Page 32 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

A small campfire cast its subtle golden aura against the dusty dirt and dry stalks of grass. Above it, a clear sky of stars mingled with galaxy dust.

The dry season brought on cooler nights and drier days, making the air more agreeable. Although a symphony of insects chirped nearby, there were far fewer than normal, and Lindiwe didn’t have to fight off mosquitoes.

Tucking her heels up against her backside with her knees to her chest, she stared at the crackling fire.

Its glow didn’t reach far, leaving the world in darkness.

Even though she was out in the open, where there were likely Demons nearby, she wasn’t afraid.

She didn’t even feel the need to change into her incorporeal form to protect herself.

There was truly no need.

Not when a tail with a fluffy tuft tapped across the thick, meaty leg of her companion for the evening. His head was partially hidden by the shadows of night, while his blue-black fur took on orange highlights that revealed the lines of his imposing muscles.

Blood-red orbs peered at her from the darkness, and she kept her gaze averted.

Instead, she looked straight ahead and blinked with tired eyes. The warm fire tingled against her skin, while a cool breeze fluttered her cloak, causing the feathery hood over her head to tickle against her cheek.

It’d taken Lindiwe nearly two weeks to find one of her children on her own. The idea of flying across the ocean from Austrális had always been daunting, and she hadn’t truly understood what kind of exhausting journey it would entail. She’d guessed, but doing it had been hard.

She’d refused to ask Weldir for help.

She didn’t want to talk to him at all.

He’d asked her what she was doing when she flew past the shores of Austrális, but Lindiwe remained in her owl form. If she didn’t turn human, and was metres above crashing water with nowhere to land, she couldn’t answer.

She’d rested on islands when she found them. Some were inhabited by tribal people who had never been touched by Demon claws, and others – those closer to mainlands – had been decimated. Many had been void of life other than flora and a few critters.

It’d taken her a while to realise she’d found the lands of Zafrikaan, but its beautiful landscape was hard to mistake. She’d searched for her children and eventually came across the one before her now.

He lay on his side with his lion skull resting in the palm of his large hand. His tail flicked as he watched her, but otherwise, he remained motionless. The small breeze swayed his thick mane, while his broad chest slowly expanded and collapsed.

From neck to pawed toes, he was thick with muscle. Many of his protruding bones had sunk beneath his flesh, but some remained, like his ribcage, knucklebones, and spine.

She’d once thought his red orbs were an indication of anger or rage as his personality, but she’d been wrong. He was just... hungry. All the time. He hunted non-stop. Even his emotions were greedy and insatiable – like his curiosity.

His main source of prey was Demons. He actively hunted them, whereas he’d often leave animals be – and sometimes humans as well. Although he was an opportunist when the moment struck him.

It was why his mass hadn’t changed all that much, considering he feasted regularly. Consuming Demons didn’t change her children’s forms as much as eating humans or animals – it just made them stronger.

She often wondered if there was a limit.

“You quiet,” Ari commented, motionless except for his flicking tail.

A translation talisman radiated warmth next to her left breast. Try as she might, teaching him the native language hadn’t gone all too well. Ari had learned... Nyl’kira, the Elven language, from the Demons.

This was an abnormality amongst her children. Many Demons somehow adopted the language of the location they went to, while very few continued to use Nyl’kira. Sometimes it depended on what part of the country they were in, as if language was slowly being taught to each other.

Another point of difference was that although Mavka seemed to be a more universal term, Daesrin was what they called her children here. Whereas Daekura meant dark creature, Daesrin was a nightmarish being.

Besides Zafrikaan, another place with regional differences was Unerica. Then again, both the continents were huge, and human languages could differ as well.

“You not quiet usually,” he added.

Lindiwe didn’t respond. Instead, she tightened her arms around her legs and propped her chin on her bare knees.

“Is better. Speak too much.” He lifted his free hand and opened and closed it like a mouth. “Is rock. Is grass. Is tail. Annoying. ”

“I can talk, if you prefer, Ari,” Lindiwe grumbled spitefully, although her lingering, never-ceasing anger wasn’t at him.

“Sayrn. Ari you say, but Daekura call Sayrn.”

It was the first time he’d told her his name, and her first time hearing it, so she’d do her best to remember it in future.

Great. Another name has been taken from me. This was the fourth, and she was beginning to lose her enthusiasm for the task.

Then again, I would need to have another child for it to matter. And right now, Lindiwe couldn’t think of anything worse. She didn’t want to be near Weldir at all, let alone have sex. I guess it’s the wormy tendril for me.

