A Soul to Embrace (Duskwalker Brides #8)

Chapter 28

Jabez’s right ear twitched at the shuffling and movement he heard behind him. With his eyes closed, his face lifted towards the sky, and seated in a cross-legged position with his back facing the entryway, he listened to Zylah.

He’d not long ago awoken after another deep and restful sleep and had managed to teleport from her limbs without disturbing her. She’d struggled to fall asleep, and it had taken effort on his part.

I wonder if she’s still upset.

He’d tried his hardest to make it up to her, since he knew he was the source of her disquiet. However, she hadn’t wanted to go anywhere, she’d been less enthused about talking, and she hadn’t even wanted to read. Instead of hunting like he’d planned, he’d teleported to the human cornfield village to raid one of their butchers and returned to find her even more distressed than before he’d left.

She’d been awfully clingy.

That wasn’t something he was usually inclined to enjoy. He generally lacked anything warm and fuzzy within him, so he found clinginess abhorrent and frustrating. He didn’t like the clutching, as if they thought they could possess him and take his non-existent heart for themselves. He’d liked his bed-companions as distant as he was, to be there for the sex, maybe some playful teasing, and then to get up when they knew they were overstaying their welcome.

Katerina had been a little different, as she’d been his companion for a long time. In some aspects, she’d become his sole confidant, but he never shared anything important pertaining to his feelings. Just his plans and goals. She’d sip wine and offer pointless human ideas and sentiments while trying to fuel her hatred through him. Then she’d try to redirect his thoughts to the destruction of Mavka, and therefore, Orpheus.

The idea of falling asleep next to her left him paranoid that she was lying to him as well and would eventually stab him in the heart while he was unaware.

So absorbed in herself, she never even noticed him growing more and more distant with each year – especially towards the end.

But with Zylah...

His lips twitched to curl in humour at himself.

The more she’d clung to him, the tighter he’d tried to make her latch. Her body was sensitive all over, and even just running his fingertips through the fur of her back had her trembling for more. She was exceptionally receptive to any kind of touch. Whether it be his palms running over her, or his fangs scraping against her, his tongue, his lips, even his long hair, she reacted to it.

By the time he had his cock inside her, he realised he was trying to consume her tenderly. He never fucked with tenderness. Sure, he could be entirely focused on someone else’s pleasure, rather than just his own, but Zylah’s clinging had him trying to get closer, deeper, or hold her as tight as possible.

What he found distressing about it was that the damn hole in his chest felt like it was growing something. Each of her soft sounds, her claws trying to dig, all of it ached behind his sternum as he gave long and slow thrusts.

Everything seemed to be different with her, and Jabez was finding it hard to digest that. I still don’t know what it is about her...

“I’m surprised to find you sitting in the sun,” Zylah’s voice drifted to him as she approached.

He opened his eyes and turned his face from the beckoning light to watch her take a seat beside him. She seemed most comfortable with her bunny feet out in front, her legs straight, and her back curled forward.

“I like the warmth,” he answered, noting she’d finally chosen to don the red dress he bought her. Most Demons, including himself, had an affinity to red due to their eye colour. “Now that I have my magic back, I can protect myself from burning, but I still feel its heat.”

He wore nothing but his mauve pants, choosing to soak in the rays without a shirt. He may be a creature of the shadows, but this was a small pleasure he’d gifted himself once he’d learned the spell. It piggybacked off the one that shielded him from the cold, and both were the only reasons he could truly stand this realm.

Zylah’s orbs turned black as she lifted her face to the sun like he’d been, letting it cascade over her. It made the bones of her skull appear even whiter, and the shadow of her dainty antlers longer and more menacing.

She’s pretty in the light. It even made her fur shine.

“This is nice,” she commented, eventually opening her orbs to reveal bright yellow. “I’ve always wanted to sit in the sun with you.”

“I would have sat in it with my cloak on had you asked.”

“Really?” she blurted, her voice high with joy as she turned her face to him. Her little tail tuft swayed lightly. “I wish I had known that.”

He offered her a small smile to reconfirm what he’d said.

They sat in comfortable silence as they stared into the descending hill of forest before them. Only half the trees had their leaves, but they would surely begin to grow back once winter ended. He imagined that was now less than a month away, and he almost couldn’t believe it’d been that long.

A small breeze wrapped around them, light and airy, fresh and filled with dew.

This moment with her was surprisingly serene. The quiet, soaking up the world, the sun, even the wind, while knowing she was by his side, was tranquil. He’d never been this at ease before.

The only way to have made it better would have been to bring her into his arms so he could share it in a more intimate way.

