Page 69
Story: A Soul to Revive
The more he learned, the more worried she became that he would start... trying things with her. A sexually curious Duskwalker sounded like a dangerous combination.
Even if she were to consider letting him discover all this with her, which she wasn’t, Emerie was worried about the size of him. Not just his massive dick that she’d needed to hold with both hands just to contain, but also his body.
What if he got too carried away and accidentally clawed her? Or crushed her as he laid down on top of her?
If he tries to shove his dick in me, he’ll split me in two.She rubbed her closed eyes with one hand, digging her thumb and fingers in. Frustration bubbled.He’s a virgin. Virgins don’t have any idea what they’re doing and barely understand their partner’s limitations.
Because if he did manage to fit in her much tinier and delicate hole, he’d probably pump her to death – and not in the fun way.
He’s really sweet, though.
Whenever she needed to rest, he would find a really soft section of grass for her. That, or he would make a nest of branches that had thick leaves to comfort her. He even offered to curl into a ball so she could lie on him when they stopped in a rather rocky area. She’d declined that option, of course, but it had made her heart burn with a tenderness.
He was also protective of her.
Whether it be a fox, a rodent, or even a bird, he’d warn it away with a snarl. It was unnecessary, and somewhat foolish, but the more harmless the creature, the more it made her smile warmly.
It was like he didn’t realise he was the most hazardous thing to her. Every moment with him meant the threat of death lingered over her head.
She stared at the back of his white raven skull.At least my grim reaper has a pretty face.
She’d found it a little off-putting at first, but that had diminished over time. His glowing, colour-changing orbs helped. She’d once thought of them as soulless and hollow, but now saw them for what they were.
Life. Emotions. The essence of a creature who couldn’t smile, but could show his joy with a simple bright-yellow glow, or instead express curiosity with a darker tone.
Once she figured out what each colour meant, he became easy to read.
The pinkish red means he’s either embarrassed or ashamed.He didn’t show this colour very often, but when combined with his inward-turned body language, he easily gave its meaning away.
Ingram could be shy, and each time he was, something stirred in her and made her belly flitter. A big, scary, towering monster acting bashful and nervous? How could anyone’s heart not warm to that?
White means he’s either scared, wary, or... in pain.She felt terrible when his orbs turned white when he’d been trying to undress her near the lake. She’d given him a fright. Him! A Duskwalker!
She didn’t plan to reveal the truth as to why.
I just didn’t want him to see my scars.
Emerie couldn’t remember if she’d ever shown anyone. She hated them. She hated that they were a part of her. They were a stark reminder of her past, her pain, everything she’d endured, and everything she’d lost.
She wondered if she would have shown Bryce, but he’d never, not even once, been inclined to have her remove her shirt. He’d just fondled underneath it, and mainly on her... right, which was where she didn’t have many scars.
A sinking feeling in her heart had her eyes stinging, and she quickly blinked the forming tears away.
Nope. Don’t want to think about it.
She didn’t want to think about Bryce and how she’d been an idiot to not see the obvious signs. She’d been used because she’d allowed herself to be an easy lay in her desperation for intimacy. She’d just wanted to feel... beautiful.
She hadn’t felt that way in a long time.I feel like such a loser.
A howl in the distance, thankfully, broke her from her spiralling thoughts. Two more followed, and both she and Ingram pointed their faces in the direction the sound was coming from.
“What is the name of those creatures?”Ingram asked, huffing in their direction before wisely veering away. He climbed down a rocky hill to land in a lower part of the forest.
“They’re wolves.”
“A Mavka has one of their skulls as his face.”
“He has a wolf skull for a head?” she asked, bouncing forward in interest.
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