A Soul to Embrace (Duskwalker Brides #8)

Chapter 27

As much as Jabez would have liked to continue lying down with his sleeping companion, he eventually abandoned their cuddle. The gashes in his back constantly throbbed, as did his mind. His movements pulled across his taut skin when he quietly slipped on his pants and tied them.

Then, facing Zylah, he rested against the wall with only his horns and upper back keeping him upright.

His mind remained dozy – groggy even. Despite the concerns looming over his head like a cloud of rain, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept that well.

Perhaps it had been the nestle of her body up against his own as the satisfaction still simmered beneath the surface of his skin. Maybe it was because it just felt nice to hold someone while he slept, rather than strategically annoying the shit out of his companion, so they didn’t know he was making them leave through manipulation.

Jabez always slept alone for his own peace of mind.

It’s funny how that had stopped being an issue with Zylah quite some time ago. One of the most dangerous creatures in the world, and I slept like a babe today.

His gaze drifted to the late-morning sun peeking into their cave, and he reached his hand out to touch it. Since he used his magic to cover his skin in a barrier that could handle its intensity, there was no burning sensation like usual.

If only I’d been able to protect myself then. Had that barrier assisted him in his fight against Lindiwe and her three little humans, he wouldn’t have needed saving. He wouldn’t have almost died.

He wouldn’t be here, with Zylah, with conflicting thoughts and feelings. For many reasons, he wished that battle had never happened.

I’d probably be gone by now. He’d already schemed his next plan and had just finished scouting Nyl’theria to come up with the best strategy. He had multiple options – some suicidal, some not.

To rain down terror, or be... political. Political was never his strong suit. He liked things going his way, and he liked things working in his favour. He was argumentative, arrogant, and stubborn – an unbending force. He would rather head-butt the person he was arguing with than listen.

The political option would be slow, which, in his mind, meant pointless. He wanted what he wanted, and he wanted it now. He’d been saying that for over three hundred years, after all.

Had I left before facing that battle... His gaze slipped to a sleeping Zylah. None of this would have happened.

He would have continued forward, blissfully unaware of her existence. No worrisome thoughts, no concerns about his faltering emotions. He would’ve been empty inside, and part of him preferred that.

He hated this wavering; it’d never happened to him before.

He also hated himself for knowing the absolute truth. He still planned to leave this realm because he could never choose her over his vengeance.

He’d have to give up... everything. And everything was the one thing that had kept him alive and fighting all his life. To lose that would be like losing his sense of self. It was who he was, and all he’d ever known. He’d have to reshape himself completely, and doing that in this realm was abhorrent to him.

He hated the Elvish, not Nyl’theria. He missed home, and he’d missed it his whole damn life. He missed the heat, the plant life, and the lifestyle. He was tired of being resilient, of being strong. He wanted support, comfort, and to be among people that wouldn’t scorn him nor try to hurt him.

He was tired of freezing his ass off in a world of humans who rejected him, and it was only the monsters in the shadows who accepted him – while wanting a piece of him for dinner.

The humans are cruel. They would never welcome Demons into their fold, not even non-violent and fully complete ones.

He’d experienced firsthand what that was like, the callousness humans were capable of, and he refused them just as much as he refused the Elysians.

So where did that leave him? Not here, obviously. But what did that mean for Zylah? He kept wishing for clarity on that, but Jabez was entirely torn. He wanted her to come with him for all the right reasons, but he wanted her to stay where it was safe for all the right reasons too.

Sure, she had Demons and humans to contend with here, but it was nothing like the violence within the forests of Nyl’theria. There are some Demons bigger than me there. And he usually towered over everything except a Mavka.

In the Elven world, even Mavka would end up being prey, depending on the kind of swarm chasing them.

Shit, he thought, shoving his fingers into his clenched eyes. It would have been easier if I’d never met her.

Why did she have to be this damn way? She had no right to be so cute or sweet. And after this morning, he knew her to be naughty, sensual, and could wind him up into a madman. A conflicting mixture that was apparently just the right blend to confuse the hell out of him.

That bundle of adorable chaos stirred, breaking him from his thoughts when she suddenly sat up. She immediately searched for him with white orbs, and her tense shoulders softened at seeing him still here.

He’d been hoping for more time to piece together his mind. A few minutes was barely enough to digest anything – let alone their intimacy that had him questioning much.

At the reminder, his dick jerked, ready to go again after the rest he’d gotten. It didn’t help that the blanket fell to her hips, revealing her naked chest and the contraceptive chain around her waist.

“Morning,” he greeted, forcing a mild smile.

She turned her head away as she scratched at the side of her neck. “I don’t know why, but I worried you left without saying anything,” she muttered, her orbs shifting to a reddish pink.

So, part of her was instinctively aware or intuitive enough to know something was wrong.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he lied.

He absolutely would do that, just apparently not to her.

