A Soul to Embrace (Duskwalker Brides #8)

Chapter 33

Damnit! Jabez’s mind roared, and the urge to throw the rotten book he held across the room was nigh overwhelming. There’s nothing here!

Nothing left he could use.

This part of the library, this hidden away section, held collections of past histories that mattered naught. They held pointless secrets, taboo spells, and ancient words not even he could read. There was nothing here on healing, and the only thing he’d managed to learn was how to put her to sleep and wake her up once he did.

A plethora of books were scattered across the ground while empty, dust-covered shelves surrounded him. Jabez had flicked through everything that didn’t crumble apart under his touch, and not a single scroll or page was useful for what he needed right now.

After he’d fully healed until not even a scar marred his face, back, or arm, he’d gone outside of this secret room and to the library above. Searching that area was impossible. There was a tribe of winged Demons who had made the sheltered library their home. He wouldn’t have been able to fight them off while searching for the scraps of books that remained, no matter how hard he tried.

They’d been quick to instigate a fight, many of them hungry, many of them having children they wished to feed. They’d had no interest in speaking with him; he was an outsider, a wingless one at that.

They saw him as an easy target, without knowing just how wrong they were about that.

It meant he couldn’t search that level, although it was likely most of the knowledge up there had been destroyed by weather, time, and Demons ruffling through its decaying mess.

He carelessly dropped the last book he had access to, hearing it thump against the ground as he covered his face with both hands. I’m going fucking insane. He’d been searching for hours, hope sparking when he thought he may have found something to help heal her, only for it to wither away when he made it to the last page.

His eyes landed on Zylah, who lay peacefully asleep under the spell he placed over her. Her whines had ceased, her mind too far receded to register anything. He could have screamed, or the world could have been struck with an earthquake, and neither would have woken her.

A growl bubbled from him as his hands clenched into tight fists. Why isn’t she healing?!

When it’d felt like time had just been moving far, far too slowly, he’d teleported to the peak of this mountain. Otholla, although still bright, had moved from the northern horizon to the south.

Although Nyl’theria had quadruple the number of days and they were each three to four times longer than those of Earth, he could feel the stretch of time. If his estimations were correct, and the many hours he’d spent mindlessly reading garbage indicated anything, an Earth day had surely passed. No, he was absolutely certain of it.

So, why did this female continue to lie there, wounded?

Giving up on his useless search, he walked over to Zylah and sat next to her. He hoisted her torso onto his lap, and the tremors in his hands were worse than they’d ever been as he patted an uninjured section of her side.

“Why aren’t you healing, Zylah?” he asked her limp body, hating that he’d forced her silence just to spare her pain.

The sickly twists in his gut had transformed into pure anxiety. Every beat of his heart felt like it was pushing barbed venom into his veins, while sand seemed to clog up his lungs.

“Fuck. Just heal for me,” he whispered, burying the side of his face against her neck.

He took in her jasmine-and-violet scent, despising that it was saturated in the metallic tang of blood. He shivered against the coolness in her body that shouldn’t be present.

She should be warm and full of life. She should be chittering and giggling, with her orbs flaring reddish pink in embarrassment at his damn teasing. Her tail should wiggle in joy that they were in a library, constantly drawing his eye to it until his face heated in want, rather than her lying limp like this.

The cute bookworm would have loved this fucking place, and instead she was too injured to enjoy it.

Is it Nyl’theria? Did bringing her here stop her natural abilities? Did the Demons discover some kind of poison that stops someone from regenerating?

No, that answer seemed too unlikely.

Shit. What do I do?

He nuzzled her soft fur with his nose and lips before sliding his head forward until he was able to glare at nothing. Tiredness made his vision blur and his mind was grainy, but he tried to think of a solution. If he couldn’t heal her, then who the hell could?

He groaned as he buried his face against her once more, wishing the answer would come to him as the hook of regret sunk deeper into his heart.

Had I just thought to learn healing magic that benefited others, I could have done this myself. Years of self-centredness were currently coming around to bite him in the arse with sharp, mean fangs.

Those fucking Elysians have healing magic that can aid her. He sneered in disgust, doubting it would matter that she was different to them. Their spells would likely work alongside her natural regenerative abilities.

