Page 14 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

“N-no, it’s fine,” she answered with a false grin. “I’m enjoying going through my things and having your silent company.”

He lowered the cloak to peer at her as if he wanted to decipher the very fabric of her soul. Then after a long moment he turned his gaze down and resumed his task. She was thankful he let the conversation die.

He brought the dead owl closer and cut into it with a claw. Then he appeared to draw out some of its blood with nothing but his mind. A bubbling stream moved through the air, while the light-blue mana stone attached to her cloak floated and the blood encased it.

Hovering his hands on either side of it, a bright light radiated from them. Silence rang in her ears. Is he doing some kind of incantation in his mind?

Then Lindiwe noticed the bright light actually had a shape. Tiny threads twirled with the blood until they were twisted tightly, and they wrapped around the mana stone and slowly began to sink inside it.

“Wait,” she rasped, her eyes widening. “You can use magic that isn’t of shadows?!”

Weldir grunted as his hands pushed closer towards the mana stone. He didn’t answer, nor lift his head, and Lindiwe winced.

Oops. He did say he couldn’t talk at the same time. She turned back to her own task – she was supposed to be reading.

But she was interested in the fact that he could use magic that was entirely colourless and wondered what else he could do. At the same time, giddiness simmered inside her at knowing her cloak was likely going to be ready soon.

Since he was distracted and wouldn’t watch her strip, she took the opportunity to change into a dress that would be suitable for the warmer seasons of Austrális. She folded her sealskin garment on top of a pile she thought best fitted it.

As the many hours passed, unable to be tracked in Weldir’s realm, she eventually curled up on her side. Deciding to rest in a place of utter safety while she could, surprisingly she dozed off quickly.

Only when something tickled her cheek and brushed over her temple did she flinch and fling open her eyes. Weldir was next to her, with his foreclaw close to her face, like he’d brushed a curl behind her ear.

Exhaustion continued to pester her, but her cheeks warmed because all her earlier thrumming meant her dreams hadn’t been innocent. They hadn’t been for a very long time, often waking her with a prevalent ache between her thighs over the years.

He handed her cloak to her. “It is done.”

Blinking against the tiredness and desire battling each other, she spread it out with a wide smile curling her lips. “It’s perfect. Thank you so much.”

He nodded, then floated back to give her a small amount of space. Adoration filled her as she thumbed the snowy owl feathers, excited to transform into one for the first time.

I wonder if the flight will be different. If it would feel different, not just in the air, but in her heart, her spirit.

“Would you like me to transport you to Austrális now?”

The question caught her off-guard. Not because it was strange, as that was usually where she would start her check on her children when she’d been away for a long time, but because she hadn’t expected him to offer it so readily.

Her heart sank a little at the prospect. I’ve been here for hours and he hasn’t wanted anything. He didn’t even ask to touch her, or for an offspring.

Maybe my expectations were a little too high.

She had no one to blame but herself for that, especially as she was complicit in perpetuating Weldir’s ignorance by maintaining her silence regarding her wants.

She just... the idea of being rejected so sharply like he’d done in the past still lingered as a sore spot and made her hesitant to reach for more.

It stopped her from being confident.

A small sigh flittered out of her as she threw the white-feathered cloak over her shoulders to test its fit. It hid her blue knee-high dress almost completely.

“Austrális is good. I’d like to check on Fenrir and Leonidas first.”

“What of Merikh?”

She scrunched her nose. I really hate that name. She hated that the name she’d given him was taken from her, and even more so because the name had been special to her – a tribute to her father and his memory.

But she would use it because she respected his wants.

“I think he’ll try to kill me on sight, so that’s not really a good idea. I’ve been practising at making scrying discs like the Anzúli. Once I’ve perfected it, I’ll be able to check up on him without him knowing.”

“I don’t think he’d like that.”

Lindiwe averted her gaze as guilt nipped at her stomach. “I know, but I just want to be able to check that he’s safe.” Then she shot him a little glare as she said, “You do it all the time.”

A wide grin revealed his fangs. “But I watch everyone. This is not unusual for me.”

But I watch everyone, mur mur mur. She opened and closed her mouth to mock him.

“Austrális, please ,” she demanded, cutting him a playful scowl.

“Nathair does that.” Weldir’s tone held the mildest chuckle.

Her brows drew together. “Does what?”

“Mocks me when I speak. I find it quite humorous.”

“Well, he is my child.” She tried to laugh it off.

“That he is,” he answered, as darkness rushed out of her sight and she was hurtled into bright midmorning sunlight.

A little discombobulated, she tried to get her bearings and note her surrounds while searching for danger. Cool wind swept through her hair and clothing, pushing it all around and towards the canyon below.

Getting ready to leave the cliffside of the Veil, she took a step towards the forest, only to pause. She lifted the hem of her cloak, and a smile split across her face.

“Thank you, Weldir. Truly.”

“You are welcome, owlet.”

Lindiwe blinked. Did he just call me a baby owl?