Then, to his absolute destruction, she shifted to her hands and knees... and crawled to him. Naked. Her tail and small breasts were easily viewable, and the evidence of their prior intimacy clung to her scent.

Jabez stifled his cringing groan, his cock jerking once more, and hid his heating face behind his hand. Apparently his body was still hungry for her, and she wasn’t making it any easier for him.

She paused at his reaction right as she was above his straightened legs and sat back on her feet. “Did I do something wrong?”

He drew his palm down his face, as humour lit his distressed gaze. “I just had a female I’m attracted to crawl to me naked on her hands and knees. How did you think I was going to react?”

She lifted her arms to look down at her body, as if she didn’t see the issue at first. It apparently registered, because she fucking flicked the head of his hardening cock. He flinched and bit out a growl as he grabbed her and brought her closer so she couldn’t so easily touch it again.

I think I need tighter pants. The loose material constantly gave him away like a horny virgin ready to get his first lay.

“Why is that a bad thing?” she asked, tilting her head as she settled on his lap, his dick precariously nestling between her cheeks.

And just like that, his earlier whirling thoughts dissipated under the power of her unwitting wiles.

It made him want to be playful with her.

Jabez had yet to be truly that way with her. He knew how to fight sensuality with sensuality, and that he could effortlessly win against her.

She’d quickly learn he could be rather devious and cheeky. If she was this way already, he could only imagine how much he’d screw himself over by teasing her when she’d likely turn it around on him and get him riled up. He’d always been a fan of those kinds of games.

Jabez grabbed the end of her snout and wiggled her skull side to side in his big fist. “I should have known this skull type of yours would end up meaning you’re a menace. I’m assuming you’ve never heard the term ‘fuck like rabbits,’ but it shouldn’t be too hard to guess its meaning.”

She produced this little giggle that instantly knotted his chest and stomach.

“Does that mean we can do it again?” Her orbs flickered with bright yellow, and he swore the base of her tail wagged in excitement... right on his cock.

I’m doomed.

He avoided her gaze by looking down, and a set of tits came into view, both nicely tipped with dark-grey nipples. The urge to touch them pestered him, his tongue licking against the roof of his mouth at the idea of tasting them again, but he managed to restrain himself – barely.

He sighed, realising the view wasn’t helping, and looked back up. “You’re worse than any female I’ve ever met. How can you be this obsessed with sex already?”

She’d had one proper feel of cock and apparently it was on the forefront of her mind. The fact she wasn’t even hiding it didn’t correspond with the shyness she’d once held, nor the fact that she’d only done it once. Well, technically twice.

Zylah scratched at the side of her bony snout bashfully. “Because I like it. It feels good.”

“We need to talk,” he redirected with strain, wincing because stating it hurt him .

Her orbs flickered with blue this time, but they quickly settled to teal. “Can’t we talk later?” She shook her backside against him. “I want more.”

Now that they’d broken down the physical barrier between them, and she knew he desired her, Jabez wondered if she was purposefully trying to utilise it against him. Did all this confidence truly come from her own desire, or her reluctance to let him go? Perhaps she thought the more they shared their bodies, the less likely he’d say what he came here to explain.

It was a good plan. Had he been a weaker creature, he may have faltered already. The talk of being intimate with her again had ensured his blood was throbbing against her, and his mind was getting fuzzy in its clarity.

Grappling to get control of the situation before he couldn’t think of anything but being buried inside that hot, perfect, tight pussy of hers, he searched for an out. Something to put between them, or rather, to bolster his self-control.

“Why don’t you show me what you look like in the other dress you got? The red one,” he asked, hoping that clothing her would ease his thoughts. It surely would stop his greedy gaze from drifting down to her breasts again... like it did now.

“Why? I’ll just want it off again.” Cheeky little minx.

She went to wrap her arms around his neck, but a hiss of pain whistled past his bared fangs as his back arched in surprise. She flung her hands away, only to pull his shoulder forward to look over it.

“I... you... you’re hurt !” she cried. “Did I do this?!”

Just as he was about to chuckle, the pain inconsequential to him, coolness radiated around his wounds. A curt snarl burst from him as he gripped both her wrists and shoved them into the air near her head.

It was too late. The sting of her claw marks faded, and his irritation only deepened when he tossed away her arms.

“You shouldn’t take away a man’s trophies, Zylah,” he rumbled with a glare. This time, he pulled her shoulder forward so he could see the wounds she’d taken from him. “Now you’re pointlessly hurt, when I’d been planning to heal myself.”

He’d just needed blood or meat – he could utilise either. He was also hungry, so it would have killed two requirements.

He may have been considering healing them only to a point. He usually ridded himself of noticeable scars, but he’d been fond of the idea of having the signs he’d pleasured a female well on his back. Her, especially. A little gift for him to remember.

“But I hurt you,” she whined, her orbs shifting to blue as she looked down at her sharp claws. “I don’t even know when I did it.”