His damn stepfather had been a doctor; he bet that fucker would have been able to do it. Hell, his mother would have just loved to poke and prod this female like a scientific experiment until she made Zylah better.

He thought this, his disgust and disdain stronger than ever, and yet... the hook in his chest let up a bit as he thought of them. Of his parents, the people who abandoned him, the damn hospital he’d sat in for much of his childhood.

“Don’t,” he pleaded to Zylah, clenching his eyes shut as his grip on her tightened. “Please. Don’t make me do it.”

His body quaked as he resisted his thoughts, his heart pounding in quick succession. His mind refused to find a different solution when there was one present before him – because he doubted any other could trump it.

He grasped onto a more pathetic route instead. Maybe if I take her back through the portal, she’ll heal, he thought, standing as he lifted her into a safe cradle in his arms.

His arms shook at the dense weight of her, his body tired after not sleeping for so long and wasting so much mana.

He teleported back to the specific portal that would take him back to Austrális, rather than one of the many others that would have taken him to other Earth countries, and immediately walked through it. What he’d been hoping for didn’t happen. Zylah didn’t regenerate, not even when the sunlight touched her. The dawn of a new day proved he’d been right – a full Earth day had passed.

Jabez let out a hiss through his fangs, having forgotten to ward his body against the sun. His skin tingled like it was moments from burning, and he reactivated the spell to protect himself.

For a few minutes, he waited as he stared down at her.

“Heal, Zylah,” he pleaded, his brows narrowing at her limp form when she didn’t.

He really had been hoping that bringing her back would instigate it, but he was left with only crumbling defeat. Why did he always fail? Why did this feel like the worst failure yet?

His lips pulled back and he stared at her, baring his fangs as a growl bubbled up his throat. Hostility and hate squinted his eyes into a glare, and the strength of it was near crushing for his soul.

Fuck! Fine! You win! He couldn’t take this anymore, and the uncertainty of her future was killing him.

Clutching Zylah protectively, he stepped backwards through the portal and knelt down once they were shrouded in the darkness of Nyl’theria. He placed his hand against the side of her temple, and a new ring marking – with a dash above and below it – on the first knuckle of his middle finger glowed white.

She flinched, then her body curled inwards as she let out a sharp whine. The sound of it gouged at his chest worse than ever.

“Zylah,” he called, propping her up so she would sit.

She answered him with a weak moan before her orbs opened to a pale blue. They highlighted her pain and sadness.

“Where are we?” She shifted slightly and turned her head. Then a loud, distinct whimper burst from her when she noticed the portal. “No! Please! I don’t want to go back without you.”

Despite her injuries and how much they had to hurt, she frantically gripped onto his biceps, clinging to him until the sharp points of her claws latched deep. He winced but gave no other reaction.

“Hey, it’s fine,” he reassured, wishing his stomach didn’t twist unbearably further. “We’re not going through the portal. I already did to check something.”

“Promise?” she croaked, refusing to let him go as the bottoms of her orbs wavered.

The fact she could be made to cry so easily didn’t bode well for Jabez. He usually laughed in people’s tearful faces, finding the manipulation of them sickening, but he found Zylah’s glowing, ethereal, floating droplets difficult to stomach for entirely selfless reasons.

He didn’t like being the cause of them.

“Promise,” he answered thickly, because he didn’t think she’d like what he planned to do either. While crouching, he stepped back a little to give her room. “Can you stand on your own?”

The moment she even tried to get her feet under her to stand, she yelped. He settled her back down to the ground and hooked his arms under her legs and around her back. He lifted her off the ground once more and took her heavy weight.

“Don’t worry. I’ll just carry you.”

A light gust of balmy wind wrapped around him, yet it didn’t feel nice – not with how he was feeling right then. More than anything, he wished for an escape from what he was about to do, but he didn’t know of any other way besides Lindiwe.

And he refused to go to someone like her for help, no matter that she was likely the best choice. She’s probably healed her other children. But if I take Zylah back to Earth... He’d have to leave her there permanently.

And Earth wasn’t any safer than Nyl’theria. It was just as full of Demons, and even horrible humans who would hunt Zylah because of what she was, rather than giving her a chance.

I just want to put her somewhere untouchable. A place where this sweet female would never be in pain again, with or without him.

