Page 17 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

A time unknown, but of strange beginnings

Huddled in the corner of Fenrir’s cave, the human never took her eyes off the Duskwalker who sat before her. His backside was on the floor, his arms straight to hold up his bowed torso, and his deer tail wagged. His orbs flickered between bright yellow for joy, and dark yellow in curiosity.

Although it was daytime, the cave was deep enough to be shaded. A dusty sunbeam cascading from the entrance and an oil lantern on the ground next to her feet brightened everything enough for her to see.

Her pale-pink skirts were dirty and leaf debris clung to her.

Her brown lace-up boots were neatly placed to the side, with her socks tucked into their openings.

Glaring through falling strands of her black hair, she pulled one of her satchels closer and flipped open the flap.

She retrieved an uncooked carrot and crunched down on it loudly.

Her blue eyes seemed to narrow further at Fenrir as she chewed.

“She has barely moved from her spot except to relieve herself,” Weldir commented as he tipped his head to the side to look at his mate. “Fenrir learned quickly of this need during their travels to the cave.”

“Did a Demon not come upon them?” Lindiwe asked, her eyes never straying from the disc.

The white feathers of her cloak lifted and swayed, as did her hair. Sitting cross-legged and similarly to Weldir, she was much more animated as she absentmindedly picked at her nails or scratched at an itch. She appeared restless.

“They managed to arrive without interference,” he answered her, resuming the observation of his offspring’s captive at the sound of another crunch.

“I’m worried about what will happen when a Demon does eventually come.” Her voice was small, yet her furrowed expression was indecipherable. “If he tries to protect her, he could go into a bloodlust and kill her without realising what he’s doing.”

“Do you think that will bother him?”

“Who knows? He might not care, or maybe he won’t remember.”

“You seem... nervous.”

She finally pulled her gaze away to where Weldir’s head was, even though there was little for her to see right now.

“I am. Fenrir is sweet. He’s rather obedient, and even if he’s wary of me, he’s never really pushed me away.

I think he’s... lonely... and has been since he gained much of his humanity.

” She bit down on her bottom lip, the corners of her eyes crinkling before she looked down at her hands.

“I want him to find a friend. To find... love , if it’s possible. ”

“Aren’t you being too hopeful?”

She was allowing herself too much yearning for this when it was likely to fail. I don’t see the human living past a few days. Fenrir would inevitably eat her, or a Demon would. She’s likely going to flee and get herself killed.

Not only was Fenrir’s cave at the fringe of the Veil’s forest, but she’d also need to safely navigate up the cliffside and then escape through the infested forest above. There would be no escaping for her, and Fenrir would chase after his prey before she could get far.

Despite the way her heart was beating fast and echoing in his realm, Lindiwe offered him a strange smile. “Sometimes all you need is hope.”

What a preposterous notion! Weldir didn’t say that, though; he’d learned that stating his objections could upset her.

“Take me home,” the human demanded, Weldir having missed her final bites of her carrot and whatever she’d done afterwards.

Fenrir tilted his head, and his impala horns cast a devilish shadow against the wall behind him. “No. Stay.”

Then he leaned closer to sniff at her face, and she shrank into herself while bravely, albeit foolishly, pushing at his bony snout. He licked at her hands, and his purple tongue slipped between the spaces of her fingers.

She cringed in disgust.

She retracted her hands and wiped them on her dress. “You can’t keep me here, Demon.”

“Demon?” He tilted his head the other way as he pulled it back. “Furnrearh not Demon. Furnrearh is Mavka.” He bashed his fist against his skeletal, protruding chest, and a hollow thud reverberated. “Mavka.”

The female’s lips twisted. “Did you just call yourself Fur and Rear?”

Fenrir shrugged. “Is name.”

“It’s stupid to call yourself something just because you’re furry,” she stated matter-of-factly, lifting her chin. “And mentioning your rear is impolite.”

“It’s only because he said it wrong,” Lindiwe whined defensively, covering her eyes with one hand and shrugging with the other.

“At least he finally figured out the gist of it, and that his name isn’t actually Mavka.

That was a pain to unfold in his mind.” Then under her breath and laced with a sigh, she muttered, “And it’s more than I can say for most of my children. ”

“Furnrearh,” Fenrir stated, punching his chest again. “Is Mavka.”

“No. Call yourself something else,” the human demanded. “I refuse to call you a furry arse .” She whispered the last word as if she found it indecent.