He drifted his gaze to them and thumbed the needle-tipped point of one. “It would be wise for you to sheath your claws when you’re being intimate.” Then, thinking better of it, because he liked them scoring him, he added, “Or you can file them back, like this.”

Like he’d done to his own nails, he managed to singe away the sharpest part of her claws until they were blunter. She’d still be able to rend flesh with them, but it’d require much more force. If the male did her right, he shouldn’t have a problem gaining his own little trophies... just not so deep.

“I’m sorry,” she grumbled.

“I bite, you scratch. It’s fine,” he stated, offering her a pacifying grin.

She chittered, the sound light and sweet as she avoided his eyes. “But I don’t mind your fangs.”

Jabez didn’t know whether to sigh at how she wouldn’t let this go, or instantly nip her in want because she liked his fangs. No one liked his fangs. They weren’t short like human teeth, and they were pointed and sharp. He lacked long canines that usually helped to stop the rest of one’s fangs from sinking into someone unless a lot of pressure was given.

Instead, Jabez had a mean bite and needed very little pressure to pierce with them.

One reaction did eventually win out, and he leaned forward to close the space between them. He let his lips and the points of his fangs scrape up the length of her jaw, and her responding shiver delighted him. His hands moved of their own accord, steadying her by gripping both her arse cheeks, and once he felt them, he squeezed.

He stifled a groan at the growing scent of her arousal and resisted the urge to sink his fangs into her neck or shoulder.

“Get your dress, Zylah,” he pleaded, removing his shaking hands from her before he did actually lose it.

She let out a cute little growl before shuffling back and away. “Fine. I will find it.”

Obviously sexually frustrated and annoyed with him, she started throwing their messy bedding around as she searched for her bag.

His eyes crinkled in anguish when she did it on her fucking hands and knees! She dipped her torso, pushing her hips up right in his direction, and he caught a glimpse of her purple slit, pretty folds, and the entrance of her pussy.

His cock pulsated hard, the wrestle with his desire failed him, and he folded. A pant fell from him, and he knew all his precious blood was draining away from his brain and into his groin. He’d be useless in formulating a proper thought, and hopeless at fighting her if she argued with him.

Jabez dived forward. Grabbing her ankle, he yanked it to make her crumble and tackled her, pinning her down from above.

“Fine, you win,” he rasped against the back of her neck. Then he sunk his fangs into it while sliding his two trimmed fingers into her hot cunt from behind.

She instantly moaned and lifted her hips in welcome, and he shuddered at the wetness that greeted his delving fingers.

Screw it. Another day isn’t going to change anything. Or perhaps a few.

It wasn’t like Nyl’theria or the Elven city were going anywhere, and he really hadn’t gotten his fill of her yet.

Buzzing with satisfaction that she had gotten her way, Zylah threaded her right leg between both of Jabez’s when he rolled away from her after he came. She slipped her arm across his heaving abdomen and plonked the underside of her jaw on top of his chest to trap him down.

She liked how his heat and heartbeat radiated through the underside of her skull, and that his bergamot-and-sandalwood scent was right on the tip of her nose. She snorted a huff of contentment as she soaked in his naked body against hers.

At the sound, he tipped his head forward to look at her before his eyelids fluttered and his eyes rolled back. A last tremor came from him, and his nose wrinkled like he may have hidden a groan.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he croaked, his dulcet voice groggy and sinfully deep.

“Why?” she asked, squirming to get closer. Zylah still wanted more, but it was he who had been the one to stop.

I thought males were meant to have good stamina. Well, that’s what Fayren had warned her about when it came to Demons, not that Zylah understood why.

“Because there’s something in your arousal that keeps me hard even after I come, and then it makes me even more sensitive the second... third time.” He tilted his head to the side and fetched the pillow to shove it under his head for support. It also dipped his head forward, so he was able to look down at her. “It’s actually really fucking worrisome. That’s how you make someone’s heart give out.”

“You say fuck a lot,” Zylah commented, her purple orbs shifting to dark yellow.

“Is that a problem?” he countered, lifting a brow at her.

She shrugged. “You’ve never explained what it means.”

She knew a little about it from the past day, since it could be used in relation to the act of sex, but she hadn’t understood why he stated it in this context.

“Fuck has many meanings, from being frustrated, to angry, to sex. Same with the words: cunt, shit, damn. They’re curse words, usually used to be derogatory and offensive.” His relaxed features shifted into a malicious grin. “Which is exactly why I like them.”

She accepted his explanation and let silence fall over them. Zylah just gazed at him, liking that his red eyes were upon her and completely lacked any of their usual iciness or indifference. Elation simmered inside to see them shining so softly and warmly in her direction.

She released his torso so she could slide her hand up to his face. She sheathed her claws and touched his lips that had petted the side of her skull with what she thought were panted kisses. She brushed her fingers up the side of his high cheekbone, then up to his temple, before coming down to trace the path of his strong jaw.