When she was secure in his hold, and she’d wrapped her arms around his neck for support, Jabez took in her pretty white rabbit skull. His gaze flicked up to her dainty antlers and how they each had only one small fork three quarters of the way up. But he shied away from the way he could feel her gaze on him, and how hollow it made him feel inside.

Just as he was about to teleport to the biggest blight in his mind, Zylah gingerly touched the side of his jaw.

“Why does your expression look like that?” The blue in her orbs deepened and swallowed up some of the white.

He knew what she meant. She wanted to know why his features had gone cold and indifferent, his mask firmly in place in order to spearhead himself through his next tasks.

Quietly, and without looking down at her in his arms, his gaze instead fixed on the invisible road before him, he answered, “I’m taking you to the Elven city.”

She jerked in his arms. “What, why?”

“Because you’re not healing, Zylah, and I don’t know why. I took you back to Earth and nothing happened.” Trying to be steadfast in this, he refused to meet her orbs. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t see any other way.”

She chittered nervously, lowering her hand to rest against her chest. “But you hate the Elves.”

His head lowered as his ears drooped. “I know.”

But right now... my worry for you is stronger than my hatred.

He knew he could wait on Earth and see if she healed the next day, but that was just another day of pain. What if it didn’t work anyway? What if this ended up becoming her permanent state the longer he waited?

He hated unknowns and unpredictability for this reason. He wanted to fix her injured state, and he wanted it now.

Without speaking another word, his hands tightened on her. Jabez teleported them to one of the two gates belonging to Lezekos City.

Cream stone walls ran around the city, acting as a blockade against sound and sight for the peace of mind of those just on the other side. It was also the final defence if the translucent bubble dome with a rainbow shimmer popped.

All his life, he’d seen these walls as nothing more than a taunt, a barricade to what he wanted most in this world. Now, they just appeared daunting, and he worried they would be a barrier to the safety and nurturing that could be provided within.

How many times have I looked at this gate? Jabez thought with pain as he stared at the tree of resilience’s knotted design.

The bleached-white tree was a symbol of hope for the Elysians. It stood taller than any other tree in this realm and towered over the entire city. With its pink-and-purple leaves, its branches reached out for kilometres, blanketing the city in shade to protect those below it from the heat and radiation of the three suns throughout the day.

Otholla could just be seen cresting over the forest far to the right, but it would’ve been beautiful had it been directly behind the tree. It would have made the leaves glow brighter than they already did, and would have stopped it from looking like a shadowy creature ominously reaching for all and blocking the night sky.

The people here had literally taken a piece of its bark for the gate’s double doors and dribbled gold, silver, and bronze into carved grooves to make a glistening tree design with its roots encompassing a seed. The Nyl’kira written around the top border of the door stated, “The tree of resilience will shelter all.”

The first time he’d read those words, he’d laughed and thought it was bold of them to assume they’d rely on such petty, hypocritical words. Now, with Zylah in his arms... he for once hoped them to be true.

A sense of doubt trickled down his spine. What if they don’t let me into the city? He needed to explain who and what she was, her strengths, and where her weaknesses lay without revealing how to destroy her – not that these people would even dare harm a living creature.

The last time he’d been inside, he’d instigated bloodshed and fear. He’d murdered anyone who’d gotten in his way, blinded by hunger and the potential to feed properly for the first time in his life. Since then, he’d sworn vengeance and death to these people, and he’d told them.

He still wanted that.

Yet Jabez stepped closer than he’d ever dared to before.

“Do you mind knocking for me?” he asked with a strained voice, having to fight the clog of emotion behind the ball in his throat. “My hands are currently full.”

Zylah’s shoulders turned inwards, and she tipped her skull to him slightly. “You don’t have to do this. I’m fine. I’m sure I will heal eventually.”

I’m not willing to take that chance. It’d already been too long, and... This city is the safest place I can take her to in any realm.

Here, she’d never have to worry about Demons hunting or attacking her again. She wouldn’t have to watch her back in case human Demonslayers were hiding in the snow or brush.

Zylah would be safe and sheltered behind an impenetrable fortress not even he could infiltrate without trickery.

I know they’ve been accepting Demons into their fold. He was sure they’d figured out that they required meat and began compensating for it. He knew they’d been trying to rectify the mistakes of their past by doing the right thing in the present. Surely... they’d accept a Mavka seeking refuge.

