A Soul to Embrace (Duskwalker Brides #8)

Chapter 32

The moment Jabez materialised within the underground section of a ruined library, he flung the feral Mavka off him.

Zylah slid along the ground, her body flailing across rubble and old tomes before crashing into a stone statue of some kind of bird. It broke apart under the impact of her hitting its base and knocking it over.

He cringed when she gave a terrible whine in response, but he’d done what he needed; he put space between him and the immediate danger she presented.

He had no ability to restrain her. The ground beneath was a thick layer of polished, cut stone, and there was no earth here for him to wield. Nothing grew here, and the area surrounding it was a mountain of rock and ore.

The only thing shedding light was a reflection that caught Otholla’s brightness from the surface and somehow directed it to the ceiling. Streaks of a material unknown created a checkered, glowing dome above that dimly lit up the area just enough for him to see. He imagined that light was nothing but ornamental in the past, and they would have used torches or mana stones to light the room up in other ways.

Zylah leapt to all fours and immediately bolted for him.

Sorry, bunny, but I’m not prey for you, he thought, as he teleported to relative safety.

He materialised to a support column holding up the ceiling and stood on the ledge that once had a statue situated on it. It’d long fallen, likely due to some kind of earthquake or perhaps the rumble of when the gods tried to help the world and failed miserably.

Zylah jumped and dug her claws into the side of the column to climb up to him. She slid down, unable to get any purchase with her back feet being from a creature that wasn’t adept at climbing. She tried continuously, snarling and snapping her maw, and he knew she wouldn’t settle until his thick blood scent was gone.

Staring down at her, he was surprised to find she’d managed to retain her satchel, although his was lost – likely when he’d been hung upside down.

Jabez winced as the agony in his back, face, and arm flared in the cool air. He covered the blinded side of his face and hissed. She gouged my fucking eye out.

His mouth had been torn open to his cheek, and the top of his nose was sliced open, rendering him incapable of smelling anything but coppery blood. The back of his head continued to throb, and he cursed the suns that the Demons had managed to hit him in the one fucking spot that drove him unconscious.

What are the chances? Low, but he thought the gods were just screwing with him at this point. It felt like they’d been doing that since the moment he was born.

He shook his head when he realised he was focusing on the wrong things. He peeked down at Zylah, who refused to give up despite her injuries. She limped constantly, only to steady her footing before each useless jump.

He was like a piece of meat dangling above a mindless, starving beast.

I need to heal. He needed blood and a body to steal from.

Jabez teleported back to the village to find they’d already begun feasting on their fallen comrades.

It gave Jabez the perfect opportunity to sneak up behind one who was close to completion and tear his claw-like nails across the front of their throat. They gave a choking uek , alerting the others, but he materialised to his spot above Zylah with the dying Demon in tow before they could do little more than turn to him.

Ignoring her frothing snarls, her roars and whimpers, and the way rocks rolled underneath her hands and paws, Jabez sat down on the ledge.

Noticing it was a male Demon, he didn’t care to take in any more of his lifeless features. He would have eaten Jabez given the opportunity, which elevated any guilt he felt over what he was about to do.

Jabez bit into the side of his neck and drained every last drop of blood he had to fuel his own strength. Then, being careful not to mess it up, he used his index nail to carve around his face so he could skin it. As disgusting as he found it, he placed the Demon’s face over his own and closed his remaining eye as he concentrated.

He had to hold back his scream of pain when the edges of his wounds burned as the mask of skin melted around his own and bonded. His toes curled as his muscles leapt in repulsion, but he resisted the urge to kick his legs. Agony radiated as he used another’s face to fix his own countenance seamlessly, and his hands shook to keep it pressed to him until it was done.

It would only take an hour or so for the wounds to truly settle and for such a topical injury to revert to his own skin colour perfectly.

Jabez then carefully dug his thumbnail around the man’s eye and stole that, too, so he could replace the one Zylah had taken from him. It burned, as doing this kind of transplant always did, and it wasn’t for the faint of heart nor those weak to suffering.

Heaving and needing a small break to breathe , Jabez rested back against the column while holding tightly to his victim. The eye he’d transplanted remained sightless, and likely would for a few hours, but he’d know if it had taken when he began to see cloudiness from it. If so, it would clear. If not, he would need to obtain another.

How many times in my life have I done this now? Countless. The number of times he’d needed to heal such wounds was far too many, and his swiftness in dealing with them proved just how normalised it was for him. None of this should be normal.

