If he tries to shove his dick in me, he’ll split me in two. She rubbed her closed eyes with one hand, digging her thumb and fingers in. Frustration bubbled. He’s a virgin. Virgins don’t have any idea what they’re doing and barely understand their partner’s limitations.
Because if he did manage to fit in her much tinier and delicate hole, he’d probably pump her to death – and not in the fun way.
He’s really sweet, though.
Whenever she needed to rest, he would find a really soft section of grass for her. That, or he would make a nest of branches that had thick leaves to comfort her. He even offered to curl into a ball so she could lie on him when they stopped in a rather rocky area. She’d declined that option, of course, but it had made her heart burn with a tenderness.
He was also protective of her.
Whether it be a fox, a rodent, or even a bird, he’d warn it away with a snarl. It was unnecessary, and somewhat foolish, but the more harmless the creature, the more it made her smile warmly.
It was like he didn’t realise he was the most hazardous thing to her. Every moment with him meant the threat of death lingered over her head.
She stared at the back of his white raven skull. At least my grim reaper has a pretty face.
She’d found it a little off-putting at first, but that had diminished over time. His glowing, colour-changing orbs helped. She’d once thought of them as soulless and hollow, but now saw them for what they were.
Life. Emotions. The essence of a creature who couldn’t smile, but could show his joy with a simple bright-yellow glow, or instead express curiosity with a darker tone.
Once she figured out what each colour meant, he became easy to read.
The pinkish red means he’s either embarrassed or ashamed. He didn’t show this colour very often, but when combined with his inward-turned body language, he easily gave its meaning away.
Ingram could be shy, and each time he was, something stirred in her and made her belly flitter. A big, scary, towering monster acting bashful and nervous? How could anyone’s heart not warm to that?
White means he’s either scared, wary, or… in pain. She felt terrible when his orbs turned white when he’d been trying to undress her near the lake. She’d given him a fright. Him! A Duskwalker!
She didn’t plan to reveal the truth as to why.
I just didn’t want him to see my scars.
Emerie couldn’t remember if she’d ever shown anyone. She hated them. She hated that they were a part of her. They were a stark reminder of her past, her pain, everything she’d endured, and everything she’d lost.
She wondered if she would have shown Bryce, but he’d never, not even once, been inclined to have her remove her shirt. He’d just fondled underneath it, and mainly on her… right, which was where she didn’t have many scars.
A sinking feeling in her heart had her eyes stinging, and she quickly blinked the forming tears away.
Nope. Don’t want to think about it.
She didn’t want to think about Bryce and how she’d been an idiot to not see the obvious signs. She’d been used because she’d allowed herself to be an easy lay in her desperation for intimacy. She’d just wanted to feel… beautiful.
She hadn’t felt that way in a long time. I feel like such a loser.
A howl in the distance, thankfully, broke her from her spiralling thoughts. Two more followed, and both she and Ingram pointed their faces in the direction the sound was coming from.
“What is the name of those creatures?” Ingram asked, huffing in their direction before wisely veering away. He climbed down a rocky hill to land in a lower part of the forest.
“They’re wolves.”
“A Mavka has one of their skulls as his face.”
“He has a wolf skull for a head?” she asked, bouncing forward in interest.
“Yes, and spirally horns on his head. I have only seen him from afar, but he lives in a human dwelling.”
“Where does he live?”
“In the Veil, like all Mavka. He did not like it when we trampled over his… I don’t know what it is called, but it was filled with human food plants, like your berries.”
“A vegetable garden?” Emerie hummed, tapping at her lips. “Why would a Duskwalker need a garden, or a house?”
Ingram’s big shoulders shrugged beneath her knees. “I don’t know. He has always lived there. I think that is where the Witch Owl wants us to go.”
Emerie didn’t need to ask who that was, not when she’d seen Lindiwe turn into a giant owl in front of her.
Still tapping her lips with her fingers, she eventually pursed them in thought. “Lindiwe said we should go to your brothers. I’m guessing this wolf-headed Duskwalker is one of them?”
Once more, he shrugged. “I am unsure. He is Mavka, as we all are.”
That… didn’t really answer her question.
“Well, where did you come from then?”
“I… do not remember, Emerie,” he answered honestly, rotating his head to look upon her with his usual purple orbs. She’d figured out over the course of the last three days that they were his normal colouring, since no emotion seemed to be attached to them from what she could tell. “The first thing I remember is my kindred.”
Since his bony face was eerily staring at her, she was forced to watch his orbs be swallowed up by deep blue. Her lips flattened, knowing that meant something akin to sadness, and the darker the colour, the deeper his sorrow.
Her heart ached for him, even though she didn’t know why he was sad.
Before she could question him on it, his head snapped forward, and he said, “The Witch– Lindiwe… said she is my mother. She said I came from her, that all Mavka came from her.” He halted his steps to scratch at the side of his neck in obvious irritation. “What does this mean? Did she grow us like a tree? Or did she bleed us from her veins?”
Emerie’s jaw dropped, then threatened to unhinge and fall off.
“Excuse me… what?!” she shouted in shock, causing him to flinch. “What do you mean you came from her and that she’s your mother? She’s a…” Emerie was about to call her a human, but then remembered what she’d done.
She’d turned into an owl and a Ghost.
Oh my god, she’s not human! What is she then? Emerie was willing to bend the rules of reality to accept this, only because she’d seen what the woman was capable of.
Lindiwe had also gone out of her way to save Ingram. Now that she was thinking back, she’d also bravely grabbed his beak affectionately in the forest. It’d been with care, like a motherly, concerned touch.
“Okay, so she’s your mother.” She rubbed down her right cheek, then jaw, to stroke her chin. “That would mean she gave birth to you.”
Ingram’s silence was telling, and she sighed as she craned her neck back. I’m about to have the birds and the bees chat with a Duskwalker. She pursed her lips. And I have to do it without explaining what sex is.
Snapping her head forward, she glared with determination at the back of his white raven skull and little sandy goat horns.
“When a mummy and a daddy love each other very much, they–” She knew she’d immediately lost him by his skull twisting one way and then the other.