Page 67 of A Soul to Guide

Her nose had strengthened, so they needed to smell pleasant to her. Merikh’s orange and cinnamon draflium flower scent was intoxicating in a way she’d long ago realised she found uncomfortable – only because it sometimes made her eyelids flicker with bliss and her pussy flutter.

Her hearing had sharpened, and his gruff voice was darker, rumblier, more brutal than any other she’d ever heard. Sometimes, it caused the little hairs over her body to stand on end as she was struck with waves of goosebumps.

Another reaction that often had her cheeks burning.

His hands were warm and relaxing, especially since he’d never been violent with them towards her – not since the night she discovered what he was. They were large, even compared to her, like big, meaty paws that gripped her thigh nearly completely while he held her against his side.

Pressed against him now, he wasn’t soft, instead dense with muscle, and yet he felt... doughy. If she wasn’t careful, she could mistake that frightening strength as protective.

Still, even if she liked all these outside qualities, even if sometimes they made confusing heat rush between her legs, he, himself, was alarming.

Cruel, but kind. Evil, but good? What kind of serial murderer went around guiding a lost woman like her?

“I feel like that’s a waste of life,” Raewyn finally said, trying to push her thoughts to the side.

“Don’t sympathise with the humans,” he practically growled. “They don’t deserve your righteous pity.”

He’d said it so sternly, as though he truly,trulybelieved that.

Sure, Raewyn’s interactions with them hadn’t always been pleasant, but there had been many in Clawhaven who had supported her when she needed it. It was her own fear of being discovered that hadn’t allowed her to let anyone closer.

She turned her head away from him while nibbling at the inner flesh of her cheek. It wasn’t a pout, but her heart was aching.

“If you hate the humans so much,” she started, “then why continue to be around them? Why not go to the Demons?”

The scoff he released was so razor sharp, her shoulders turned inward self-consciously.

“You think the Demons are any better? They are the same. If you aren’t a Demon, you are food, and if you can’t be food, you’re the enemy.”

Raewyn lowered her head, wishing she hadn’t asked. It made her seem naïve, but she truly thought they would have welcomed something like him.

“There is a war in this world, and I tire of being in the middle of it.”

“You say that,” she bit lightly, narrowing her eyes into a glare. “Yet you go around killing humans just because youcan.You have a glamour that allows you to live among them, yet your actions are callous when they don’t have to be.”

“Oh, look. The Elf has decided to take it upon herself to speak of something she knows little about,” he snapped back. He paused his walking, and she sensed he was staring at her, his orbs sparking a brighter red. “You think just because I can parade around as a human that it’s like living? My identity is split in two, one where I am accepted not because of what I am, but because of what they think I am. Then, there is the side of me they fear the moment they look upon me.”

“Have you ever tried to remove your glamour and speak with them to change their minds?”

That’s what the Delysians had done.

“Of course, I fucking have!” he roared, making her ears flatten. “Do you have any idea what it’s like trying to strike an understanding with people, only for them to turn on you within seconds? That, when they think they have killed you, solely because it was either you or them and you chose it to be you, theylaughandcheeryour death? Only to survive because you can’t die, and remember their laughter?”

His growl was so close that his breaths brushed over her jaw. She couldn’t help lifting her chin to escape the intensity of this moment, of him.

“I tried. One hundred years ago, I tried, and that was the reality I faced. My apparent ‘death’ was something to be celebrated, not grieved over. When I spoke, no one cared to listen. I walked around without my glamour, minding my own business, and I was attacked byDemonslayers. I threw myself into the river just to quieten my own rage before I slaughtered them all, and have worn my glamour ever since, because there isnoother alternative for me.”

He faked his own death, and they cheered it?Raewyn’s chest tightened in pain and understanding.

“Merikh, I’m sorry.”

“Save it,” he snapped as he walked again. “I have every right to hate every creature that breathes in this world, especially when they all wish to see my own breaths cease.”

Tears prickled her eyes, and she hid them by turning her face downward.How... lonely.

She couldn’t imagine how it would feel to walk among those she was surrounded by and know that if they discovered what she was, they’d be hateful.

His acceptance was built on a lie. He understood that, which made it all the sadder.

---