So long as they covered her snout with a material soaked in a scent-cloaking spell, Zylah would be harmless. All they’d need to worry about was her anger, which was almost non-existent.

She was sweet and perfect, and she deserved to be in a place where she could be protected.

“Knock, Zylah,” Jabez urged, bringing her a bit closer.

She tentatively raised her hand and tapped her knuckles against the door. No matter that she’d done so lightly, a small rainbow bubble formed around them as a protective dome. The main barrier never disappeared, refusing to allow them inside just yet.

The short hairs on the nape of his neck and forearms lifted in aversion, and regret simmered beneath the surface of his skin. He felt trapped within their Elven magic, when he’d spent his whole life fleeing from how that had made him feel as a child.

Within seconds, the rich metal ores on the gate sprung to life. Unknotting their interlocking patterns, they receded like water being sucked backwards through the grooves, and flooded the mechanism that allowed the gate to open on its own. Then the double doors creaked and groaned as they swung inwards.

Two soldiers stood on the other side of the threshold, waiting for the doors to open fully. They both held Elvish rankae glaives that looked like cutlass blades attached to their metal poles. At the base of each blade was a ribbon that highlighted their ranking within the army. Considering they were stationed here at night, it was no wonder both of theirs were red, revealing them to be high-ranking individuals.

Swirling, knotted patterns had been etched into the seams of their armour. Although they were similar, each groove told a story of who they were, what family they came from, and any remarkable achievements they’d carried out.

Although their white armour shone like metal, it was actually made of silk that came from the very leaves of the tree in the middle of the city. They didn’t need to pluck them, as the leaves fell naturally, and the Elysians were watchful to make sure they didn’t land upon anyone. The silk itself was stronger than any ore that could be mined.

It allowed them flexibility, while remaining durable and strong.

The only visible parts of the soldiers were their faces and the undersides of their hands. Like all Elysians, their skin was one of the various shades of brown, but he did note that the one on the right had red eyes, as if he were a Demon. It was hard to tell with their winged helmets on.

Jabez stared at them, and they him. When it went on for too long, especially when they shared an uncertain crinkle of their brows, his eyes narrowed.

“Well?” he asked in Nyl’kira. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to do something?”

“You have brought a Duskwalker, Demon,” the Elven one on the left stated.

Jabez’s head reared back. Firstly, because he’d called him a Demon as if he didn’t know who he was, and secondly... How do they know what she is?

“If you don’t mind, you will need to stay there while we speak with the head of security. He will likely come and investigate this himself.”

“Since you know Nyl’kira, we won’t have to obtain a translator to speak on your behalf,” the Demon soldier stated.

Jabez opened his mouth to grill them with questions, but he wisely shut it. Just get her through the gate. It was a relief that his actual face was entirely unknown, as he hadn’t thought to glamour himself.

“Sure. We’ll wait here,” Jabez bit through clenched fangs. “But I urge you to be quick. She’s injured and I seek to take her for healing.”

“The Duskwalker is hurt?” the Demon asked, before stepping back with a nod. “Understood. We’ll ensure this is dealt with in a timely matter.”

They both left, sprinting as they did, and he appreciated they didn’t intend to dawdle like a pair of fuckwits.

“Do you mind if I put you down?” Jabez asked in English. He lowered to his knees, refusing to let her rest any weight on her injured leg. “We have to wait here while they speak to the head of security.”

As much as he would have liked to hold her, she was heavy, and resting his arms and legs for a short while would do him some good. There was no point in wasting energy when he didn’t need to.

Zylah nodded and released her arms from around his neck. He carefully settled her on the ground and sat next to her so he wasn’t hovering over her.

He looked past the open gate and down the long, tall, and wide hallway through the stone walls that led deeper within the city. Just beyond it lay houses or establishments, none fearing their proximity to the walls that had protected them for so long.

Other than when he’d left this city, he’d never been to the outskirts of it. He didn’t know if much had changed. He didn’t care to inspect it, so he brought his stare back to Zylah, who was trying to stifle her soft sounds of discomfort.

“Are you okay?” He checked on the wound on her leg to see it hadn’t changed at all since she obtained it.

She lifted her snout towards the opening. “This place smells nice.”

He allowed her to redirect the conversion. “It does.”