He checked on Zylah when she fidgeted, the quiet sound of her claws clicking together making his ears prick. Her teal orbs were bluer than normal, and he figured she was still dwelling on their conversation from the previous day.

Unfortunately, her pushing for those answers meant the conversation he’d been evading steadily approached. He could prolong this. He could ignore it for another day or two just to have more of her, to figure out what was happening within him, but what was the point?

His goal would never change, and that had been firm this entire time. Not even the confusing feelings he had for her were wavering his need for vengeance, only how he wished to enact it.

He wanted to be a waking hell, so that he could obtain the Eden he’d been seeking all along. A real, tangible piece of heaven that was built on the decimation of an entire species until he was the last one left.

“Zylah,” he called gently, lifting his hand so the back of his knuckles could brush against her bony cheek. A cold pang lanced his chest as he softly stated, “I can’t stay here for much longer.”

The bottoms of her blue orbs instantly wavered. He wished that cold pang didn’t grow wider across his torso or make his stomach tighten.

“Why not?” she asked, her voice cracking as she fisted the skirt of her dress.

He tried to make his tone as gentle and regretful as he could. He wanted her to understand that his goal meant something to him, and that this decision was hard for him as well. “I need to go to Nyl’theria and finish what I set out to do. It was never my intention to make Earth my home. It was always temporary.”

“T-then I will go with you.”

He opened his mouth to refute her, but closed it and turned his head forward. His gaze dropped to look down at his hands on his lap.

So, her answer hasn’t changed. He didn’t think it had, but it was still hard to accept. After the last two days, he’d likely further solidified her feelings for him, but he didn’t know what he wanted anymore.

“You shouldn’t,” he finally answered.

“Why not?!” she cried, bringing her feet back so she could bend her knees and hug them. With her feet overlapping each other, she buried her skull against her knees just as floating tears sparkled in the sunlight. “You said that’s what you wanted. To use me in your war against the Elvish.”

But that was the issue: he knew, with absolute certainty, he no longer wanted that.

Yes, that would be the best advantage for him. Having the strength and speed of a Mavka at his side would make it much easier for him to dominate against the Demons there.

The reason he was so reluctant to accept her offer was actually remarkably simple.

“I don’t want to see you hurt,” he admitted, having finally come to understand the problem.

She wasn’t just some strange Mavka to him anymore. He... cared about her – in ways he didn’t want, and yet couldn’t seem to resist drowning in.

If the last two days were any indication, he wanted to entangle his body with hers constantly. Not because he was simply a male who was horny and happy to bed anything that came sniffing his way, but because he liked her.

She was all sweetness. Her personality was soft against the sharpness of his own, her kindness soothing against the malice within him. She was the parallel symmetry to everything that was wrong with him. Others may have been concerned she bore a skull for a face and was covered in fur from neck to toe, but he found her beauty enchanting because of it. She was smart, her conversations engaging and holding his attentive interest.

She’d been turned into someone remarkable, and he liked how he’d never been able to shape her personality to his whims. Instead, she remained steadfast in her own self, and slowly opened up into a creature who had been driving him insane with the opposite of what he thought he’d want in a mate – if he ever chose one.

He thought he’d want someone bitchy and catty so they could be strong against his crude arrogance. Someone sexual and overconfident, so he could dominate them for fun.

Instead, Zylah was cute and gentle, making him want to pamper her rather than needle her. She was sensual in a way that was bashful and shy, which only made him hunger to make her naughty and wicked. She was confident where it mattered, but easy to emotionally control, and that had him wanting to heed to her rather than have her bend to him.

He found her comforting, her scent and voice having the power to lull him. He’d never been able to find that in another – not even within himself.

She was the opposite of what he thought he’d consider attractive in another, and it kept throwing him off. Unpredictable, yet easy to read.

This is what he’d discovered in the past few days, and it only ensured he was more conflicted than ever.

With her skull buried against her knees, and refusing to unfurl herself, she asked, “But shouldn’t I be the one who gets to choose if I get hurt or not?”

“You’re asking to join me in a war, Zylah,” he stated with a solemn sigh, lifting his gaze to the forest to stare at it. “You’re asking me to watch you be hurt for something that is entirely my fault.”

“And what about you? What if you get hurt, or... or die ?” she croaked, her arms tightening around her legs.

“That is the price I’d pay for something I started.”

“But I’d never know... and I wouldn’t be there to heal you.”

“I have looked after myself my whole life,” he stated, as if she’d forgotten all he’d told her. He was capable of protecting himself to some degree and could heal himself. “This is my last chance, and if I don’t succeed this time...”