He shouldn’t have needed to live his life like this.

No one should.

But the world had been consistently unkind to him, and he’d found a way to fight back against the universe trying to snuff out his existence.

Once his shaking managed to calm, and he’d grown used to the new additions to himself, he bit into the man’s arm, took a chunk, and then spat it out into his palm. He placed it over his own bite wound and groaned as pain forked up his arm.

He only had one wound left, and to be honest, he wasn’t looking forward to it. He’d liked having Zylah’s claws marring his back from pleasure, but knowing these came from a violent battle left him only with throbs.

He turned the dead male Demon over, ripped open his tunic, and skinned his back. Once he was done, he carelessly kicked the corpse off the edge, and it landed against the ground with a wet splat.

Zylah dived for the corpse of the significantly evolved Demon and immediately began eating him. Jabez doubted he could have gotten Zylah to eat another person willingly, so at least something good had come from this. This will only add to her humanity, and it will make her stronger.

Listening to her eat her meat, Jabez removed his own shirt. He placed the Demon’s back skin over his open wounds while bent forward to ensure it fully laid over him, then concentrated on his healing mana.

Once more, the excess skin melted around his own, but he didn’t have the tools nor the means to take only what he needed. Then he focused on removing his blood from his direct vicinity by sizzling it until it dried and disappeared. He didn’t need to touch it, as it was his own essence, but there was little he could do with the smears of it on the ground behind Zylah. He wasn’t close enough.

With all his wounds tended to as best as he could, Jabez rested back against the column supporting the ceiling. He let a scent cloak roll off his flesh like an invisible cloud that would slowly fill up the area.

That should calm her down soon.

Tiredness squinted and drooped his eyelids, but the fracture in his skull was taking longer to heal than he would like, despite his ingestion of fresh blood. There was nothing else he could do to fix it except for a bone transplant, but filling or fixing broken bones was not an agony he thought he could handle right now.

He’d rather just let his healing magic slowly fix it, and likely leave him with another raised scar on the back of his head. He was fine with that, as his hair would hide it and he really didn’t care about something as vain as his appearance right now. Not that he’d truly cared about that in the first place.

Transplanting body parts was just a much faster way to heal.

With an enraged Mavka below him, Jabez lifted his face to the cracked stone ceiling. Shards of crystals reflecting the glowing dome glittered to create some kind of heavenly sky, but they were too broken and chipped to make out what the true image was. Everything here was covered in the grimy smears of time slowly rotting it all away.

Damnit. I came here too late.

Had he gone to the village sooner, he could have prevented the death of those who had been peacefully occupying it. He knew they hunted other Demons in a desperate bid to stave off starvation, but they did so sparingly. They’d been peaceful people who had tried to welcome Jabez – an unknown man – with open arms.

Those who had taken over... they were obviously a violent tribe who now used the knowledge of the village as a trap. A trap he’d fucking walked Zylah into.

I only visited four months ago. In that time, much had changed. He was annoyed he’d missed out on this opportunity.

Worse still, his secret was likely out. Word would spread, and Jabez and Zylah would be hunted until the Demons here got their claws in him. All that damn planning has gone to waste. He could still try to achieve his goal, but it would be far more dangerous than he’d been hoping for.

He’d constantly have to watch his own back, and he’d given away his weakness this day.

He covered his face in annoyance. The moment she was in danger, I acted like an idiot. But something sharp had been twisting his chest at her distress. Allowing her to be in pain or afraid while he calmly eased the situation just hadn’t been at the forefront of his mind.

His usual self would have...

He would have ignored her cries to get what he wanted. Lueka must have been a ruthless male to become a leader of such a barbaric group of Demons – cunning, too, since he likely set up the trap.

He would have been the perfect person to work with.

Had Jabez been given the opportunity to speak with Lueka, he would have explained why he was there. He would have done it while he was upside down and hanging from whatever they’d tied him to, his arms folded arrogantly, with a snide grin marring his face. Given that he’d seen himself in Lueka, he figured the large male would have jumped at the opportunity to get his claws in the Elysians. They probably would have made a formidable team, and Jabez could have used Lueka’s people to spread the word to other tribes and factions.

The perfect opportunity had been presented to him, and it could have quickened the pace in comparison to working with Szala, the elder leader from before.

