Page 9 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

Nathair would react in two ways whenever Weldir attempted to soothe him.

He would reject the placations, as Weldir couldn’t offer him a solution other than his presence.

Or he’d lash out violently, asking how Weldir could torment him by keeping him here against his will, demanding to be returned.

To be given life and taken from here so he could truly live.

Sometimes he was enough for his offspring, and at other times Weldir was his tormentor. It was... dispiriting.

But there is nothing I can do, he thought solemnly. I cannot even give myself true life.

Moving back to a different child, he didn’t feel any better when he looked upon... Merikh. Especially when he saw him walking with Jabez through the Veil. He stood on two legs and was the first of his offspring to reveal that they could change into a more humanoid version.

The name felt wrong, foreign even, but it was Orson’s newly appointed name. He didn’t know what the word signified, since Jabez was the one to give it to him.

Merikh’s fur was long and shaggy in some places, but it had shrunk a little around his waist and abdomen. His quills were still long and sharp, and Weldir counted each one to make sure his sculpture was accurate.

His bones have almost disappeared entirely. He could only spot the top of his sternum and collarbones, and a few knuckles on his hands and toes. He was large, standing a few inches taller than Jabez, and slightly more muscular.

He likely sees my offspring as a tool. Something he could use to empower himself, as Merikh was stronger and faster than any Demon, and his quills made him a weapon and a shield.

Then again, he was violent and quick to slip into a rage.

He’d seen Jabez somehow skilfully evade an enraged Merikh a handful of times.

At least the halfling never lashed out at his offspring.

No, worse, he often applauded him for it. Jabez liked that Merikh was this way, having even taken him to a human village to destroy.

Weldir didn’t know if he was furious about that or thankful for Merikh’s increase in humanity as a result. Merikh was actually rather intelligent now. He stood like a human, often spoke like one – although brutishly – and wore pants as if to emulate them.

He was weirdly accepted by the Demons who surrounded Jabez, and if he wasn’t, both would make them scamper off with their tails between their legs.

That easy acceptance left Weldir feeling at odds with himself.

He valued the companionship his offspring had, and that it made him.

.. happy. Content even. Merikh wanted this bond and protected it fiercely.

It kept him safe, even from Weldir’s biggest foe.

Yet Weldir’s hatred of Jabez had also grown over the years.

Mainly because he was in the way of Lindiwe and Merikh rekindling whatever relationship they could have.

She’d attempted to intervene after Jabez took Merikh to feed on the village of humans – Weldir having kept her informed.

She’d grown enraged, disappointed, and..

. frightened. She didn’t want their offspring to be the cause of such devastation and destruction, no matter that Jabez had, oddly, protected the young and vulnerable behind a ward.

Getting Merikh to listen to her was like talking to a wall, and she couldn’t fully explain why . She didn’t want to reveal that Merikh was the creation of someone Jabez hated as much as Weldir hated him in return.

She’d tried to do this without Jabez, but the two were near inseparable. So she’d given up and just confronted them both.

He still remembered the conversation as if it were happening before him. It wasn’t a recent memory, but Weldir could never pinpoint where on the ravels of time it was.

All he knew was that it was years before Lindiwe left for Unerica...

“He is evil and will turn on you the moment you are no longer useful to him,” she stated firmly, pointing at Jabez’s grinning face.

His sharp fangs looked more prominent than usual. His crimson eyes had an arrogant edge to them that wasn’t present the last time they’d faced off at the waterfall. He looked older, somewhere in his early to mid-twenties, and his hair was shoulder length.

“I don’t see why you give a fuck about who he spends his time with,” Jabez pointedly answered, loosening his crossed arms to shrug with exaggerated nonchalance.

Weldir noticed the way her pretty features winced, and how her eyes darted between them as she scrambled for a suitable answer.

“Because I’ve befriended other Duskwalkers and they aren’t inherently evil.” She pulled her shoulders back and lifted her pointed chin. “You took this one to a village and destroyed it.”

“We did see another Mavka there as we were leaving.” Merikh sneered, his red orbs brightening to show his growing anger. He mimicked Jabez and folded his arms across his muscular chest, which caused his narrow hips to push forward.

“You just want to get in the way of his evolution. You want him to be stunted, like the other Mavka we saw. The feline-skulled one.” Jabez cocked a brow, as if daring her to say otherwise – when he couldn’t be further from the truth.

