Page 50

The woman ran in front of her and gripped her shoulders tightly, forcing her to look at her.

“What colour are my eyes?” the woman asked, and Emerie took them in, her blue ones darting back and forth between them.

Somehow, Emerie found their sparkling depths comforting.

“B-brown,” she gasped out.

“The sky?”

She looked up. “B-black.”

“What time of day is it?”

“Night.”

“What is your name?”

“It’s...” She sighed when she was able to take a proper breath. “It’s Emerie.”

With every question and answer, Emerie’s chest loosened a little more.

She chased her breaths, focusing on the woman’s face and how her brown skin was smooth, porcelain, and clean – when she thought it’d be stained in blood. Her brows were high, but gentle in their arches, and her cheeks were strong but feminine. Emerie took in the way the wind made her dark, loose-corkscrew curls dance around her dainty yet commanding features.

Her full lips, with a small amount of pink lightness at the seam, took her attention when the woman tried to breathe with her,forher – to give her a rhythm to match. Emerie appreciated that so much, for someone to just help her exist when she thought she was about to truly give out.

Even the smell of her was calming, heady, and delicate.

She would have blushed, but the woman’s gaze held not an ounce of judgement. It wasn’t often Emerie was clutched by a panic attack, but her mind hadn’t been able to handle how she’d just batted off a monster.

She couldn’t even look at him, shame prickling at her nape.

“Are you hurt?” she asked Emerie when her shoulders relaxed.

“Yes. I think I fractured a rib.”

With a nod, the woman closed her eyes. Black sand and mist glittered between them, but she wouldn’t let Emerie escape when she tried to back up in surprise.

“There,” the woman said once the flutter of magic disappeared. “Is that better?”

Emerie finally took in a breath that didn’t radiate agony around her side. Even the weakness in her arms from holding onto Ingram faded, and she looked her over with a puzzled expression.

She healed me?

“My name is Lindiwe. Thank you for helping us.” Then Lindiwe turned to Ingram. “I’m glad to see you are okay.”

It was only then that Emerie realised the woman’s clothing was covered in splatters of blood, and yet the Duskwalker wasn’t reacting to it. Then again, the weird smell cascading off her was undeniably strong – and inhuman.

Lindiwe’s brows drew together as she frowned deeply, and when Emerie followed her gaze, her own brows crinkled.

Ingram’s orbs were a bright reddish pink, and he was obviously staring at Emerie with the way his raven skull was pointed. Crouching, with one of his hands upon the ground for balance, the other was clutching at his lower stomach.

An absurd amount of heat flared in her face to the point she thought her hair might spontaneously combust. Averting her gaze, she winced when she realised Lindiwe had been barely an inch from stepping, bare-footed, into his dirt-soaked puddle of freaking jizz.

Hopefully that meant she hadn’t seen Emerie give him a quick handshake with his dick.Greetings, Duskwalker. It’s a pleasure to release you.

She snorted a laugh at herself, needing to use humour as a coping mechanism right now or she’d flip back into hyperventilating.

They both gave her their attention, heads tilted.