Unlike those who had occupied the village beforehand, he needed youth, and he needed those who were instinctually violent. He needed people who were hungry to feed and would be ravenous for red Elven blood.

If it hadn’t been for Zylah...

Had he just been fucking alone, this night could have been the start of a rebellion against the Elven city. His goal could have been in his grasp, and he would have fed off the glee of it for ages. He would have had a small army already, and just needed to grow it.

I fucked up. His fucking feelings had gotten in the way! This is why I don’t care for anybody. This was why he kept everyone at arm’s length, refusing to allow anyone to seep beneath his skin and ruin him.

Had it been anyone else, no matter who they were – Fayren, Katerina, fucking Goldie – he would have carelessly thrown them to the Demons as a sacrifice to get what he wanted. What was one more death of a companion if it meant success?

How could I let this happen? Why?

She was supposed to be able to take care of herself, so why the fuck had she needed saving?! She was more formidable than him!

He’d brought Zylah because he hadn’t foreseen this happening, and he’d let his heart and dick get in the way of everything. This had never happened to him before, not this blatantly, and that knowledge was hard to swallow.

And yet, if he had to do it over again, Jabez knew... he knew, with every fibre of his being... he’d still choose Zylah in that moment. Even if he knew the outcome, her pain had just been too great against the will of his selfishness.

Somehow, she had become something greater to him. She’d burrowed into his chest, and he didn’t know how to stomach that either.

As much as he resented this outcome, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. It wasn’t her fault, and the decision had rested squarely on his shoulders. It’d been risky to begin with – he just hadn’t expected this turn of events. Then again, anything involving Zylah was unpredictable.

So what now?

I’ll have to face the Demons once more. This time with the knowledge that they likely knew his damning secret. He could bear that.

What he didn’t know if he could bear... I will have to take her back to Earth. He’d have to leave her behind if he wanted to move forward with this.

She was a liability.

She had become a glaring vulnerability for him.

He’d be incapable of thinking clearly should she be in such danger again. His enemies could try to use her as a way to control him.

When Lueka had told them to break her skull, without even knowing that was the one way to destroy her, something cold had spread outwards from his sternum. Although he hadn’t registered it then, it had been intense fear, all for her sake.

He hadn’t felt fear like that since he was a young adult fighting for his life. It reminded him of the day the humans had cut off his ear and had been moments from bleeding him dry just for the possibility he held magic in his blood.

Irrational terror. The kind of horror that could warp one’s thoughts.

Just as it had this night.

I can’t... choose her. He didn’t know how to do that. He didn’t know how to get what he wanted and keep her. I can’t watch her be in pain because of me.

Just witnessing it once was enough to make his eyes crinkle and bow with anguish. He’d fucking grown a heart when he’d never wanted one!

But the idea of letting her go left him feeling hollow inside for some stupid reason. The emptiness in his chest that he’d been carrying his whole damn life ached at the prospect, and it was worse than when he’d killed his heart as a child.

When he’d been rotting away in his prison cell, he’d painfully gouged out the soft, calm, and submissive child he’d been. The boy who wanted to be nothing but a scholar in the hopes that gaining knowledge and becoming a valued part of society would make them see him differently. Would stop them from looking at him like he was an eyesore , something to disdain and fear .

But it’d never mattered.

I should have walked away weeks ago. Before it was too late. Before she could sink her pretty, glossy claws into him.

Jabez smacked the back of his head against the column in outrage, only to groan at the way he hurt himself like a moron. He cupped the back of his head, feeling his own drying blood caking his long hair as his knees knocked inwards from the pain.

Idiot. He wasn’t used to calling himself one.

But his feelings were, truly, making him stupid. And like a festering, infected wound, he should cut them away before they could kill him. That would be the wisest choice.

So why couldn’t he seem to do it?

Like before on Earth, where he’d been going back and forth, weighing all his options in their shared cave, he had no idea how to move forward without losing her.

I don’t know what to do, he thought, his chest swelling with pain he didn’t understand. Whatever affection he had for her was paralysing him, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

With his thoughts wildly spiralling into a pit of despair, he didn’t know how long he waited for Zylah to settle. When her growls receded and were replaced with whimpers, he peeked over the edge of his seat so he could look down at her.

Limping and refusing to settle her right foot on the ground, she stumbled. Her arms caved in, and she fell to the side and released a horrible yelp when she landed on her wounds, the broken bits of rock on the ground likely inflicting more pain.