“Furnrearh,” he said again, before pointing at her. “Human. Little thing.”

“I have a name, and it’s not human nor little. Nor am I a thing. ” Then she grumbled, “But I honestly can’t expect any etiquette from a monster.”

Weldir looked at Lindiwe to see how she fared with their offspring being called such a thing. Her face was expressionless and dull, and that could only mean two things when it came to his mate. She either didn’t care, or she was boiling with rage over it; there was no middle ground.

It also made it exceptionally difficult for Weldir to know if he’d truly done something wrong or not.

“Human smell nice,” Fenrir said, leaning in once more with his deer tail wagging.

“My name is Katerina. Stop calling me human.” She braved pushing his snout to the side, and he resisted at first before letting her win. “If you’re too stupid to make up a name, I’ll give you a new one. It can be my gift to you for letting me go.”

Obviously she spoke too fast and too complicatedly for Fenrir, and he sat there twisting his head one way and then the other in quick succession. Rattling came from him, like dry bones clacking together each time, and it likely didn’t help his cause.

Katerina cupped her narrow chin and tapped against her cheek in thought.

“I think I’ll call you... Orpheus. I think that’s fitting.

If I try to run from you, I’ll likely be eaten by a Demon or a snake, and if you look for me, I’ll probably die anyway.

” She picked up the tangled ends of her hair and sneered at them before throwing the mess over her shoulder.

“I’m in hell, since you brought me to the Veil – of all the idiotic places – and you’re obviously already in love with me like in the tale.

Even in this pathetic, disgusting state. ”

Clearly realising she’d rambled to a being that barely understood a word of what she said, she rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh.

She placed her delicate, pale hand against her chest. “Katerina. Katerina is human.” Then she pointed at him. “Orpheus. Orpheus is Demon.”

He patted his chest. “Mavka. No Demon.”

“Fiiine.” She pointed at him again. “Orpheus is Mavka. Orpheus is your new name.”

“Orfeee... us?” He tilted his head yet again.

“Not Fur Rear. Orpheus.” Then, as if she thought it would help her situation, she leaned closer and placed her hand over his chest. “Your name is Orpheus.”

He nodded. “Orfeeeus.” Then he pointed to his chest while repeating the word as if to commit it to memory. “Katareka name Orfeeeus.”

Weldir’s mist vibrated with humour at the way he said his new name, and he turned to Lindiwe to share in that with her. It stopped the moment he found her looking off into the nothingness with an angry furrow to her brows and her lips hardened into thin lines.

“Something has upset you.”

Her fists clenched tighter until the skin across her knuckles was taut. “A little.”

“Why? She has given him a new name. I would think this is a good sign.”

“Because it’s not his name. This is the third child who has renamed themselves. I’ve always hoped they would one day learn their names, and right as he was beginning to do so, she takes it from me, from him. It’s just... it’s not fair.”

I see. I hadn’t thought about how carefully she picks their names, often with meaning behind them.

Seeing his mate in need of consoling, he reached across while forcing the physical parts of him to his right hand. He lifted her chin and turned her face to him, gentle and coaxing.

“Fenrir has a new name, but we know what it originally was, what it meant. That is all that matters. He is still our wolf-skulled offspring, and now he has a new name to go with all that hope you have. It is a name for a new beginning.”

Not that Weldir believed her faith was well placed.

Lindiwe’s expression relaxed as she blinked up at him. Her full lips parted, and she held his gaze longer than he thought she would. She didn’t pull away, didn’t groan in dismay or glare. Actually, from what he could gather, she appeared a little dumbfounded by his words and actions.

A wounded smile lifted her lips. “I guess that’s true.”

She only pulled away to look into the disc when Katerina spoke.

“Okay, Orpheus. Now...” She rolled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. “Take me home. I want to leave.”

“Stay, Katareka. No safe.”

Katerina threw up her arms. “I want to go home!”

Orpheus snapped his fangs with a growl at her loud exclamation. She gasped, her eyes widening, and then audibly swallowed.

“Okay.” She pulled one of her satchels to her chest protectively. “I’ll stay. J-just don’t hurt me.”

Orpheus gave a pleased, wolfy chuff before reaching forward.

Katerina attempted to duck her feet away, but she could only scooch them so far against her backside.

He gingerly grabbed her foot, as if he wanted to be careful, only to yank it too far and high, making her slide down the wall and onto the ground.