“You are very pretty,” she whispered, brushing her thumb over his right brow, letting the short white hair tickle her.

His lips curled as his eyes crinkled in humour. “Only on the outside.”

She caressed one of his black tapered horns before sifting her fingers through his thick, long hair. “I don’t think so.”

“That’s because you don’t know me well enough,” he rebutted. “Most would say I’m ugly on the inside, and I’ve never had an issue with that.”

“Well... you’ve never been ugly towards me.” When his expression darkened, and he opened his mouth as if to refute her, Zylah slapped her hand over it. “You have never truly been mean to me directly. That’s all I care about. You have been kind, and I have seen that.”

His lips shut and flattened, but his expression didn’t soften.

She didn’t mind. Not when he let her brush down the curve of his nose with the side of her fingertip. Considering not even a month ago he appeared to hate being touched or having her near in any form, she was happy he’d let down his guard with her. He even let her cup his pointed ear so she could massage up the arch of it.

A shiver racked her spine when he trailed his fingertips along it like he wanted to pet her in return. Fondness ached behind her sternum at how he didn’t seem to mind caressing her fur, especially since he lacked any.

“You seem to like being on top of me.”

“Sorry.” Zylah leaned up to take away her weight. “Am I heavy?”

He wrapped his hand around the back of her skull and shoved it back down. “It wasn’t a complaint.”

Bright yellow lifted into her sight as she nuzzled into him. She shifted slightly, so more of her was on top of him, like she wanted to from the very beginning.

She wondered if he’d only commented on their position to distract her. If so, she wouldn’t let him get away with that.

“Will you tell me more about you, then?” she asked, hope filling her voice as she settled her hand on his chest.

“There is nothing pleasant for me to tell you.” His gaze hardened, and he looked down at her hand placement. “If you are seeking a happy conversation, this isn’t how to start one.”

“It doesn’t have to be happy, or important. Anything will do.” When his brows furrowed at her, she squeezed closer. “What about when you first came to Earth?”

“Ah, yes. Let’s start at the very worst, shall we?” he stated with a sigh while rolling his eyes. “I told you, Zylah, nothing is pleasant. Any memories I have that may have once been fond are shrouded by later events that made them unpleasant. People I’ve known who have died, left, or I fought with. Anyone remaining... those moments are merely empty events that hold no value, and I would consider them as pointless as talking about the weather. Anything else is merely time spent being social, as that is normal for any intelligent being.”

Disheartened to the point a pang blossomed behind her sternum, Zylah slipped her head to the side with a deep huff. Her orbs shifted to blue as sadness made a chill seep into her chest.

“Are you seriously pouting?” he asked incredulously, his jaw falling. Zylah let out another huff and turned her snout away more. “Ugh, fine. But I did warn you.”

Pleased she’d gotten her way, her tail swayed as she brought her gaze back to him.

“I had only just turned seventeen when I came to this realm,” he started, lifting his eyes to the ceiling as if he found it easier to talk to it. “After I spent so many years locked away, I admit my mind wasn’t well. I brought all those who were trapped with me to Earth, and we all struggled to adjust. It was cold – I think either winter or early spring – and I had to rely on my fellow Demons to help me through it. I didn’t know how to start a fire, how to hunt, how to fight. I only knew my instincts, and even then... I’d been locked away for so long that my instincts often failed me. I was young, ignorant, and my body was weak from disuse.”

Jabez absentmindedly traced his fingertips up and down her back, like he couldn’t help touching her. Perhaps he was just trying to distract himself.

Zylah tried not to arch into it, despite adoring the attention.

“The events of the first year are a little... messy. I don’t remember much of it. I have a scar across the back of my head from where some humans managed to club me with something, but I have no memory as to how I even got into a situation to be struck. It’s only been recently that those memories have begun to resurface, and I’m realising I may have accidentally entangled what happened afterwards with my treatment from the Elysians.”

“Do you know why they are resurfacing?” Zylah asked, curious if there was a reason that ignited it.

His lips tightened as his brows furrowed in deep thought. “I visited Merikh recently, and there was a familiar scent clinging to him. It reminded me of my childhood, and I think it’s triggered them.”

“Merikh is the bear-skulled Mavka, correct?”

“Yes. That’s correct.” One side of his mouth lifted as a chuckle fell from him. “Fuck, he’s gotten so big. I bet he would be an absolute beast to spar with now. With that much weight on him, it’d be impossible to take him down, and I’m sure he knows how to wield it. I think it suits him well. Unfortunately, his quills stop him from looking like a cuddly teddy bear, but I do wish I’d needled him with that, as I’m sure he would’ve taken it as an insult.”

He said he didn’t have anything pleasant, but Zylah found his humour and obvious fondness for this Merikh warm and tender. Was this the... friend he’d spoken of?

That warmth swiftly died, and his gaze turned distant, as if he could see past the ceiling.