Jabez’s stomach gave a horrible twist, and he teleported to her. Crouching beside her, he gently brushed his fingers into the fur around her neck.

“Jabez,” she whimpered, weakly reaching an arm out to wrap around his hips and tug him closer.

He sat and let her curl herself around his body. He helped her to lift her head onto his crossed legs, and she whimpered as she used the last of her strength to get her knees behind his backside. She trembled, her entire body shaking and refusing to settle even with him there.

“It hurts.”

“I know it does,” he stated softly, stroking her neck where it was uninjured in an attempt to soothe her.

Now that she’d laid her front on top of him a little more, he inspected the multiple puncture wounds between her shoulder blades. There were at least a dozen of them, each of them still bleeding; her constant moving had likely reopened them.

Her right leg had been bitten into multiple times, clearly from someone trying to eat her on the sly while covering it up as their attempt to stop her from fighting back. There were gashes all over her back, sides, and thighs from them grabbing her and pulling her back so she couldn’t escape. The front of her throat didn’t appear to be fairing any better, as if they’d attempted to slit it open to stop her from moving.

All their attempts had done nothing to stop her, and only ensured she’d suffered and continued to do so.

He hated the way her body shuddered deeply on each breath that ended in a curt whine, and that her legs kicked in aversion to it every time. He hated that she held him so loosely, as if she didn’t have the strength to cling to him like usual.

He despised that the female who had stolen a piece of him as she giggled through whispering wisps now lay covered in her own blood, which oozed to puddle beneath her.

Fuck. It’s all my fault, he thought, covering his face as shame prickled the back of his neck.

“I’m so sorry, Zylah,” he rasped out, hoping she could hear the utter sincerity in his voice.

“Are you... hurt?” she whispered, reaching up to touch the back of his knuckles.

“Don’t you dare,” he warned, lowering his palm just enough so she could feel the weight of his harsh glare. “My wounds are healing.”

She gave the most pathetic chitter, her white orbs flickering with reddish pink at being caught. Thankfully she didn’t try to take his wounds, and he lowered his hand so he could gently stroke his fingertips over her snout.

“Just sleep, Zylah.” Her orbs were dim, threatening to turn black, and he knew she must be exhausted. “We’re safe now, and I’ll watch over you.”

As if all she needed was to feel secure and be in his arms, her head went limp and her orbs darkened into black. Her form began to shift into her more humanoid version, and her red dress lifted to the surface to immediately be soaked in purple pungent blood.

He removed her bag so it wouldn’t press on any of her wounds and hurt her further.

It took a long while for her bleeding to finally stop, but the hissing of her strained and shallow breaths never ceased. They only grew softer in sleep, and he wished he had the ability to induce a coma until a day had passed and she healed on her own.

In essence, he could do that by removing her skull from her body and letting it reset within a day, but the idea of doing so sickened him. Although it would spare her from this pain, he completely lacked the desire to be callous or cruel towards her with his own claws.

Watching over her as he stroked her with trembling hands only made him feel worse with every damn slow minute that passed.

He bent forward until his forehead rested against her bony brow. Fuck. My damn chest hurts so much. It kept tugging, kept twisting, and he knew it wouldn’t stop for a long time – long after she healed.

The guilt of this was killing him, and he held her as he let his eyes wander to the right to look at where they were.

This hidden, ruined library had given him many spells. The knowledge here withered away with every year and turned to dust. Much of it had already been eaten away by time or crumbled in his very hands at just the merest disturbance.

To his left was a door that had the image of a three bronze suns on it. It was slightly ajar from when he first discovered this place. Going through the secret passageway led to the main part of the library that had been decimated by Demons, and many of the books were gone. He imagined the scholars had likely fled with countless books in their arms, trying to preserve as much knowledge as they could.

What if I can find a healing spell? He let his gaze drift to the tomes and other reading material that had lasted through the test of time. Stone shelves were filled with rotting pages, but there had to be something he could do to aid Zylah.

He knew it was unneeded, as she would heal within a day, but if he could just do something as minor as take away the worst of her pain, then he wanted to. He wanted to help this female any way he could, to try to make up for all his fault in this.

As much as he didn’t wish to cease comforting Zylah, Jabez gingerly moved her skull from his lap. He teleported to the platform above and grabbed his shirt, folding it as he materialised back to her. He knelt beside her head and cushioned it while letting her have his scent if she needed it.

Then he turned to what remained of the library and began his search.