Page 29 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

A time unknown, but a confusing one

Soft humming filled Weldir’s ears as he watched all his offspring meander through their lives.

The glittering, misty edges of the viewing discs lagged behind ever so slightly when Weldir moved them around, then they reformed once he stopped.

The liquid-like, non-reflective pools glowed with differing times of days and seasons.

Some were vibrant with colour, like those green and lush in the northern hemisphere, while those in the south were a mix of wilting green, orange, and red – and in Leonidas’ case, a sprinkle of snow.

Orpheus he could only see from a slight distance due to his ward, and Merikh... not at all, due to Jabez’s ward.

For a long while, Weldir focused on Ari. He was seated in the midday sunlight, while the Demons before him were huddled under the shade of trees to avoid burning. They were deep in conversation, and the Demons didn’t seem to mind his disjointed communication abilities.

Ari has made new companions. For how much longer, Weldir was unsure. Most didn’t last very long.

Finding their conversation lacklustre and boring, he moved onto a new disc and inspected Ookpik walking across a dewy meadow. Not a single tree was in sight except in the far distance, and streaks of golden dawn hues shimmered across their blue-black feathers and white owl skull.

Weldir moved on, and Orpheus came into view.

He sits alone again, he thought, observing Orpheus sitting in the pouring rain in his monstrous form. Deep into the afternoon, the dark-grey clouds made it appear as though night had long ago fallen.

His orbs were a deep blue, highlighting that he was rather upset about his predicament, when his porch steps weren’t very far.

The windows of his home cast a dull glow over him, and at the movement inside, his orbs shifted bright yellow while his deer tail twitched. When Katerina didn’t come outside, his orbs receded to a solemn blue, and he looked down with his snout pointed towards the wet dirt.

Hmm. I do not understand why she makes him do this.

This was Weldir’s first time witnessing Katerina make Orpheus sit in the rain, but it wasn’t the first case of his offspring being banished outside. And if Orpheus moved from his spot at all, it somehow upset her further and prolonged his time alone.

Is this kind of punishment... normal among humans? Should I ask Lindiwe about this? That seemed like the wisest decision, especially with the current dreary nature of the rain.

Weldir leaned back to do a somersault through his realm. Weightlessly floating with utter control, he found the very female he sought before he even finished, and halted with his body upside down so they were at eye level.

She shifted her focus from the journal she’d been reading.

“Yes... Weldir?” By the twitch of her lips, he bet she’d been tempted to call him something else, something vexing.

“Would you say it’s normal for humans to punish each other by making their companion sit in the rain?”

Her brows drew together into a deep furrow, and her lips tightened.

Her gaze grew cold, and she looked off to the side.

“No, but it’s also doubtful the other person would allow that kind of punishment and actually submit to it.

Someone may tell their partner to leave for a few hours so neither loses their head and says or does something they don’t mean, though. ”

But Orpheus cannot conversate well, and he is exceptionally gentle with his female. Unless Katerina was the transgressor in this instance... but then wasn’t it best that she be the one to sit outside?

He realised it was beyond the depth of his knowledge, and without asking Katerina herself to understand her mindset on the matter, it was a moot point.

When Weldir didn’t respond, too busy musing on this, Lindiwe’s expression softened.

“How long are you going to stay upside down?” She tilted her head to the side until even her body tipped as well.

“Does it matter?”

She straightened with a laugh. “I guess not.” Then she leaned to the right to look around him, and her gaze fell upon his discs. She licked her lips. “I... actually have a question.”

“You have many questions. Constantly. What’s another hundred?”

She scrunched her nose at him, and with a shake of her head, gave what he hoped was a playful sneer. “Is it...” She licked her lips again. “Is it possible for me to see Nathair through your scrying discs?”

“Of course.” He waved his hand and a flat disc formed above his clawed fingers. It grew in size, and within seconds, both were able to look upon their serpent offspring with ease.

“Are you telling me that you’ve been able to do that the entire time and just never have?” Her disgruntled tone informed him he’d probably fucked up.

“You have never asked before,” he retorted blandly, as it was obvious.