She’d inform him when she was ready to continue her duty, but there would be no passion in it, no desire. It would be a procedure, and nothing more.

I don’t want to have performative sex. She didn’t want it to feel like a lie.

She’d been reaching for closeness, for affection. To share it and not be alone in her ability to feel pleasure.

She didn’t want her sex life to be a fucking joke. She also didn’t want to feel like it’d been done out of... out of pity! I’d just rather not have it at all.

Part of her was grieving the loss of it, while another was trying everything in her might to escape the constant anxiety.

Her pulse had barely settled since, and every memory of touch made the barbed ball of embarrassment needle into her flesh.

Her heart ached constantly, the emotion so strong it was like it’d taken root in her chest and grown another organ.

One that constantly flooded her veins with poisonous shame.

Two weeks had passed, and she still wasn’t over it.

I know it’s my fault for not understanding what he said, but how was I supposed to know? Everyone and everything with a beating heart at least felt things like pain, pleasure, hot, and cold. He should have better clarified.

Hell, when she’d offered to give him a blow job, he should’ve questioned then and there why she’d want to when he couldn’t feel it. That would’ve saved them a world of trouble; it was also the act she felt the worst about.

Rather than focusing on it, she was evading the problem entirely.

She’d set out to check in on all her children, without his help. To find a way to not feel so lonely, even if they often made her feel worse.

She eyed Sayrn’s torso and the way he was positioned. She wanted nothing more than to crawl over to him, lie down while she was facing him, and be embraced in a cuddle. Like all Duskwalkers, he was large, likely warm, and she’d bet his fur was exceptionally soft.

That was impossible, and lethal should she try.

And if I die, I’ll be sent to Weldir’s realm, and I’d rather not.

It was also best that she didn’t try to talk to Sayrn, since he was allowing her presence.

It was more than she’d been expecting when she saw him from a distance.

She thought he’d immediately try to eat her, like he normally did, but he’d spotted her in the sky, regarded her, and then continued his prowl.

When he’d set up this fire, maybe to lure something nearby, she’d appeared through the grass, ready to turn incorporeal. The fact that he’d let her sit down felt like a miracle.

It was better than sitting by herself, miserable.

Watching the flames, she let her mind wander.

He befriends Demons. Many times over the last five years, Lindiwe had witnessed Sayrn conversing with them around a campfire.

He lures them in. Even though they were fearful or wary of him, they’d eventually sit with him when he allowed it.

Sometimes he’d join them in whatever shade they’d found to escape the sun, then gain their trust by not hurting them.

He sought their companionship as if he wanted to ease whatever loneliness he felt.

Then, soon enough, whether it be after a few weeks or months, he’d be metaphorically picking his fangs with their bones. He’d eat his companions when it suited him, as if he was done with them and he let his hunger win.

Then he’d do it again months later.

Maybe he’s trying to find someone in particular, and they all end up not being right. It meant Lindiwe was untrusting of his current niceness.

It was a facade.

I shouldn’t stay long. Just long enough to immerse herself in his life until he no longer allowed it. I have two other children on this continent. One with a hyena skull, and the other with a crocodile one.

The latter was the only aquatic one besides Nathair.

Before long, her eyes drooped as tiredness weighed her down more than usual. Sayrn’s orbs seemed to redden further when she copied him by lying on her side, while tucking her hands under her cheek to support her head.

They stared at each other, and his orbs were spooky, masked in shadows when her sight grew murky. Conjuring a protective glittering black dome over her body, she continued to watch him until her eyes shut.

When she woke with bright sunlight showering over her, Sayrn was gone from his spot. The tail brushing over the side of her dome informed her she still wasn’t alone.

He was seated on top of it, with one leg bent and the other extended. As soon as she shifted to look up at him, he leaned back on his clawed hands and tilted his skull down to meet her gaze.

He offered her a dark chuckle, at which she crinkled her nose. He likely thinks he has me trapped. To prove him wrong, Lindiwe turned incorporeal, and the dome popped.

Sayrn’s backside hit the dirt with a thud, and a growl of annoyance rumbled out of him. He was quick to get to his feet as she rose to hers, and he stood over her Phantom form in his humanoid form.

Then he turned away to begin his day, doing whatever he deemed fit, his big feet squashing a shrub of long, grassy stalks.

Unexpectedly he demanded, “Come.”

Surprised at the invitation, Lindiwe bounced forward and followed. Hopefully whatever he wanted would be a nice distraction from her solemn thoughts.

It was also the longest she’d ever been allowed in his presence.