Well, Jabez wasn’t sure if he wanted to survive. He doubted he’d be able to live with the crushing defeat and regret. All he’d done... all the horrible, shitty, vile things... they’d be meaningless. He’d forgiven himself simply because there was no other way to move forward if he didn’t, so long as he still reached for the reason he did it all.

If that was gone, then he’d just done a bunch of fucked-up shit for no reason. Even if he’d failed miserably many times in the past, they had all been stepping stones in some way – a tactic that failed but ensured he made better moves in the future.

“Can’t you find another way?” Zylah pleaded, as a haunting whine ripped from her.

He crinkled his eyes in anguish, finding the sound unbearably painful, like it’d scraped against his very essence.

But I don’t want to be the reason she’s hurt. Physically... or emotionally.

Once he went to Nyl’theria and began his plans, he had a feeling he’d harden. He’d be on alert constantly, paranoid about those all around him. He’d be curt with her in front of Demons he didn’t trust, having to feign a lack of interest in her simply so they couldn’t use her against him. He thought she had the intelligence to understand that, so behind closed curtains he could dole affection on her freely, but she’d be a vulnerability for him.

A very, very difficult one to exploit, considering her attributes, but one nonetheless.

But he didn’t want his callousness or his actions to hurt her heart, which he thought may be a much easier way to pierce her. He’d be distracted, unable to give her the attention she sought, simply because he wanted to infiltrate the Elven city.

How was that fair?

The darkness in him wanted both: her and his goal. But at the same time, he wanted to be selfless for once. To protect her, even if it meant cutting himself out of her life.

He could ask her to wait so they could revisit them in the future and see what possibility could truly work between them. He was currently infatuated with her to the point she was halting him from moving forward. If there was a chance that he could develop more for her, he wasn’t against trying.

But he could be asking her to wait a long time for something that may never happen. He could die and never return. Presenting that future to her seemed crueller than anything; it could be a year, or a hundred, before he obtained what he wanted.

In that time, he didn’t know what he was capable of, nor who he may turn into. He may not want to come back once he was done.

She could find another and become besotted with them instead. And if he didn’t return, she may even be set on waiting for someone who never came. She could miss out on other opportunities, other potential companions who may be better suited and weren’t full of ugliness on the inside.

Yet it was that same ugliness that wanted to be greedy and selfishly keep her by his side, no matter the consequences.

So Jabez was stuck in this limbo of needing to decide if he’d let her come with him because she had managed to gnaw her way into his essence, or leave her behind so he didn’t destroy her. She may not even want him by the end if he killed her affection for him through his own arrogant stupidity.

She may continue to love him regardless.

There were so many unpredictable paths.

But there is one way... Just one where he felt he could have both.

Sure, there would be times that were hard, but they wouldn’t be smothered in bloodshed until the very end. Not like if he were to attempt domination by instilling fear and violence to get his way – which, of course, was the most dangerous option, and the fastest.

The slow political route. The one he’d sneered at since he’d learned of it because he was impatient to end this.

His lips tightened in resistance as he wrestled with the urge to tell her. What if I’m wrong, though? What if the political route was the worst one he could take?

He could lean on the violent option as an alternative if it failed, but what would become of them then? She’d be more attached – he could be as well – and he’d be fucking stuck in this same conundrum again, but it’d be even more painful in the future.

Fuck. I hate this.

This constant wavering, this back and forth between his wants and desires, was crushing his ability to see clearly. Everything looked too murky.

If he only had himself to worry about, he had no qualms about running horns first into danger. He wasn’t afraid of death; he just stubbornly refused it.

Another much higher pitched and distressed whine ripped from her. She dug her claws into her thighs until he thought she might draw blood, and he was thankful he’d blunted them for her, otherwise she may have. Her trembling worsened with every second he said nothing.

More than ever, he longed to bring her into a comforting hold. He couldn’t; he needed the absence of her right now.

Yet her tears and whimpers were ripping into his chest, and the coldness in him was beginning to burn in ways he’d never experienced before, like frostbite eating away at him.

“There is a small group of Demons, maybe a hundred or so, who have taken over the ruins of an Elven village,” Jabez reluctantly stated, giving in to her, to himself, as his shoulders drooped in defeat. “It was the last foothold of resistance, other than Lezekos City, and it already had walls to protect them. It’s why they lasted so long.”

“Why are you talking about this? I don’t care about the history of the Elvish right now!” she shouted, shaking her head.

He winced and rested his elbow on his knee so he could palm his face.