It smelt like... home . Like the forest, like flowers and herbs. The aroma of vegetarian food cooking flittered to them and made the wind smell lively and inviting, as did the scent of the pollen that came from the central tree.

A crack of loneliness struck his chest, and he turned his back on the city to face her fully. Right now, he just needed her gaze to keep him focused while he let his mind wander.

How do they know what she is? As far as he was aware, no Elysians had crossed over to Earth, let alone Austrális. Is there a Mavka I don’t know of here?

If so, that would be beneficial for her case. If they allowed one here, then surely they’d allow another. Despondent hope pulled at the edges of his mind.

This is a good thing. She’ll have another of her kind to lean on. They even had translators, meaning someone could teach her Nyl’kira or speak on her behalf as she adjusted to the city and its way of life.

So why do I feel so hollow about this decision?

“Jabez...” Zylah called, reaching up to cup the side of his face. “Why do you look so... sad?”

Because I plan to leave you here.

With the intention of coming back when he was ready to destroy these walls. Then he could obtain her once more, unless she fell in love with these people, and then she’d only hate him for it.

Shit. What kind of decision is that? It felt like the wrong one entirely, but the only other option was for them to leave together, or for him to... stay.

He didn’t want to stay. He didn’t want to live among these people. He didn’t want to face those who had turned their backs on him just for being born, and then drove him to madness within the lonely darkness of an underground prison.

“I’m just tired,” he lied, unsure of how to broach this subject with her while she was still hurt. He didn’t want her trying to scamper away in rejection of his leaving before she was healed. “I haven’t slept since we left Earth.”

“You never rest,” she grumbled, sheathing a claw to poke him in the cheek.

He gave a small, half-hearted chuckle. “Are you seriously pouting right now?”

She darted her skull away. “No.”

His chuckle brightened at that. Cute, my fluffy bunny. Cute.

They sat in silence facing each other, and Jabez lifted her left hand with his right, and let their fingers touch. His thumb played with the side of one of her glossy black claws as he simmered in the bubbles of pain and sorrow surrounding his essence.

Thankfully the wait wasn’t agonisingly long.

Feet shuffled behind him, and his ears twitched at their calm approach. He scooped Zylah into his arms and stood to greet them.

The moment he saw the face of the Elysian man approaching, Jabez’s head tipped to the side and a low groan exploded from him. Fuck me. You’re joking. This idiot is the one who became the head of security?

Great! Fantastic! Jabez was screwed.

At Mericato’s narrowing glare, Jabez’s ears shot back in hatred as he returned it. He’d never forget that name, nor this man’s face, even though the last time he’d seen it, they’d both been eleven and now it sported a short beard.

Dressed in the formal attire of a councilmember, Mericato wore a blue tunic that had the tree of resilience stitched into it with silver thread. A pair of light-grey pants flowed around his legs and danced above the soleless shoes covering the tops of his feet. His companion wore a similar outfit, although his tunic was green, and he was much thinner than Mericato’s muscular frame.

They stopped barely a few feet from the dome’s edge.

Then, to Jabez’s surprise, Mericato began to sign with his hands, silently speaking to the person in green. Jabez realised then that he was a translator. After a small exchange, his translator’s eyes widened in disbelief and his shoulders stiffened midway through as he read his gestures.

“You have quite the nerve to come here after all this time, Jabeziryth Kneis,” the translator stated, keeping his tone smooth to hide his shock.

The revulsion that struck Jabez’s gut at hearing his full name made drool collect in his mouth in preparation to vomit. Worse still, this bastard had tacked on his mother’s maiden name to drive the knife deeper, likely knowing Jabez hated it.

The two guards from earlier parted their lips at his name on a silent gasp and shuffled nervously behind them.

“If we could skip the hostility, I believe all are given a chance at rebirth when they enter the city,” Jabez stated with a flippant tone of arrogance. “All past crimes and transgressions against the Elysian people are voided, and a new life is offered.”

A muscle in Mericato’s jaw ticked, and Jabez had to hold back a smirk. I bet your customs haven’t changed . It’s what they offered to Demons when he’d been a child, and he was more than happy to use it against them. Mericato ran his fingers through his brow-length white hair, before darting his eyes to the side to think.

Once more, he began to sign.

