“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she whispered around huffing breaths, catching them now that he’d ceased crushing her to death. “I didn’t know how you’d react, but I had to get you here. I was worried you’d venture through the Veil, or get lost and distracted along the way. I wanted to make up for everything, but I always knew that when I got you here safely, I would tell you. I just… couldn’t leave you by yourself.”
By myself. If I kill her, I will be alone.
Not truly, he was discovering, since he had the other Mavka who seemed to have welcomed him within their group.
He couldn’t dismiss what she said, though. Ingram was easily distracted, and he was also impatient for the death of the Demon King and Aleron’s return. Keeping her safe, and following her, was likely the only reason he hadn’t gotten frustrated and just sprinted on all fours to Magnar’s ward.
He whimpered, wanting to put space between them, but just couldn’t seem to bear the loss of her warmth – even despite everything he’d just learned.
I… don’t want to let go.
“Why… everything else?” he asked.
Why had she touched him and let him touch in return? All the times he’d held her, slept by her, and spent fond memories with her, like experiencing a moment of peace in a meadow filled with butterflies. Did she truly care for him, or was it a farce to keep him placid until now?
Fuck. He didn’t want any of it to have come from a place of deceit.
Ingram had enjoyed all of their time together, even if much of their journey had been confusing. Learning of her, slowly having her open up to him, had been a gruelling wait, but worth it.
Like she understood what he meant, what he’d been trying to ask despite his unclear and pained thoughts muddling him, she let out a contented sigh.
“Because you are just so sweet, it makes me want to give you the world.” She stroked her soft hand against the back of his hard skull. “But I can’t do that. All I can do is help you kill the Demon King and give as much of myself as I can until then.”
Is that why she had instigated this hug?
She’d chosen to be within his arms, completely and utterly trapped to him, when she had known he may not react well. He’d been moments from hurting her, and she’d still trustingly clung to him and told him the truth.
Emerie had placed herself in a vulnerable position.
Did she want to show me she cares in case her words were not enough? That’s all he could think. She asked me to forgive her before she even began speaking. Told me she regretted it.
All of this was enough to stroke the worst of his shaken mind into calming. She had shown him the ultimate trust. It was enough to stir him into just embracing the feel of her while he tried to decide if he could forgive her, or even trust her anymore.
He stared at the dirtied cream tent wall as he took in the essence of Emerie.
Her heartbeat fluttering against his chest like it wanted to battle against his much bigger one. Her warm, shuddering breaths waving over the corded muscle of his throat. Her soft body moulding against his much bigger, harder, and imposing one.
Her hair didn’t glow in the dark, but it was a shaded red in a way that wasn’t angry like his orbs, yet stirred passion. It was silky as it crawled over the back of his arm and spilled her scent into him.
Her strawberry-and-primrose aroma was so luscious and mind-numbing that it pushed away any trepidation he’d been feeling.
“I’m really sorry,” she whispered languidly. “I never meant to hurt you, and that was even before I learned how wonderful you were.”
She did not do it out of callousness or hate towards me. Perhaps to a Duskwalker, a monster, but not the Ingram she had come to discover. The one that wanted to cling to her as much as she was currently. The one that wanted to touch, and taste, and experience her, as she had with him.
She made a mistake. That was what he wanted to believe.
He had made plenty of them.
He’d almost made another. I was about to destroy her.
“It… is okay, pretty butterfly,” he grated with a voice laden with so much emotion, it was thick and heavy.
He squeezed her once more, but in an entirely different way. In a protective, safe, and adoring cuddle, rather than a violent, aggressive crush.
He heard her wince as much as he felt it. She even whimpered.
She is hurt. His orbs morphed to orange as he bumped the side of his skull against the back of her head to nuzzle her.
Trade. I want to trade with her. He wanted to take her wounds and heal her.
Perhaps because of how deeply he desired this, the purple glittering glow of his magic was instant. It didn’t take long for the transfer to happen.
Immediately he felt tenderness around his ribs, like they had almost been snapped moments ago. There were also two massive palm-sized areas on his biceps and thigh that ached, with ten deeper presses to account for his own finger pads digging in.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, although he noted the sigh of relief that exhaled from her.
Her breathing returned to normal, no longer shuddering even though he hadn’t loosened his gentler hold. She also didn’t feel as weak.
For a long while, they just held each other in a comforting embrace. It carried no resentment from his side.
He was deciding to let what happened remain where it should have all along: in the past. He appreciated learning the truth of it, only because he hoped it helped to alleviate her own misgivings.
If it had been a barrier between them, then he wanted it gone.
He nuzzled the back of her hair again. “I am sorry for hurting you.”
Ingram then slipped his palm up from her biceps so he could place it against the side of her neck, wanting to feel her pulsing jugular. A place so vulnerable and soft, and proof of life.
“Thank you for forgiving me,” she said against his neck, her legs securing themselves around his waist even more. He smelt the tiniest speck of salt. “I was really scared that you would hate me once I told you. That you wouldn’t want to hold me anymore.”
He wished he could squeeze her even tighter to show her that he was content with where she currently rested against his chest. Her weight was light in his arms, and the silhouette of her petite body moulded perfectly against his own.
But, if he squeezed her much more than this, he would only hurt her as he’d been doing before.
Ingram wasn’t strong with words. He wasn’t good at articulating them into what he truly desired. How else could he convey to her that his feelings had not been diminished, but rather… strengthened?
If his words couldn’t be used, was touch his only option? He was beginning to worry that it wasn’t a good way to show his affection. Pleasure between them had started with a lack of emotional connection; its only meaning was to gain release for self-satisfaction.
He was unsure if this was how Emerie still saw his approach to it, when, somewhere along the way, his mind had begun to hunger for her pleasure rather than his own. The first time he’d released against her chest, something visceral had shifted within. It was when his mind, heart, and body started truly being… possessive of hers.
But it was before that when something had started to change. As she slowly opened up to him, and showed him more kindness and understanding than he’d ever received except from his kindred, he’d wanted to learn her. To discover Emerie and see if they could connect on a level that took them from being two beings, into one.