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His left cheek began to crack and wisp away, as if he was losing his hold on his face being visible.

As much as his words struck with truth, Lindi narrowed her eyes further. It was his fault as much as hers. Perhaps they just weren’t compatible for anything truly lasting.

“I will never turn into a Phantom again in this realm, Weldir, if that is your intention,” Lindi stated, refusing to acknowledge his accusations which deviated from the current issue.

“Your first reaction is to put yourself out of my reach and shout at me, rather than discuss,” he bit, his lips twitching into a scowl. “You have a nasty habit of speaking over the top of me, human. It begins to tire me.”

“The topic is not up for debate,” Lindi snapped, resisting the urge to falter. “I will not discuss something when there is nothing you can do to change my mind. Leave me here, for all I care. Break our bond, do whatever it is that you must do, but I will not be moved from this.”

“I don’t know how to break our bond without destroying your soul entirely.”

“Then do that!” Lindi waved her arms in the air as a show of petty annoyance, hiding how much her heart was racing at the idea of true death. “Dead is dead. What will it matter to me if there is nothing beyond? It is better than being stuck here, in your empty, desolate realm, alone.”

A tsk sounded from him. Then he pulled back as the entire left side of his face broke apart like the falling pieces of a hollow statue and moved to fill other parts of his body.

“I don’t want to do that.” He folded his arms, from what she could visibly tell, across his naked chest. Then they loosened so he could cover his face. “Is having a mate always this hard? Female, if you are discontent, you merely need to voice it. We can discuss issues, rather than dramatise them.”

Lindi shrugged her shoulder while snorting in disbelief.

“Why? So you can pretend I have a choice in such matters? You are a god, Weldir. Our histories tell tales of their mannerisms. Your kind do what you want, and us humans can do little more than bow our heads and accept it. We are powerless and our voices matter little.”

“I am not one of your gods!” Weldir bellowed with a beastly roar, and once more, his realm warped – more intensely than before.

She flinched, and stemmed the urge to cover her ears when they ran from the loudness of his yell.

“Lindiwe, do not lump me in with beings I know nothing about other than from tales in the memories of humans who have never seen them. I am not like them, nor am I even aligned with my own.”

Averting her gaze to the side at the strange and unwelcome swell in her stomach, she covered it with her palms once more in an attempt to soothe it. It was true she thought of him like all others she’d heard of, but why shouldn’t she? She had no knowledge of him, his people, or his desires.

In reality, she had nothing but her assumptions to work with, and even human men who wanted more wives couldn’t be moved.

Although, admittedly, they tended to do so for sexual gratification and variety, whereas Weldir, in all the years they’d been together, hadn’t attempted any kind of intimacy with her.

She understood that his want of this was simply strategic for the one thing he did desire: power. Did that make it better in her eyes? Sure. But she still couldn’t swallow it, and nothing would ever make her.

Her values were just too deeply ingrained in her mind.

Still, after what he said, not a word crawled up her throat. He was right; she’d gotten upset without even listening, and she was making assumptions based on her own lived history.

Lindi bit her lips and waited for whatever he said next.

Seeing she wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence, and was refusing to look at him, he moved into the path of her sight.

She almost childishly looked away with a pout, but she didn’t, not wanting to be perceived as immature – especially for a woman who was nearly three and forty in lived years.

“This task I have bestowed upon you was always intended to be shared. Having to create many servants and offspring, all at my whim, was a heavy responsibility that I thought you would not want to bear. That is my reasoning.”

Her heart twisted, and she lifted her knees to her chest for comfort. “Okay, I understand. I still won’t be a part of it.”

He moved away from her sight with a sigh. “Then so be it. You will have to wear it entirely on your own.”

Her lips parted, and her eyes flicked open wide. She followed him by swaying her hands around. “What do you mean?”

“A matehood is designed to be on as much even footing as possible, regardless of who and what beings partake in it. You merely need to share your desires, and I will try to abide by them as much as possible. Nothing is to be forced. You wish for this to be a singular bond, then that is what it will be, but then you must carry out the duties set out for you – just as I do my own in sharing what power and life I have with you.”

As she opened her mouth to agree, this a much more fitting solution to her, he lifted a hand to make her pause.

Then he seemed to gaze at her, as if with dismay. “But, Lindiwe, you must actually fulfil your promises. No more hunting the occultists, rather than hunting for souls for me to consume. Revert your energy to assisting me, as you initially promised. I have been ignoring you not performing them.”

All the tension in her body evaporated. “It’s really that simple?”

She could barely believe it. Lindi never thought he’d actually bend to her will. Not so easily, at least.

“Yes, little human. It is that simple.” Then his voice softened as he muttered, “But... it would be nice if you tried to be a part of this bond, rather than so detached I can do little more than witness you.”

“Fine,” Lindi conceded, tipping her head side to side while holding back her groan. “I’ll try to be more forthcoming and cease my wanderlust.”

“And try not to be so presumptuous. It irks me greatly. Heed that warning now.” His deep and gruff voice held the smallest rumble at the end.

Just like that, her anxiety and worry evaporated, not just for the conversation, but for some of the weight she’d been holding since she first met him.

Not all, but some.

“It only took us twenty-one years to have such a conversation,” Lindi murmured as she scratched at her forearm, embarrassed now by her outburst.

This was the first time they’d truly communicated or connected in any way. She was to blame for much of that, but it took two to talk, and he hadn’t been very open either.

I guess we’ll be doing that strange tendril thing he did last time. To say she wasn’t pleased was an understatement, but she’d deal with how uncomfortable it made her without complaint.

“Has it been that long on Earth?” Weldir laughed, and it sounded much more jovial than she could have mustered with the awkwardness that clung between them. “For me, it has been a little over a year.”

Her head reared back at that. What?