“I learned quickly that humans are horrible little cretins when given the chance. They’re a superstitious bunch. They think a rabbit’s foot is lucky and will wear it on their person. I also believe they thought us to be pure Elves, and they wanted us to grant them wishes and gift them luck. Of course, being Demons who couldn’t understand their language, we did nothing more than hiss and snap our fangs at them. They caged us in silver, which they believed weakened us from the myths I’ve read. It doesn’t. But being strung up off the ground, incapable of using my earth magic, and being starved for days left me weak. They took us out one by one to harvest body parts and be cruel. No one managed to escape their own cages in time to stop the humans from siphoning my blood or cutting off my left ear as a charm. But the Demons did manage to save me. However, my blood scent is rather potent to them, as it has an Elvish tang to it that makes them rabid. So my allies then tried to eat me, even after promising they never would, but I don’t particularly blame them for that. They couldn’t help it.”

Zylah swallowed thickly. She wished her orbs didn’t reflect a sorrowful hue for him, especially when he looked down at her and his eyes bowed, but he patted the back of her skull.

“See? I told you; it’s unpleasant. There’s no need to feel sympathy for me, Zylah. I’ve come to accept all this, and I feel nothing regarding it.”

“But that’s horrible.”

Jabez shrugged. “I can’t change the past – not what has happened to me or what I’ve done. All those who harmed us died that day, and I managed to learn how to transplant body parts to myself, so I’ve always considered it beneficial.”

“Trans... plant?” Zylah asked, tilting her head. She’d never heard that word before.

“When you’re in pain and scared, you do stupid things. Once everyone calmed down and finished eating the humans, I was found trying to stick my own ear back to my head.” Despite the horribleness of what he just said, a boisterous chuckle came from him. “There is magic that is considered taboo, and I just wanted my own damn ear back so much that I managed to figure out how to heal it back onto myself.”

“That’s not funny,” Zylah grumbled.

“Maybe not, but I do find it rather pathetic of me.” Humour still lingered in his expression as he looked down at her. “If I wasn’t so distressed, I wouldn’t have figured out I can also use other people’s body parts to heal myself. Without that knowledge, I would be nothing but an earless, limbless torso rolling around on the ground. I would have perished a long time ago.”

“That sounds disgusting.” Zylah stuck her tongue out with a bleh.

She also couldn’t imagine doing such a thing, or the pain of having one’s ear removed – especially as she didn’t have fleshy lobes. But... she did know what it felt like to have her limbs missing, and she would never tell him that she had partially gone through that when she’d healed him.

The urge to caress his ear pestered her, and she wished she could soothe it now to make up for what happened back then.

“It really is. But you do what you can to survive. It takes a while for the attached limb to grow to my body size and match my skin colour, and about the same amount of time for me to fully use it. It also takes a lot of magic, so it left me ill from the ookmanik until I grew my mana capacity.”

Wanting to get away from this particular part of the conversation, Zylah asked, “What did you mean that you confused what the humans did to you with the treatment from the Elysians?”

Once more, he lifted his gaze to the ceiling. His tone was detached, as if he was talking about nothing important or of consequence. Zylah found it rather courageous that he could speak on these matters with such emptiness, whereas she likely would have grown teary.

She also found it really saddening. She wondered if cutting himself away from his past like this was the only way he could cope with it.

“My childhood still isn’t clear to me. I think the humans fractured my skull and impaired my memory when they hit me. I kind of remember my mother because she was always there whenever I was receiving treatment, and my stepfather assisted since he was a doctor. They often took blood from me, but I think... they also gave me much because I was unwell as a child. They fed a carnivore a vegetarian diet without realising it, and it was killing me. Those blood transfusions are likely the only thing that saved me, but seeing blood in a tube and then once again with the humans who were greedily taking it from me, I think I combined it all to be the Elysians. They locked me in a prison, and my damaged mind saw them also placing me in cages. I always remembered humans cutting off my ear and the fight that ensued afterwards, but I thought that was simply the result of a battle. Like I said, after visiting Merikh, only recently have those memories split apart and become clearer.”

“If that’s true, does that mean your hatred of the Elysians lessened?” If he misinterpreted what happened through injury...

“No,” he stated with a dark growl. “They may not have been the ones to torture me, but if they hadn’t locked me away like I was nothing but a beast, I wouldn’t have fled to Earth. Had they treated me better, done more to understand me, I wouldn’t have been subjected to everything I have suffered here. I never would have left my home, and I may have been able to live peacefully. All of that was stolen from me as a child.”

Unsure of how to respond, Zylah fidgeted through her unease by scratching her foreclaw over his chest.

