Page 17

He’d tried. Nathair had tried to ignore her screams, the way her cries shattered through the water to tingle his ears and vibrate against his scales. Her begging, her pleas, each one had made his orange orbs shift to a darker hue incrementally. His insides had twisted, crawling as if tiny fish sickeningly swarmed within him.

He’d reminded himself it would be for Weldir’s gain, and that it would give him the peace he sought.

Yet, as guilt clutched at his throat like a set of hands, he couldn’t take it. The voices in his head, the many last moments he was forced to suffer, bombarded him worse than ever. They hounded him, bashing at the inside of his skull like they wanted to crack it open from within and rush out.

They were harrowing, making him claw at his back in disgust and hate.

Despite his desire to remain impartial, he’d saved her.

And, as another Demon came hours later, beckoned by her silly fire, her human scent, maybe even her fear, Nathair had assisted then too.

The second one had been less developed than the first. It’d had goat-like features: back legs with hooves, a prey snout with fangs, jutting horns, and stood on all fours. Although its upper body was similar to a human, its skin was void-like and glistening, showing it hadn’t eaten many.

Refusing to exit the water completely, he warded it back. When it wouldn’t leave, he had to swipe until he clawed its face, and it only retreated due to its pain.

The female huddled against his abdomen, trustingly pressing against him, and he couldn’t help thinking that foolish. Had he taken a single breath through his lungs, rather than holding his breaths through his gills, her fear scent would have enraged him. Despite not flicking his tongue forward to taste the air, it still managed to settle on his tastebuds.

His stomach had cramped, hunger eating away at him.

Before he could turn his rage upon her, making it far bloodier and mindless, he slipped back into the cold salvation of the water. Holding his breath via his gills also stopped the shift of his body, allowing him to accept the colder temperature at ease.

He currently sulked at the rocky bottom of his pond, annoyed with her and this situation.

Tomorrow, I will make her leave.He didn’t care if he frightened her, so long as she gave him the peace he sought.

I will have to... speak with her.Nathair shuddered at what that meant.

His own voice was currently locked behind some barrier within his mind, but he did have another option. He just... he fucking hated it, despised it, would rather tear his own scales off than do so, but he would do it as a last resort.

Clutching at his skull, he whimpered in the water, and waited.

Only once day broke, and light reached him, did he float to the surface. He peeked out of the water and took in her limp form sitting against the boulders.

Although her eyes were open, they blinked lazily. Dark smudges had formed just below the inner creases, and her fawny-brown complexion looked sickly. Even Nathair could tell she looked utterly spent.

With the hilt of the sword in her hands, she lifted her weary gaze to the sun. Dust particles floated around her face in the beam of light, making her entire aura seem to glitter.

Something about the way she smiled up at the sky, her lips parting to flash white even teeth, twisted his chest. She looked so soft in that moment, somehow even prettier, as relief settled over her features.

Then, as if that was all she’d been waiting for – light and safety – she closed her eyes. Her head lolled to the side, her lips parting to let out quiet breaths, as her shoulders and arms sagged. The sword’s hilt dropped to the ground.

With a light growl, Nathair grumbled at the fact she’d fallen asleep – even more so when he discovered he wouldn’t disturb it. She looked so peaceful resting there in the sun on his very territory, and he just didn’t have enough of a spiteful heart to wake her.

His tail swivelled below him to keep him afloat as he thought on what to do.Why did it have to be a female who came here?He thought he may have been less inclined to be benevolent towards a male.

He eyed her petite, curved form, disliking that she looked soft in all the best places. She was so small in comparison to him, so feminine and unguarded, as if she truly needed protecting. He didn’t like that he was helpless to keep protecting her, and kept doing so when he’d never had the desire before.

Swimming forward, he came a little closer to the pond’s edge where the boulders were. Quietly, as not to disturb the sleeping beauty, he placed his hands on the stone ledge. His claws dug into the grass just behind it as he lifted.

Water flowed from his gills, and he parted his maw to let it freely escape his lungs on a singular, hard compression. He leaned in closer. Like the day before, he took in her delicate features.

Her long, black eyelashes fanning down in her slumber were like the wings of a dark moth. Her lips looked utterly malleable, as if they would feel like cushions against anything hard – like his skull. He let his sight roam over her smooth skin, free of imperfections, and it seemed to glow in the sunlight. Even with barely an inch of distance between them, he knew her flesh would be hot.

Then something had Nathair choking back a strangled breath.

Drool flooded his mouth, saturating it completely, when he finally took in a long and deep draw of her scent. His entire being pulsed – his mind, his biceps and pectoral muscles, his entire tail clenched and shuddered. Even a throb lanced low in his groin, making him wince in confusion.

His mental fragments immediately pieced together the peach-and-vanilla scent currently rudely clogging his nose hole. He dipped his neck beneath the water, forcing himself to breathe through his gills.