Lindiwe no longer deterred their offspring from evolving. She often wasn’t there to stop it. She was always in another part of the world when they ventured near humans and had grown to accept that this was just a part of what happened when it came to their offspring.

They didn’t always attack villages, towns, or cities, and were more curious than anything – depending on the Duskwalker and their level of humanity.

Anzúli had scent cloaks around most villages now, so his offspring just sniffed along the borders and walls and then usually meandered away with boredom.

Merikh loosened his folded arms enough to point a claw at her. “You see us as monsters, as a danger, and want to protect the humans.”

The hurt in her eyes was unmistakable. “I could never see you as a monster, Orson.”

Merikh cocked his head in a lack of understanding. “That’s not my name. Whoever I was to you died the moment you took the serpent one from me.”

Tears instantly brimmed her doe-brown eyes, reddening the whites of them. “You did that! Don’t blame me for taking his skull somewhere safe when you were the one who killed him!”

Merikh stammered as he stepped back, his orbs flashing blue, then orange. “N-no. You did. You destroyed him.”

Both Weldir and Lindiwe registered that Merikh had warped memories of that time; he no longer remembered it clearly. In the same way he often forgot his name or how to speak at the time.

“It means he doesn’t remember how he killed him,” Weldir stated through the bond. “He cannot tell Jabez how to destroy his own kind. This is a good thing, Lindiwe.”

With the way her forehead scrunched up and her eyes crinkled in anguish, she agreed, but it was obvious she didn’t appreciate the silver lining in this.

“I took your brother to Weldir’s realm after you destroyed him, Orson.”

“That’s not my name!” Merikh roared, parting his maw to flash his fangs in their Duskwalker way as he bared his claws. He then bashed a fist against his chest where his heart would be. “It is Merikh!”

She flinched and her eyes crinkled further, almost with loss. “Merikh, then,” she conceded. She levelled an intense glare at Jabez like she wished the world would crumble on top of him. “He will turn on you. Exactly how he turned on me.”

“Because I didn’t care about you,” Jabez answered, the bridge of his nose crinkling. “You’re Weldir’s fucking pet. You’re the enemy, and in our way.”

“As the protector of humans and Duskwalkers, I don’t approve of this.” Then she turned a beseeching expression to Merikh. “Do you remember nothing of the time we spent in Nathair’s territory?”

“I barely remember you at all. Only my hatred of you and what you did.”

Her hands fisted at her sides. But her anguish deepened, and she didn’t have a response.

Jabez narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Lindiwe. Then he stepped forward, stalking around her and encroaching on her space. “Why do you care for Mavka so much?”

Lindiwe steeled her expression and lifted her chin once more. “Why do you care for him so much? I am deathless, and they aren’t evil. I have found companions where I can. Shouldn’t our time at the waterfall have made it obvious as to what I seek?”

Then she stared up at him in her incorporeal form when he towered right in front of her.

“Come near us again, and I’ll be much quicker at killing you. Then you can go back to Weldir like a good pet and lick your wounds, and come back for me to do it again.”

“I could end you within a heartbeat.” She sneered up at him.

“You have no idea the power I wield, and the only reason I have not done so is that I could incinerate this entire forest with a black fire not even I could put out if it reaches far enough. The flames would engulf every tree, rock, Demon, and Duskwalker until they reached the shores. And even then, they would not stop.”

He chuckled menacingly and arrogantly down at her. “That’s doubtful.”

One thing Weldir knew about his mate was that she was short-tempered when it suited her, she held grudges, and she hated being tested. She loathed her ego being prodded at and couldn’t stand losing.

Jabez didn’t even have the chance to react when she bounced forward while turning physical.

Perhaps he hadn’t expected her to become tangible and put herself in danger by doing so.

Regardless, she grabbed his wrist and set it alight.

Within a second, the black flames engulfed his hand, and he belted out a scream Weldir found rather satisfying.

She grabbed the edges of her raven cloak and flapped it, turning them into temporary wings to leap over an enraged Merikh, who lunged at her.

Instead of attempting to put the fire out, Jabez wisely – although unfortunately for Weldir – gouged into his elbow and removed his own arm before the flames could claim him totally.