“I will admit... my prison wasn’t as terrible as it could have been. They did try to make it comfortable, but it was a cage all the same. They gave me books to study, as if they thought one day I would be able to leave it. They gave me toys, puzzles, and anything a child could need to distract themselves. That didn’t stop me from going insane, bashing my head against the wall in my tiny world, but it did help. It’s just unfortunate I was so starved of the nutrients I needed that anytime someone attempted to speak to me for too long, the smell of their blood, their meat, the sound of their heart beating in their chest, would send me into a hunger-filled rage. I was starving, and with the transfusions I needed, it always ended in me being bound to a bed as I fought to get free to eat whoever was trying to help me. It prolonged my stay, despite them trying to rehabilitate me for the outside world.”

“Couldn’t you just tell them you needed to eat meat?” Zylah asked, unsure as to why he hadn’t shared that answer. He’d made sure she was aware of his need for meat, and she’d barely been coherent enough to understand him.

“I didn’t know,” he answered. “The Elysians are entirely vegetarian for physical and spiritual reasons. Me being part Elf meant it just never registered to them because it’s not their way of life. They did the same thing to the fully evolved Demons who asked for salvation, who all tried to live their way of life and ended up turning on them without meaning to. The hunger doesn’t feel like hunger. My stomach didn’t grumble, it just felt nauseous. I ate the fruit and vegetables they gave me, and those foods filled my stomach up without providing the nutrients I truly needed. I couldn’t ask for something I didn’t understand. I just wanted the stomach pain to end, but no one knew the answer, and they didn’t wish to cut me open to see if there was something wrong with my organs.”

“What did they do to those Demons?” Her orbs darkened in their blue hue, worried for the answer.

“They were imprisoned with me. It was foolish of the Elves, and the books they gave me to study were what eventually led to our escape. The ability to use earth magic through stone is not common, but I think my hybrid blend has gifted me with additional mana strength. I managed to learn how to do it with nothing else to keep me distracted; all I had was time to practise. Someone offered me their blood as a component to help strengthen it, rather than weakening myself, and I managed to destroy part of our underground prison. The bars of our cells were strong enough against us, but not from part of the ceiling collapsing. I used that same magic to create the canyon of the Veil.”

With a gasp ripping from her, Zylah sat up. “ You made the canyon?”

“When will you accept that I am a very powerful being?” he asked, a laugh at her expense bursting from him. “The humans think we arrived only three hundred years ago, because that’s when the canyon was formed. I was here years before that. More Demons were crossing over from the portal stone I’d stolen to escape Nyl’theria, and we needed a place that was shaded and dark. It helped that the centre of Austrális was nothing but brittle desert, and there were already many canyons. I just expanded them with what I’d learned from escaping my prison, and used the mana stones I obtained from Nyl’theria to aid the spell. It helped that I managed to teach that magic to the Demons who came here with me. I didn’t do it on my own, although I did grow most of the forest. I was a man who had a lot of anger and needed an outlet, so I found one.”

“When did you grow Spiral Haven then?”

“About a hundred years after that.”

With Zylah still sitting up in disbelief, she watched as his gaze drifted down to her bare chest, and then it darkened. His pupils expanded, and his jaw muscles flared as if he clenched his teeth. He sat up so he could curl an arm around her shoulders and drag her back down.

“Lie down.”

With a harrumph, Zylah conceded. It wasn’t hard to, since she was thrilled to be able to soak up more of his warmth, scent, and deep voice.

“What else can you tell me?” Zylah asked, her tail swaying. She didn’t care if it was all horrible and saddened, she just liked discovering more about him.

“I’m almost thirty-eight and feel fucking old.” When she licked her mouth in agitation, his response obviously not good enough, he groaned and threw his arms wide against the ground. “I don’t know what else you want to know. I only like to read because it makes me smarter. I hate hunting; I find it boring because I’m so good at it. I once liked travelling this realm because it has its own beauty that is unique in comparison to Nyl’theria, but I’ve seen it all now. Why don’t you tell me something about you?”

“But I don’t have anything to tell you. I don’t remember much from before you made me eat all those humans. You know everything about me.”

His eyes squinted at her, his white upper and lower lashes touching before settling back open. He sighed as he said, “I should have expected that answer.”

Hmm. What else can I ask him then? It appeared he needed direction. I don’t want to ask about any females. Just the idea had her sight wanting to shift to bright green from a nasty emotion nipping at her chest. I think if I ask about Merikh, it will upset him. If he thought so fondly about him, then Zylah imagined what happened between them would only aggrieve him because his friend was no longer in his life.

She did have something she wanted to know, but she was uneasy about asking. But if he tells me everything... then he will see how much I care about him. How willing she was to forgive and forget whatever he’d done in the past.

“Is there anything pertaining to Mavka you haven’t told me?”

Her sight shifted to a reddish pink when he gave her a suspicious glare. He said nothing for a short while, and she thought he wouldn’t answer.

He threw his head back against the pillow. “I guess the only thing missing would be that I and my human companion emotionally tortured one of your kind over the course of a hundred and eighty years.” He lifted a single finger, as if telling her to wait. “But, in my defence, he was the source of much of his own suffering.”

