Page 54

I do not know how to do that, or why I even want to.

His sight shifted over the mounds on her chest, the plumpness of her backside, and back up to her narrow waist. He deemed all of them insignificant, instead checking over her thighs and biceps to assess whether or not she was a strong human who could survive this travel with him.

His sight lifted to her face, taking in her light skin, the white scarring on the left side of her face, and the dirt sprinkled on her. Even though she still, apparently, needed a bath, he couldn’t help finding her attractive.

Perhaps, even... the prettiest human he’d ever seen.

That might solely be based on the fact that she’d been kind to him, saved him, had touched him with profound pleasure, and had a goal that resonated with his own. Plus, her eyes were like cold water, yet they held such warmth that even the sun was cooler in their presence. They were framed by long, curling orange lashes, reminding him of a winter sunrise streaking over a frozen lake. He could remember sitting next to Aleron one dawn, watching it under the blanket of his big and heavy wing.

The flaming edges of his vision shifted blue as the weight of his grief struck him like a falling ice shard, embedding straight into his chest.

Emerie flinched as she raised her hand to shield her features when the sun broke through the trees. “It’s morning already?” she groaned out while squinting. “Just how long were you running before we stopped? No wonder Lindiwe didn’t find us easily.”

Lindiwe?Was that the Witch Owl’s true name? He hadn’t heard it before... or it was possible he’d been too distracted and wasn’t listening.

Emerie’s silvery voice broke him from the sudden trappings of his thoughts, bringing his mind back to the examination of his new companion.

The trees opened up, revealing the cliff edge of a ravine. Water sloshing, frothing, and rushing below bombarded his sensitive hearing. The sun shone down on them as she led them along it, likely to find a way to cross – even though he could have easily leapt it.

Ingram was assessing her shadow and the way it danced behind her when something glittered in his peripheral. Mild yellow lifted into his sight, a melding of joy and curiosity as he brought his gaze up.

Unable to help himself, tantalised by what he saw, he reached out and grabbed it. Emerie hissed and jerked back when he’d grabbed a fistful of her hair, his orbs brightening at the mesmerising lure of it.

His head twisted one way and then the other to better see past his beak, as he watched her hair glitter with an array of wild, autumn colours. Yellow like the sun, gold like the earth, orange like a sunset, and red like fire.

I’ve never seen such colouring on a creature.At least... not while they were alive, in the sun, and within reaching distance for him to play with.

“Ow!” she cried when he brought the long, wavy, but tangled strands closer to his skull so he could look in close detail. She twisted, looping it around his fist, to face him. She grabbed the length of it at the base of her head and tried to yank it away. “Why’d you pull my hair?”

“It looked pretty in the sun,”he answered, not seeing the problem.“I wanted a closer look.”

“That really hurt,” she rasped, tugging again.

Oh.He loosened his fist and allowed her to untangle the clump from his claws.“I did not mean to hurt you.”

Yet, a second later, he cupped her face when he noted the sun reflecting in her eyes and making them shine like crystal. The orange lashes framing them glittered just like her hair, and he couldn’t help being mesmerised by them both.

Currently, she was glowing. So bright and full of life.

He’d never seen anything as wonderful.

However, her eyes shut as she pulled back, cupping her cheek. The moment he spotted the bead of blood welling on the scarring over her cheek, he halted his breathing so he couldn’t smell it.

“You cut me,” she whined, her brows drawing inward.

Shying back, he cradled the hand that had harmed her in his other, his sight shifting to an orange. Guilt swirled around his heart, especially since he hadn’tmeantto hurt her further.

“I am sorry,”he offered, clasping his hand to his chest as his tail curled around his feet nervously.

“You have to be gentle with me, Ingram,” she stated firmly, shaking her head at him. “I’m not a Duskwalker. My skin is soft, and your claws are so sharp I’ve seen them nearly split a person in half with just one swipe.”

“But I was being gentle,”he argued, turning his gaze down to the claws glinting at the tips of his fingers. They were so sharp that the ends were nearly invisible to even his eye.

“Gentler, then.” She brought her hand away from her face, and already the bleeding had stopped. The scratch wasn’t deep. “You can’t just pull my hair or reach out to me so carelessly. You can’t just grab me and throw me around. I can be hurt very easily.”

His shoulders slumped in defeat as he continued to cup the back of his hand.But I liked touching her hair and face.

The meagre contact he had with her skin had greeted his fingertips with undeniable softness. It had been smooth like silk on one part of his hand, and textured in a way that tingled his finger pads on the other. Her hair, pretty as it was, had been so hot from the sun in his palm that it threatened to singe him – and he’d been hoping it would score him to the bone.