“That is only upon first entry. This, technically, would be a re-entry.”

“Listen, you–” Jabez’s word cut off when he’d been about to spew a tangent of insults. He willed himself to remain calm, his arms tightening around the most important thing to him at the moment, then he let out a pacifying sigh. “Look. The Duskwalker is injured. She seeks refuge. She has never harmed a single Elysian her entire life. Surely that counts for something. Let her be healed and offer her sanctuary.”

Mericato’s brows furrowed. “You want us to take only her?”

Jabez’s lips flattened before he released them. “Yes. I have no intention of remaining.”

“We can’t do that. We can’t allow her into our city.”

His jaw fell, just as fury heated the back of his neck. “What the fuck do you mean you can’t take her? Isn’t that the point of the script on the fucking door? If someone seeks sanctuary, you will give them a chance to speak to the council and be properly evaluated!”

Mericato tsked with his features twisting into a cringe. He went to gesture with his hands, but Jabez wasn’t done.

“Are you seriously going to turn away an injured female in need? I understand not letting me through these gates, but she’s done nothing to warrant such disrespect or hatred.”

“It has nothing to do with what she is. I can allow you entry, but not her.”

Jabez stepped back when his right knee almost caved in at the revelation he was hit with. “You would take me, but not her ?”

That didn’t make any sense! Not when Jabez had threatened their destruction! It was the last thing he’d ever said to them, and he had no doubt that if Mericato knew about Mavka, then they must know what he’d been up to all these years. That he’d tried to build an army to decimate this entire shitty city.

“I’m sorry,” the translator said on his behalf, and his tone was remarkably sincere. “But we are already aware of the dangers of an unbonded Duskwalker. She will be too volatile. There are too many people here that have a fear scent or may accidentally bleed. We can’t allow such a risk for a creature that is able to easily destroy dozens of people in the span of minutes. Not even our soldiers are able to properly defend against a Duskwalker, and we know trying to will only enrage her more. We also don’t wish to harm her for something she can’t control.”

Taken aback, Jabez was rendered silent.

They don’t just know about the existence of Mavka, but they deeply understand them.

“Who is it?” Jabez asked. “What Duskwalker resides here? Who gave you such information?”

Mericato shared a distrustful look with his translator. “Who they are is irrelevant. We won’t give you the name of one of our people in order to preserve their privacy.”

The bitter, spiteful laugh that exploded from Jabez was nasty. His eyes crinkled in hateful fury as his voice darkened when he growled, “I should rip your fucking throat out again.”

Mericato’s pointed ears drooped, and he looked away with a pained expression as he covered the scar across his neck. There was a hint of regret in his eyes, but Jabez cared little for it. He didn’t care if Mericato wore that scar as a badge for what he’d done to Jabez, or as penance for how he’d treated him and how he’d been part of his demise.

He deserved it.

“So, you’re telling me you won’t let this Duskwalker into your stupid city because she’s unbonded?”

“Yes.”

By the cursed light! Damnit...

Jabez swiped his foot against the ground, and warmth swelled through the sole of it and up his ankle. As the hexagon symbols over the arches of his feet connected to swirling patterns around his ankles and glowed green with mana, a blockade of grass formed around him and Zylah. A shield from sight and sound filled the entire Elven bubble dome surrounding them.

Then he knelt while placing Zylah down in front of him and rested his hands on the ground. All of a sudden, it felt like his lungs were being strangled from the inside, like someone had filled them with water, and he struggled to breathe. He was fucking drowning , and he had no means to reach the surface for air.

He huffed above her, trying to come to grips with a decision he had to make.

It choked him so tightly, he feared his throat was moments from closing, while his heart raced from the deep anxiety that clutched him. He released a scent cloak to stop Zylah from turning on him, just as Mericato stated she would if left with her insatiable and uncontrollable hunger.

“Jabez? What’s going on?” Zylah asked, and he lifted his widened gaze to her.

It’s either my goal or her, he thought, letting his eyes flick over her rabbit skull, her white orbs of worry, her dainty antlers. It’s either me or her. His gaze dropped to her blood-stained dress, and how it did little to hide the deep, flaring punctures and gashes between her breasts and arms, and had ridden up to reveal those on her thighs. Her mangled right calf had been visible the entire time.

