Page 4 of A Soul to Steal

When he didn’t respond, Aleron gently raised his hand from the ground so he could brush his knuckles against the side of his elbow.

Gideon sprung to life, tearing his arm away as though he’d been startled. Aleron stepped back and lowered further until even his wings had sunk to the ground submissively. He didn’t wish to frighten the little male.

The human paused when he looked upon his skull, and for a few heartbeats, Aleron feared the worst. Especially since Gideon’s expression looked bewildered and distant.

Did I touch him too late?

Weldir warned him if he didn’t touch the humans within an hour, they would fall back into their dream states and... forget their most recent memories.

“Fuck,” Gideon spat out, combing his fingers through his hair. He turned fully to Aleron. “What the hell just happened to me? A whole chunk of my memories just disappeared.” Then he rubbed at his eyes before moving his hands away to blink at them, as if trying to regain them through sheer force of will. “I remember nothing from before Ingram confessed to Emerie and asked her to go back to Earth with him.”

“But you remember everything after that?”Aleron asked, twisting his head as he straightened on all fours.

“Yeah,” he grumbled, his eyes slitting with annoyance. “But it’s still shit to only remember half a conversation that onlyjusthappened.”

The initial introduction to them all meant little to Aleron, so long as Gideon retained everything else – which was much more important. For example, when he’d called Mavka caring,or when they’d shaken hands in their human custom of greeting. That was all this human needed, because Aleron understood it would be what kept him as his companion.

Without it, he’d be alone in this world again.

I must not let him forget... me.

How did I end up in this predicament?Gideon thought, then a better question came to mind.No. Why... am I in this predicament?

One minute he’d been talking to Aleron, trying his hardest to not be freaked out about everything, and then suddenly the Duskwalkerpounced.

Coiling lean, elongated arms around his body, Aleron tackled Gideon to the ground so swiftly it was like he turned into a striking snake. With both of them ending up on the ground, Gideon forced to be seated between the Duskwalker’s knees that came to his shoulder height, he found himself trapped.

Struggling had meant very little, as Aleron didn’t seem to feel it, notice it, or care.

“Some space, Aleron,” Gideon demanded, whilst trying to not upset the Duskwalker he hadn’t known before this very day.

He had no idea what his temperament was like, if the caring nature of him was only temporary and he was actually mercilessly violent. He may not tolerate being told what to do.

Gideon wrestled both his arms until one was freed. The rounded ball joint of his shoulder pressed firmly against his earas he stuck his arm straight up through a small pocket. He let his forearm flop onto his head to relax.

Fuck, I made it worse.He couldn’t fight with his left arm anymore. He swung it around uselessly.

“Stay,”Aleron gruffed out, tightening his arms.

Just remain calm. Figure out what he wants and then find out a way to get away from him.That didn’t look quite possible right now, but Gideon had every intention of ditching this clingy Duskwalker the first chance he got.

Will he eat me if I anger him?Gideon’s somewhat thick brows drew together.Can he kill me if I’m already dead?

Honestly, the fact he technically wasn’t alive anymore was the only reason he hadn’t lost his shit already. It helped that he’d had some positive – because he couldn’t say truly pleasant – conversations with this Duskwalker.

Meeting Emerie in the afterlife... then watching her be taken away to be some raven-skulled Duskwalker’s bride or wife – whatever that truly entailed – was a lot to wrap his mind around. Being stuck here also meant that anything and everything he did became fuckingpointless.

Even the air here feels stale and wrong.

Breathing didn’t feel natural. He stilled his lungs to test if he needed to at all. He didn’t. No tickle or burning sensation radiated in his chest, demanding he desperately took another breath.

He still did, because it felt unnatural not to, but it just proved how utterly futile everything was.

He pulled on the grey collar of the sleeveless tunic clothing him, before looking down at his plain-brown trousers and boots through the crevice of their bodies.I don’t think I was wearing this when I died.It looked familiar, perhaps one of his favourite summer shirts, but he was sure he’d been wearing a jacket the night he perished.

He could feel the weight of his gold hooped earrings dangling from both of his lobes. They were cold when they should be warm from his body temperature.

I still can’t believe I’m dead.

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