She tilted her head on his chest. “What do you mean?”

“Orpheus, the wolf-skulled Mavka, would seek a human offering every ten years. My companion didn’t like this. I don’t know if it was just because she hated him or if she was jealous – she was weirdly sensitive about the whole thing. We only stole six out of however many there were. He killed and ate many of them on his own, or they foolishly ran away into the Veil like idiots.”

“You stole his human companions?”

“Yes.” He shrugged, then looked in disinterest at the ceiling. “I’ve already explained, in part, why she hated him, but we did leave him alone the rest of the time. I couldn’t enter his protective salt circle when he was there, as all my threatening energy towards him would prevent me from doing so. Since he rarely left it, choosing to wallow in his own self-pity, he was essentially untouchable.”

“What... did you do to those humans?” Zylah asked, swallowing thickly.

“She told them she wanted to save them and would take them home.”

Why did Zylah get this terrible, foreboding chill down her spine? “What did she really want?”

“She didn’t care. She passed them on to me and would just watch my viewing rings to see how Orpheus fared in their absence.” He cupped his mouth and turned his head to the side. “I had no interest in eating them since the idea of eating something that can speak to me, beg and plead, actually leaves me with a sour taste. But they were food for my army to further reach their completion. I saw it as no different to what I did to help you. Human life is meaningless to me.”

“It’s meaningful to me,” Zylah grumbled, turning her skull away with red flickering in her sight.

A singular laugh hummed behind his closed lips. “I think it’s cute when you pout like that.”

And just like that, her annoyance faded and her sight shifted to reddish pink in bashful embarrassment.

“I don’t think I’m cute,” she muttered, hiding her orbs with a hand when the colour deepened. She liked that he kept calling her that.

“Why not? You want to convince me I’m capable of kindness, yet you won’t allow yourself something so simple.”

“I don’t know.” Zylah shrugged. “I have a skull, and I’m aware this is unusual. I am big, and I am scary. I’ve always known that.”

She actually thought many would find her skull ugly, especially since many creatures, humans and Demons, screamed at it.

Two warm and calloused hands cupped the sides of her jaw, and he forced her head forward. She lowered her hands to look at him.

“You are beautiful how you are. Unlike me, you are pretty on the inside and the outside.” Then he let her head go and it plonked back onto his chest.

Strange flutters quivered her belly, and she covered her face with her arms to fully hide it. She didn’t like how deftly his words made her chest squeeze in tenderness. How she felt about him conflicted with how she viewed what he’d done, and she wondered if it was wrong of her to harbour such affection for someone like him.

He wasn’t good; she could see that. She also still didn’t care, so long as he never directed all the malice he was capable of on her. She wasn’t innocent, she’d killed many creatures, and she didn’t even remember their faces.

She wanted to think he would change after he got what he wanted, and that he would stop this needless killing and bloodshed when he’d ended his war. She thought if that was possible, she’d be truly happy.

“What happened to your female companion?” Zylah asked, wanting to get away from the heart-stuttering conversation revolving around herself.

“Orpheus’ bride ran a sword through her chest,” he answered quietly.

Zylah gasped and removed her arms to unblock her sight, only to notice his features looked... calm. He didn’t go inwards and feign indifference.

“We had it coming,” he continued, his eyes flicking side to side as he bounced between her orbs. “Everything has a consequence, and if I hadn’t been so selfish in only learning how to heal myself, I could have saved her. But that’s what happens when you deal in death, you receive it back. I was angry at first, but I eventually realised it was a consequence of our actions, and any hurt was deserved. It was hypocritical of me, considering everything I’ve done in the name of my war.”

“You really are strange. You know you’ve done terrible things, you’ve accepted it and wear the weight of them, and yet...”

“I keep doing them?” He raised a questioning brow at her, and Zylah nodded. “Everything I do, no matter if it’s a mistake or not, is a step towards my goal. I shed how I feel, the good and the bad, and move forward. It’s how I’ve survived. I’ve been desensitised to it all after so long.”

I don’t think I want to learn anything more about his past right now. This was enough. It was a clear image to explain his past. She could piece the rest together in her mind from what she’d heard about humans, the Elvish, and then witnessed in Spiral Haven. He hated everything, even his own kinds, but forced himself to be accepted by the Demons.

And those Demons, too, had hurt him, tried to eat him. Even after he’d done so much for them by making the Veil and Spiral Haven.

He left carnage in his wake because everything wanted to see him suffer in some way, whether it was purposeful or an accident. No wonder he had no pleasant stories to share.

But Zylah did have one last question, and it had nothing to do with him. He’d even reminded her of it by speaking of Orpheus.

Zylah let her orbs shift to dark yellow in curiosity. “What is a bride? Rook spoke about this as well.”

His eyes widened, and the ball at his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“Shit,” he grated, covering his face as his ears tipped back. “I think this is enough talking for now.”

