Page 53
Story: A Soul to Protect
And this poor female’s soul had four burns from what he could see: on the left side of its face, its left inner thigh, its right breast and shoulder, and one that spanned over both wrists. There could be more on its back, but he couldn’t tell.
He didn’t know if all four were from physical violence, or sexual, nor did it inform him if it were multiple people or just one vile cretin. It didn’t matter. Linh was tiny, petite, anddefenceless.No one deserved these parasitic markings, especially not this alluring creature.
But, due to her earlier reaction, he knew.
Nathair knew why she did not mind his hold, but the feel of his arousal had given her such a concerning reaction.
She was right. It was not his fault, nor was it hers.
While he held it, Nathair admired her beautiful soul. It looked just like her, from her generous breasts, round backside, her narrow waist, the gentle shape of her face, to even her long, straight hair. He lifted his palm and nuzzled it with the back of his index finger.
It didn’t particularly like that – her infected soul was likely untrusting of anything – but that was fine. He’d like to teach it that not everyone, or everything, would cause it harm.
He lowered it to take in Linh’s frozen gawk. Her eyes were riveted to it, and she watched as he tipped his hand down and let her soul find its way back to its owner.
“What thefuckdid you just take from me?” she asked, surprising him due to her swearing. He couldn’t remember her doing so before.
I did not take it. I borrowed it – momentarily. I did return it.He thought all this to justify what he’d done.
Especially since... if he had ripped it, the little female before him would have died instantly. A soul was an exact replica of the current living body. Had he destroyed it, she and it would disappear forever – no human could survive being in two pieces.
It was why they could not be shared between Mavka; not that his possessive kind could handle sharing anything on such a deep and territorial level anyway. Weldir had been able to warn him of this, as well as many other things.
An eaten soul pieced back together within Mavka and Demon stomachs, and turned white to signify its death. However, to eat a soul while its wielder still lived... a Mavka’s body bonded to it protectively.
They were delicate things.
Linh cast her gawk up at him, and he greeted it with understanding.
This tiny creature longed to be protected because the world had been undeniably cruel. She’d turned to him for it, latching onto a monster that could, literally, fight all her Demons – including the ugly ones clinging to her soul, should she allow it.
He’d scented her arousal before, so not all hope was lost.
The fact she’d felt it at all, and for him no less, meant much and made pride swell behind his sternum. She trusted him morethan humans; she could see he wanted to be a benevolent spirit upon the world.
He did not wish to be violent, nor was this why he was created.
The need to remove her from his home for her own safety waned. Instead, his heart ached to shield her from the world even more than he did before. To not only protect her from others, but from the parasitic wounds on herself.
He could not fight them for her; they were not his battle to face. However, he could be her armour, her sword, and her steed, fighting alongside her until she claimed victory.
Maybe she could save him in return somehow.
She makes the fragments easier to handle.His attention was often so focused on her that they grew quieter. Her face sometimes shone brighter than the fragments, her scent stronger than the ones in his mind, her touch grounding him in the present.
She was witty enough to understand him in the silence. Tender enough to try to listen to him when he’d never spoken a word. Her touch was benign, rather than handling him like the massive monster he was.
He hadn’t wanted her to leave for these reasons. He’d never truly wanted to let her go, but he’d been worried she wouldn’t trust him anymore now that he’d revealed his growing longing. He hadn’t even realised how deeply he desired a bride until she came and refused to leave.
Nathair lowered himself and gingerly scooped her up. She recoiled, and her brows swiftly knotted in distress.
The moment she opened her mouth, likely to plead, beg, and cry, Nathair darted his skull forward. He licked her cheek, showing her she didn’t need to worry, as he lifted her.
He slithered towards his nest.
“W-wait,” she rasped when he placed her inside it.
Then, in case she now associated it with his desires, he curled himself around the outside of its walls. He didn’t join her, didn’t overwhelm her with his presence, and she watched as he settled down at a distance. Nathair folded his arms on top of the nest’s thick ledge and placed his jaw on the x of his forearms.
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