Home > Books > A Soul to Revive (Duskwalker Brides, #5)(108)

A Soul to Revive (Duskwalker Brides, #5)(108)

Author:Opal Reyne

But every time that sweet Duskwalker touched her, she could feel her resolve crumbling.

At some point, Emerie was going to part her thighs for his gigantic, tentacled purple cock and say ‘come hither’ while crooking her finger. If she could do that without any trepidation, that would be just fan-fucking-tastic.

She dug her nails into Delora’s shoulders, tempted to get on her knees to plead.

“There’s a spell,” Delora quickly uttered.

She darted her head up, although didn’t unfold herself from her sagging bow. “A spell?”

Delora squirmed, her hands clenching into tight fists. “Yeah. I-I can only tell you what happened for us because I don’t know about the others. When he, uh…” She covered her face to hide it, practically slapping herself. She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m telling someone this. When he put it in the first time, he shoved his claws into me and then my body just… made way for it. It’s like he magically rearranged my insides to fit it.”

Emerie’s features paled, and she straightened. “Didn’t you give Magnar your soul really early, and it took away his hunger?”

Delora was finally able to step back to put space between them. “Yes.”

“Well, shit,” Emerie groaned as she palmed her forehead. “We can’t do that. Ingram can be really sensitive to blood, so if he puts his claws in me, it won’t be death by dick, but he’ll try to eat me instead.”

She could picture being pinned underneath him by his cock, with nowhere to go, as he bit her head off. Emerie wouldn’t even have a fighting chance.

“The more humanity they have, the better they are at suppressing their hunger and urges,” Delora mumbled as she gave Emerie her side. “I think that’s why Reia and Mayumi survived it. Magnar was around Ingram’s level when I met him, so I don’t think I would have survived it had we tried then without me giving him my soul first.”

Emerie cringed so hard that her squinted eyelids almost blocked her vision. At least now she knew there was a way for her and Ingram to join their bodies like this, but now she had a new problem!

At her twisted face, Delora’s own morphed into one that was apologetic. “I’m really sorry. I wish I had more answers for… you.” Just as she was speaking, she leant to the side with her eyes widening and her lips parting.

She’d looked off into the forest.

Emerie looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at the person approaching. Then she gasped, turned, and faced the woman wearing a cloak of white feathers.

Bare-footed, her white dress caught fractures of sunlight as she strode silently towards them.

“Lindiwe,” Emerie rasped. She walked out of the garden to greet the woman. “I was wondering when or if you would show up.”

She nodded her head to Delora after pushing back her hood, and her loose corkscrew curls fell freely around her face. Her rich-brown hair looked shiny and glossy in the sun before she dipped into the shade of the house with them.

She brought her sharp gaze to Emerie. “I was unsure if you would survive, but it appears luck was on your side.”

“I’m a firm believer that you have to make your own luck,” Emerie argued. “I survived because of my own cunning.”

Surprisingly, Lindiwe’s features softened and her full lips curled upwards. “That’s one way to think of it.”

Delora grabbed Emerie’s forearm and tugged her back slightly. She stepped forward to be partially in front of her, as though she wanted to protect Emerie.

“What are you doing here?” There was no accusation in Delora’s tone, but it was obvious she was unsettled by the Witch Owl’s appearance.

“Can a mother not visit her children?” the woman mused.

“Yes, but every time you come here, there’s either danger or someone needs help,” Delora answered.

Lindiwe sighed, her expression falling into one that was dull. “I think it is best if we have this discussion with everyone present.” She diverted to the right without anyone’s direction and headed towards the porch. “Magnar can call for everyone.”

“Hey!” Delora exclaimed, running after her with Emerie in tow. “You can’t just go inside my home.”

The feather-covered woman glanced over her shoulder. “I go where I am needed, and right now, I am needed here.”

For some reason, she kept her gaze locked with Emerie’s for a lot longer than was normal, or comfortable.

A sense of foreboding washed over her.

She mentally threw her hands up. Great. There go my plans of figuring out how D plus V equals a great time.

Simply because all the other Mavka had drawn their females into their laps and arms, Ingram made Emerie join him on the floor by dragging her onto his thighs. She didn’t make any complaints, but her cheeks did pinken a little.

He liked it when her lightly tanned skin did this. It made her multiple brown freckles more prominent. He also liked that she warmed the front of him, while the fire from behind kept the worst of his fever chills from striking him.

He wasn’t bothered by the Witch Owl’s appearance. However, there was a staleness in the air, like the other Mavka and their brides were worried. He didn’t see any reason for them to be wary of her; she had played with him and his kindred plenty of times, and had tried to protect them.

It was unfortunate she had not been able to save Aleron as she had with him. Even though that betrayal still lingered like he’d eaten a thorny bush, the time since then had worn him down. Being around Emerie had taught him much, and he’d begun to… accept why she’d done it, even if it had hurt him deeply.

Ingram watched her closely, noticing how she was tense with her arms loosely folded across her chest. Her stance, although confident, was also defensive as she blocked the hallway in front of him and across the table.

That may be due to the many stares upon her, most of them mistrusting.

Faunus was seated on the long chair to his right by the fire with Mayumi and his younglings on his lap. Magnar was sitting on the big dining chair with Delora curled up in his arms, and her hand was tightly clasping his loose shirt.

Orpheus had taken himself and Reia to the furthest wall, which just so happened to be next to the door. It was like he wanted to be close to the exit so he could sprint off with the blonde-haired, pale female who was sitting on his crossed legs. He had huffed with red orbs when he’d entered, and had been carting Reia around in his arms.

He didn’t wish to let go of her, and she seemed content to stay with him.

Ingram had pressed the right side of his back against the rest of the rustic lounge Faunus was half-laying back on, with Emerie’s butt on the ground between his crossed legs. She was stiff as she pressed against him. She was the only female that didn’t appear natural, and no amount of hair patting had calmed her into relaxing for him.

He would have been disheartened about that if he wasn’t too busy trying to breathe through his blocked face. Had he’d known that having the illness called a cold would make him feel stuffy and drained, he may not have traded his own health for Emerie’s wellbeing.

At least he didn’t feel the urge to sneeze right now, but his throat was scratchy.