“Oh no you don’t!” Zylah exclaimed, sitting up so she could snatch his hand from his face. “I want to know about this. He said it’s like a mate, but for Mavka.”

His eyes crinkled as he sat up as well. He steadied his seated position by leaning back on straightened arms. “Yes, but if I tell you, I can already foresee you wanting to do it.”

“Please?” she tried to sweetly beg.

“It will only upset you once I explain it to you and you try to ask me for it.”

She scratched at the side of her snout to appear coy. “I promise I won’t?”

His handsome features twisted up. “Zylah...” he warned.

She shuffled her way into his lap, since that usually seemed to make him more receptive to her, and forced a whine to rattle from her chest. “If it’s something important about Mavka, don’t I deserve to know it?”

“Absolutely, but I’m trying really fucking hard not to hurt your feelings.”

Zylah shoved his shoulders until he was forced to lie against the ground, then gave him a half-hearted growl. Something tapped against the apex of her thighs, instantly quieting her in surprise.

“We could fuck instead?” he offered, looking down between them with his tongue dabbing at the seam of his lips. “I kind of like you on top of me like this, all growly and controlling.”

She didn’t like how arousal instantly heated her, and she reluctantly shook her head. As much as she wanted more, if he was evading this so much, then it was obviously important. It bothered him to tell her, and she wanted to know why.

When she didn’t falter, his face stiffened and turned cold. “I can easily teleport out of this position.”

“B-but you won’t,” she lied, unsure if that was true. When he cocked a brow at her incredulously, she chittered nervously. “You said you didn’t want to hurt my feelings. It will upset me if you do.”

His nose bunched up before he let out a deep groan. “Damnit, Zylah.”

She squealed when he rolled forward, easily battling her to sit up. Being careful of her own claw mark wounds on her back from healing him earlier, he wrapped an arm around her waist and shoved his head against her chest. An annoyed sigh fluttered out of him, making her fur wave around his face.

“A bride is the Mavka equivalent of a Demon’s mate. However, and I’m just guessing here, it is probably monogamous, it is likely permanent, and it appears to turn their companions into Phantoms.” His words muffled against her chest as Jabez spoke. With his head bowed, she could see nothing else but the top of his long white hair and dark horns. “Mavka can, essentially, live forever so long as your skulls aren’t destroyed. Since the Witch Owl has lived hundreds of years, I’m guessing that same quality has been passed down to whoever they choose to bond with. It’s... forever.”

“Oh,” Zylah rasped, her stomach knotting instantly.

He was right, and she kind of wished she didn’t know this now. Because as soon as he said it was forever, she immediately knew she wanted it to be him. She’d like to be tied to him permanently, but he’d already insinuated his answer to that would be a rejection.

Her sight swallowed up to a deep blue, just as the bottoms of her orbs wavered.

“I’ve... seen it. I watched Orpheus’ bride offer her soul and him eat it. I wasn’t even surprised when I watched it happen, or that a soul was involved. It was just an answer to a question I never knew I had.”

“Okay,” she replied quietly, letting her arms fall to the side. She managed to stifle any whimpers and held back the bottoms of her orbs from shattering.

Jabez tilted his head back and butted his chin against her chest. Noticing the wavering in her orbs, his eyes bowed. “Zylah, I can’t–”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore right now,” Zylah admitted. Feeling rather hollow, she didn’t want to hear the rest. She didn’t want to hear that he couldn’t or wouldn’t, nor whatever lame reason as to why.

She also refused to let him continue, in case he tried to say there was something... wrong with her, or that he wanted to leave her again. He’d come back when she’d truly feared he wouldn’t, but she constantly had this nagging sense that he was trying to make it temporary.

She didn’t want to believe that. She wanted his continued presence to mean that he felt deeply for her, and maybe... just maybe, the longer he stayed, the more he’d want her.

He nodded before his arm loosened. “Do you want me to let you go?”

Zylah shook her head. She liked being held, even if she was upset.

Perhaps it really was silly of her, but she wanted to believe she could change his mind. All he saw were flaws in himself, but she wanted the parts he couldn’t seem to see.

She didn’t care if it was wrong, if others thought less of her, so long as she got to see this... caring side. He understood she was upset, and he seemed to think well enough about her to know she’d figured out why he was so hesitant to tell her. She appreciated that, just as much as she felt the hidden compassion he had for her by simply holding her comfortingly.

She longed to believe it all had a deeper meaning, and that she wasn’t being silly.

I want to embrace all of him. The good, the bad, the happy, and the sad. She’d longed to hold his body, but now... I want his soul to embrace.

To hold it, keep it safe, maybe even nurture it.

“Do you want to go outside?” he asked, appearing to grapple for a way to make her feel better. “There are many places I can take you in an instant that you’ve likely never seen. The beach, the north, the top of the highest mountain in Austrális.”

Zylah shook her head again. She didn’t know what she wanted right then.

My chest hurts.