Nathair was bundled up in his tail, probably napping or whatever it was he did in there. When Weldir looked at Lindiwe once more, her full lips were tight, her arms were folded, and her glare was sharp. Guilt trickled through Weldir’s mist.

“You ask about him often. I should have realised you’d want to see him, even if it’s from a distance.”

A sigh flittered out as she loosened her arms. “I guess that’ll do.” Then she pushed her journal to the side so she could lean closer to the disc. A small smile curled her lips and crinkled the sides of her eyes. “Look at him. He’s gotten so much bigger in Tenebris.”

“He consumed a few souls many years ago and it strengthened him.” He’d been good, otherwise. He’d adhered to his promise to not eat any more of Weldir’s souls.

She reached out and ghosted her fingertips right against where Nathair was, as liquid dotted her long, fanning eyelashes. Her smile only seemed to grow, while the affection in her mesmerising eyes deepened. Weldir was used to seeing that expression.

Never at him, but she’d worn it many times over the years for their offspring.

She looks the loveliest when she wears that expression.

It was utter softness. Contentment radiated from her, as did a tenderness that often sparked Weldir’s longing.

He didn’t know when he’d begun wanting her to look upon him similarly, only that it sat like a thickness within his mist. He wanted her to not only look at him fondly, but also in a deeper way that he doubted he’d ever understand the full weight of, even once he achieved it.

If only those eyes would gaze at him with affection, yearning, and glisten for something more.

I don’t understand this need. What they had now should suffice.

Lindiwe no longer regarded him with disdain or disinterest, and she was willing to not only converse with him when he reached out to her through the bond, but she often instigated it. Their relationship was smooth, lacked any tension, and had become... easy.

She’d even begun spending prolonged time within his realm over the last five years since Orpheus and Katerina had met.

She read over her journals, fiddled with her other artefacts, and brushed her hair, often styling it.

She watched their offspring with him for long periods of time and even slept here on many occasions.

This was all he’d originally wanted. Unity.

Someone to fill his void and let him know he was real beyond his prism. For their voice to fill the silence, and their presence to ease the echoing, solitary loneliness.

He had this.

So why did he wish to feel warmth, even if it was only ever in her gaze? What more could he want?

But there is something else, something I’ve been seeking, and it has been quite some time since I’ve had it.

As he looked at his mate, who was glued to the image of Nathair he’d projected, his gaze drifted. It trailed down the bridge of her nose, her full lips, her pointed chin, and then further down to her throbbing jugular. Next it dipped to the neckline of her dress, which framed her soft breasts.

He stared there for much too long.

I tire of waiting.

May 7 th , 1837

When Lindiwe touched the flat magical image of Nathair, she hadn’t expected it to ripple like water. It distorted him, but it was the closest she’d been to touching him in a hundred years.

Seeing him was bittersweet, as it tore open the scars over her heart at surface level, but it also healed those wounds so much cleaner. She’d always known he was there, alive in his own way, but it was different from seeing it.

Lindiwe waited with a smile, watching the hypnotic rainbows gleaming over his black scales. She wanted to see his skull, hooked ram horns, and orange orbs.

The disc pulled away, yanked by some kind of force, then shrunk before it left behind a fading cloud puff.

She turned to Weldir questioningly.

“Lindiwe...” he started, drifting ever so slightly closer. “It’s been a long time.”

Oh, Lindiwe knew exactly what he was talking about, and it truly had been a very long time. Or rather, it felt like it’d been too long, when in reality, they’d gone longer gaps of time between creating children.

But Lindiwe had felt that gap far more than usual. It’d been harder to ignore the way her breasts would grow heavy, her nipples pinching into aching points, or how her clit would throb while the entrance to her core dampened.

Every minute she spent in his realm, her mind had twisted with the idea that she was utterly encompassed by him.

He was everywhere – in her thoughts, against her skin, in her very breaths – and it made her all too conscious of his overwhelming, otherworldly presence.

Her body tingled more and more until she’d almost caved and reached out.

Had it gone on for much longer, she might have done so.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me,” Lindiwe said, rubbing the nape of her neck and laughing with her gaze averted. “I’m surprised it took you so long, if I’m being honest.”

“Waiting for me?” His tone was incredulous. “I’ve been waiting for you .”