Her safety... or my vengeance.

His feelings of tenderness he’d only known for a few short weeks, or the weight of his hatred he’d been holding up for years.

At his silence, she chittered and fidgeted by clamping her hands on her lap. “Are they not letting us inside?”

He shook his head, unable to respond.

“Then we can go back to Earth.”

To Earth. To the place he didn’t want to return to ever again. He was done with that realm, and he didn’t think he could bear to face it ever again without good reason – and he couldn’t think of a single one. He’d hated every minute of being there since he arrived, and it never felt right.

He’d never be happy there. He’d done too much to it, he’d been too violent and cruel to want to live in the mess of his failures. He just couldn’t do it.

I don’t want to leave her there either. Unprotected, with swarms of lesser Demons that hunted everything indiscriminately, with Demonslayers, and even with her own kind, should they grow enraged at each other. He knew she could protect herself, but should she have to? She didn’t want to harm anything, didn’t want to fight.

She’d just be hurt again and again. Demons and humans alike would try everything in their might to destroy her. Every creature there was vile in some form.

He once thought he could stomach taking her back there, but the more he lingered on it, the less he wanted to. He’d brought her to this wretched city’s gates because he wanted her somewhere safe, even if it was without his predatory gaze protectively watching her back. A place where she could flourish without fear or worry.

There was nowhere else he could take her to guarantee that peacefulness.

Yet they wouldn’t let her in.

Fuck. Why does my chest hurt so much?! He wished it would stop! It felt like it was on fire, like his damn heart was trying to incinerate him from the inside out.

With his arms shaking, his nails gouged into the dirt around her injured leg. He bowed his head.

“You...” The muscles in his jaw knotted when he clenched his fangs. “You said you wanted to bond with me. Is that still true?”

Her head reared back in surprise, and she squeezed her hands together as her orbs turned reddish pink. “Of course.”

He waited for a sense of foreboding or complete aversion to crest over him. For something, anything, to stop what he was about to offer. Nothing happened, and somewhere inside him said this was the right choice.

But he wouldn’t do this without being truthful.

“They won’t let you into the city unless you are bonded,” he informed her. “But... I’m choosing to do this because I want to. I want you to understand that.”

If he didn’t want to, if there was even a speck of doubt in him, he wouldn’t be offering his soul to her. He wouldn’t tie himself to someone he didn’t want or hold a deep affection for.

He was making this choice because he cared for Zylah more than he – apparently – cared for himself.

But he wanted her to be informed in case, in the future, the truth of this moment came to light and it cast doubt into her mind. He’d rather rid them of the potential now to save her from mulling over it later and hurting herself. He couldn’t start this on a half-truth, knowing she’d want complete transparency like she had argued with him for in the cave.

So how do I do it?

He looked down at his bare chest, expecting his soul to flow right out of him like it had when he’d witnessed Reia giving her soul to Orpheus.

Something did flicker at the surface, a bluish flame that appeared to break through water, like his skin was liquifying.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t truly certain, but his mind had yet to tell him this was the wrong decision. He dived his hand into the surface of his flesh, and it surprisingly sank right in without pain or resistance. When his hand met squishy heat, he pulled, and it came out easily.

When he let go, his soul floated between them.

His nose crinkled on one side as he thought, Why is it... aqua? Well, in reality, it was actually a mixture of blue and green, the two different flame colours spiralling all throughout his essence’s form like they were incapable of combining. That human’s was orange, like normal fire.

Could it be because of his Demon and Elvish halves?

He also expected that he’d feel cold without it, but he didn’t.

It sat in a cross-legged position, its arms resting loosely on its lap, and it hunched forward as if it didn’t have a care in the world. It was how he often sat when he was mulling over things. It looked exactly like him, from the bulk of his muscles all over his body, to his horns, ears, and even his current hairstyle. It even had two red slits that he figured were meant to be his eyes.

He was surprised to find it was animated and appeared aware as it looked at him and then over to Zylah’s skull.

In the shade of the grass dome he’d created, it glowed brightly between them. He realised the centre of it actually appeared to flow like lava, while blue-and-green flames flickered around its form. Its long hair waved and sent off sputtering flames before they died.

He liked that it didn’t appear fazed, like it’d been expecting this outcome. That it saw no issue being exposed and under her gaze.