“Because I’ve already spoken to the leader there. They are fully completed Demons who sought refuge and wanted to rebuild in the forest, away from those who would seek to eat them. They are peaceful people who no longer want to be in danger.” He ran his hand up his face and caressed a horn in frustration. “But their village would be a perfect place for me to initially set up my base because they are tame. I wouldn’t need to worry so much about them turning on me, and I can slowly recruit my army there. It’d be slow to spread word, as the Demons are untrusting of each other, but the potential to invade the city and find actual Elves to eat to further develop, rather than consuming each other, will be hard for many to resist.”

“What is the point in telling me all this if you don’t want me to join you?” she cried, lifting her face to shine orbs so dark the blue of them was threatening to turn black.

Now that she was no longer pressing against her knees, he saw just how fast her tears were trickling from her. They collided with each other to form big, hovering blobs, and took even longer than usual to fade.

“I’m trying to explain that there is another option,” he stated, resisting the urge to bellow or roar at her.

His heart was beating hard and fast, and he was trying his best to keep everything in so he could be calm . Yet inside, he was anything but fucking calm.

He was going against his better judgement and the right thing for her, simply because he didn’t want to leave this realm without her. And it wasn’t easy . He felt like he was doing the wrong thing, and the guilt of that was twisting into him like a damn knife.

He wanted her. He didn’t know why, and this was something he’d never faced before. He was treading new territory, when he’d always been an unmoving, unbending, unfeeling force.

“There is an option that is safer,” Jabez continued, averting his gaze from her because he just couldn’t look at her right then. “One in which you could come with me.”

“Really?” she asked, her voice thick from her sadness, yet her tone so full of hope it was bruising.

“I wouldn’t need to instil fear, but rather a collective ambition that aligns with my own. If my estimations are correct, I can recruit an army that would be a five-to-one ratio against the Elvish. I wouldn’t need to fight to enforce that rule, and my ability to teleport is unique – without me, this plan fails. I could make sure they understand that killing me would ensure failure, because if I alone get access into Lezekos, I can teleport to the mana stone that powers the dome that protects the city. Then I can destroy it, leaving the shield vulnerable.”

It would take a long time. Slowly building such an army would mean he would have to prove his prowess with his magic time and time again. He’d be placing himself in danger, but it was nothing like needing to spar with those who thought him weak.

Using his ability to teleport as leverage was the only way to ensure his safety. Kill him, then they’d be back to fighting with each other for completion. What he’d be offering was a real source of food, one which they hungered for deeply.

Unless they discovered his secret... then he’d be fucked.

“What I’m trying to say...” he continued, a defeated and harsh expire falling from him, “is that it would be safer for you, so long as you agreed not to interfere. You would have to promise that you’d stay out of the way and just observe. You would never fight, never protect me, and just have faith that I can do this on my own, even if someone attacks me. If I gain enough loyalty, I should have others who would be willing to ensure my safety in order to protect the grand plan.”

Jabez was usually a good judge of character. He’d figure out those who were loyal enough to act as bodyguards, just like he had here. Before it was destroyed, those in his castle, even some lesser Demons, had believed in him so much they were willing to die for him.

“But if you were hurt...” she rasped, and Jabez brought his face back to her just in time to watch her clasp her hands to her stomach.

“You would do nothing,” he stated firmly, holding her gaze so she would see the unwavering resolve in him. “I don’t want you to heal me and bear my wounds for me, leaving yourself in pain. I can do that myself. If you even try to fight for my sake, or heal me, I will bring you right back to Earth and leave you here.”

A whimper escaped her, and she looked down at her lap. “But I’m strong enough to–”

“Zylah,” he warned, his voice deep as he narrowed a glare at her. “That is the only way I’ll agree to this. The only reason I would want you to enter into any fight is to protect yourself, to ensure your own safety. Should it come to that, I’ll try to take over for your sake and you will retreat to the side and let me handle it. If you fall into a rage, I can teleport you to places where I can calm you down without anyone being in the way of your destruction.”

“Why don’t you want me to fight? I just don’t understand.” Then she softly added, “I want to... help you.”

“Because I care about you! Isn’t that obvious ?!” he shouted, running his hands through his hair before throwing them forward. “It’s why I’m still here. It’s why I haven’t left already. It’s why I don’t wish to see you in pain that would be entirely my fault! I won’t ask someone I care about to fight in my stead, to be a fucking tool for massacre while I stand back like a sadistic prick and watch.”

“But you’re asking me to watch you be hurt!” She yanked her arm to the side, gesturing at nothing but the forest. “You said you wanted Merikh to do this. He’s a Mavka, so why would it be any different?”

“Because he enjoys killing. He likes to rampage, he likes to fight, and he finds delight in destroying everything until he is the victor. He would threaten anything that looks at him funny to purposely taunt them into attacking him because he is a ruthless, hateful being who gets off on it and would laugh once he’s done ripping them apart.”

