in his gaze thawed into something much nicer.

They were rare, those moments, but she didn’t mind either side of him. Now that she was beginning to understand his words, his growls had softened, as if he’d only been doing them to speak in her language.

Since she hadn’t responded beyond making wordless noises, Jabez once more sighed. After using his fangs to cut the black string attached to the needle, he spun to face her.

“I know this is hard, Zylah. Change is never easy, but we can’t go back to your burrow.”

“Okay,” Zylah conceded, as her shoulders dropped. “We stay.”

His red eyes narrowed before gentling. “Alright. I have something for you.” He stood and presented the material in his hands to her. “Time for you to wear clothing.”

She took it from him without a shred of understanding as to the significance of the material. But she was happy he’d gifted her something, and she sniffed it when she noted his luscious scent all over it.

When they’d passed the village much earlier in the day, Jabez had disappeared inside it. Zylah had been thankful he hadn’t intended on making her cause destruction within it. He’d returned shortly with a second bag filled with varying scents, and the dark-grey cloth folded over the top of it.

He’d already started eating from the contents of the satchel.

When they’d found this cave, and evicted its occupants in the dark of night, he’d shown her what else he’d obtained. An empty notebook for her to use for further studying. A reading book, which he’d added to the two he’d apparently already had – not that she’d seen them before. Then, he’d shown her a dictionary, a small pile of food and, lastly, the material.

Since then, until long after the sun rose once more, he’d been busy with the cloth. Zylah believed their time together would have been different if she hadn’t been sulking for hours. They’d argued about her wanting to go home.

Her displeasure dissipated with the light weight of her gift.

As if he could tell she didn’t know what to do with it, he gestured for her to come closer and give it back. He knelt while directing her to stand in the middle of the loop of fabric, and he pulled it up her body.

“It’s a dress,” he stated, as he threaded her arms through the thin shoulder straps.

Then he stepped back as always, putting space between them.

Zylah touched the silky material and chittered happily. She liked it, and seeing as he also wore clothing, it meant she didn’t feel uneasy about it. Now that she thought deeper on it, she preferred this; everyone else was clothed, so she should be as well.

“Shit,” he rasped out, lifting a hand to cover his mouth and dart his eyes to the side. “I think it may be too short.”

The length of it came to the tops of her thighs. When she turned her head, she noticed that her tail was barely covered. The moment she twisted her body or lifted her arms, the bottom of the dress slipped between her back and upward-pointing tail tuft.

“I like it,” Zylah stated, more comfortable with her tail exposed. Covering it felt odd on her fur, and she itched at her torso when she realised there, too, felt odd. “It is... good? What is better than good?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Pretty, I guess? I doubt you mean something strong, like beautiful or majestic.” Then he shook his head while scratching at the side of his neck. “But even that’s a stretch. I don’t know how to sew, so everything I’m doing is shitty in comparison to a proper seamstress. If I took you to our village...”

He paused, as if his rambling reminded him of something harsh. His features turned ashen, like they did when he was unwell, before they hardened into something deeper.

She wished she understood enough to ask him what was wrong. Why had his face suddenly looked so strained that even his lips thinned? There was obviously a darkness within his mind, and Zylah didn’t lack the heart to delve into it, just the words to express that to him.

“I think that’s out of the question for now,” he said, before sitting down once more. He shuffled his bag closer and yanked out the notebook with an annoyed roughness to his movements. “Alright. I think it’s time you finally learn how to read and write.”

Zylah tilted her head at his disgruntled appearance. She hoped that wasn’t due to her.

“Thank you, Jabez,” she stated, and his gaze flicked up to her in surprise. She chittered nervously, then soothed her heart by patting her chest. “Thank you for the dress . Thank you for... teaching me.”

Her sight shifted to a bright reddish pink in embarrassment, and she squirmed under his regard. Even more so when he cast her an odd smile, which only lifted one side of his lips. The tips of his ears drooped a little, which made his features soften somehow.

“You’re welcome,” he answered warmly.

Zylah melted under the power of that warmth when it touched beneath her sternum and radiated.