All his earlier anxiety and worry faded the longer he stared at it, and he fell back to sit on his ankles when bizarre tenderness eroded any misgivings in him. This is surprisingly... surreal. A sense of awe came over him.

He brushed it with a forefinger curiously, and it raised a brow up at him, seemingly unbothered. It turned its head towards Zylah and then down to her reaching palms before it settled upon them willingly.

“Pretty,” she rasped, bringing it closer.

Oddly enough, for the very first time, her stomach gave a loud rumble. He didn’t know why that made him laugh, but he covered his mouth with the back of his forearm to hide it. Even more so when she licked across her snout before tipping her skull up to him.

“Are you sure I can have it?”

Jabez swore he heard dirt lightly shifting, as if her little tail was wiggling.

“Yeah, Zylah,” he stated softly, his eyes crinkling in fondness as the warmth of it radiated freely in his chest. “It’s all yours.”

Her orbs flared bright pink, and she brought it closer to her chest to inspect it. She brushed the pads of her forefingers across the top of its head and horns, and it reached up to stop her as if it didn’t like being petted – like him. Although, he had a funny feeling that if she actually tried to do it, he may welcome it so long as it didn’t feel condescending or pitying.

“I have this urge to eat it,” she grumbled, cradling underneath it protectively with both hands.

Always so soft and gentle.

“That’s because you’re supposed to.” At least... that’s what Orpheus had done.

“Really?” More dirt shifted behind her and she raised it higher towards her snout.

He watched her tip it into her mouth and swallow it whole.

Although he physically felt no different, something in his heart shifted.

All my life, I didn’t think I would ever have a mate. He didn’t even think he wanted one until now, but he’d chosen her, no matter the reasons or how it came to this – or what he had to give up.

In some ways, he was relieved. He’d struggled for a long time with the thought of being alone, of having no one truly close to his heart.

I guess I just needed a bunny to skip its way to me . He was satisfied that it was her.

She was beautiful, kind, and dangerous. Someone he didn’t need to protect, but someone he wanted to because they were benevolent. Someone he would try to take care of, and hoped she’d forgive him if he messed up because he had no idea how to be a giving person. He’d try for her, and hoped he learned how to through her.

Perhaps they could learn this together.

“My stomach feels warm,” Zylah stated with a small giggle present in her voice. “I don’t feel hunger anymore. It’s nice.”

He smiled lightly at her. “That’s good.”

It didn’t take long for his soul to crest through the top of her bony head. Black goopy strings shot out from it to tangle around her antlers. His soul willingly lifted its chin so the dark threads could wrap around his throat like a collar with leads from both sides, before more wrapped around his biceps, thighs, and waist.

I guess that settles it then.

He let the woven-grass barrier surrounding them fall and glanced over his shoulder to greet Mericato’s gaze.

“There,” he stated sternly, narrowing his eyes on the man. “She’s no longer an unbonded Duskwalker. May we now enter?”

“You understand what you have done, don’t you?” Mericato’s translator eventually stated on his behalf after he signed. Mericato’s expression was bland, but it did hint at surprise and mild concern. His hazel eyes bounced between them, unsure about what he was witnessing. “You said you had no intention of staying.”

Jabez scooped his new mate into his arms and lifted her into a safe cradle. “Minds change. You presented me with a challenge, and I chose the best way to overcome it.”

He walked towards where the two barriers met, and waited for Mericato to live up to what he’d said before: he would allow Jabez inside, and her if she were bonded.

“You both will need to be bound if you wish to enter.”

Jabez looked down at Zylah’s skull. “If you think to take my wounded female from my arms, I won’t allow it amicably. With her presence, you have a power over me. Once you have taken us to the hospital or healing area or whatever it’s called now, I will allow you to bind us both, but only then. She is currently unable to walk without pain, and if you hold any regret for what you did in the past, you will allow this.”

“You sure have grown cocky in the last twenty-one years.”

Jabez merely raised a brow and waited for Mericato to inevitably lower the ward barring the entrance. Mericato nodded, indicating for the two soldiers behind him to act.

“Fine. I will allow you entry. Don’t make me regret it.”

You probably will, Jabez thought, as he tightened his grip on the only creature in both worlds who had done something no one else had managed.

She made him have a heart he wanted to give.