He also had protective quills covering him, meaning the potential of injury was much less likely. He’d also make fun of Jabez for needing assistance, rather than coddle him in worry.

Zylah flinched in understanding and dipped her head. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he said plainly. “You, on the other hand, don’t like to hurt, and would likely feel guilty over anyone you harmed. I can see you trying to peacefully avoid a fight and leaving yourself open to attack. He’s experienced in battle, whereas you’re not. He would revel in the fight with me, and then we would have spoken about it with glee around a damn campfire. You and he are not the same.”

Zylah chittered, a sign she didn’t know what to say. She continued to shake, continued to whimper quietly, but at least her tears had finally ebbed.

“It will take a long time,” he admitted, softening his tone. “And I can’t promise anything more than what we currently have until I’ve finally taken over the city.”

“But you said... but if you become a Phantom, that would mean you can’t die.”

I’m not willing to tie myself to someone when I’m uncertain of my future. He also wouldn’t do it just to ensure he was unkillable and could, over the course of forever, entertain this goal.

He was tired of his life as it currently was. If he couldn’t achieve his goal in his long lifespan, and it withered away into nothing but an unobtainable dream... then he doubted he’d ever be at peace. He’d give up, and a person who had completely lost their sense of self never lived the rest of their days well.

He’d likely grow depressed with nothing driving him forward. He could see himself checking out of reality, because he’d have nothing positive to reflect on. No happiness, no fond memories, nothing that would fuel him.

Tying himself to someone who would end up being a witness to his mental decay wasn’t a wound he wished to give. Especially as they’d always question why they were never enough to save him from himself. He wouldn’t trap someone without giving them the opportunity to have an out when he was so riddled with uncertainty.

That would be too cruel, even for him.

It was either this or nothing.

If he did achieve it, then he’d allow himself to bask in it. He could focus on other things while knowing everything he’d done had a reason.

He’d have his Eden, his peace, the life he’d always wanted. A home that was permanent, colourful, and filled with pleasantries in a magnificent city that was his to play in. The idea of sharing that with her... it warmed his chest and left him even more hopeful than he thought possible.

Especially as the Demons would welcome her, unlike the humans or Elves. She wouldn’t be an outcast – they were less likely to scorn someone just for the way they looked. She’d have a home where she was accepted, and after how she’d acted towards Fayren and those in Spiral Haven, he thought that might bring her joy.

She could become a librarian like the bookworm she was or a doctor like the healer she wanted to be, or something else entirely if she so chose it. She could feel like a real person, and not some bloodthirsty monster that was feared by all.

That was a future he’d like to present to her.

He’d like to witness it.

His goal had grown to be much bigger than himself, now involving her and her happiness. Who would she become when she had free rein to just simply be herself, with people to immerse herself in and teach her other interesting things?

She must have taken his silence as a rejection, because her shoulders dropped in defeat. “Okay,” she conceded, before subtly shifting her skull in his direction. “But this means I can come with you?”

“Yes,” he said, hating the way guilt nipped at him.

“Then I will do as you ask of me.”

He lifted his face to the sky, realising the sun had faded over the mountain and they were left in the shade. So, that’s it then. This was the path he was taking: the safer, political path... that allowed her to stay by his side.

Doubt and worry riddled beneath the surface, but it was something. He peeked at her, hoping he wasn’t making the wrong decision by agreeing to bring her – and just persisting with her in general.

Yet, as he looked upon Zylah, he had to fight the urge to fucking smile in triumph. He was getting both the things he currently wanted.

He reached towards her until he’d grasped the side of her waist furthest from him. Then he forcibly dragged her closer until she was between his thighs with her back to his chest. He curled his legs around her backside while wrapping his arms around her midsection to hold her.

Oh, the naughty things I’m going to do to this female, he thought with humour, scraping his fangs down her shoulder blade just so she would shiver.

I also can’t wait to show her Nyl’theria.

It was a beautiful realm in the daytime, and even more mesmerising at night. He could imagine her awe and curiosity as he showed it to her.

His eyes gleamed in delight. I bet she’ll be cute.

“I like you in this dress,” he offered, wanting to defuse the tension between them now that a decision had finally been made. He plonked his chin on her shoulder. “Red suits you.”

She let out an annoyed huff, but he noticed her orbs flicker with reddish pink in embarrassment in his periphery.

Zylah better be ready for him, because she’d just given him the opening to do whatever he wanted with her. And if that was to compliment her until she squirmed, and give her affection, then so be it.

A devious, quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest as he lightly bit the muscle of her shoulder in fondness.