Page 5 of To Free a Soul
When there was a small pause, she pulled away from viewing through her spectacle to wait patiently.
“It has been many years, Lindiwe. The land you currently reside in is vast, and I would like more of our offspring there. Especially north of your location.”
The delightful shiver tore down her spine and collected as a heating pool between her thighs, making her squeeze them together. More offspring meant moresex, and Lindiwe found that titillating and body-thrumming at just the mere mention.
It had been sixty-nine years since Leonidas was brought into the world, and the procreation begetting him had been the beginning of passion between them. They’d brought six other Duskwalkers into the world since then, although none in Austrális. Two more in Zafrikaan, one in Pyrssia, then one in Siran. She even did her duty while she was here in Unerica, in this city, leaving for a few months to a year to grow them, spend time with them, and then gift them their adulthood with their skulls and horns to wander Unerica as Weldir’s unwitting servants.
Each bout of intimacy was hotter and wilder than the last.
She’d come to long for those moments. For lust to swirl inside her like a destructive cyclone, abrading her down to her very core and leaving behind a trembling, wet woman floating in ethereal darkness.
Even now, it had her skin flaring with heat, and the pool between her thighs dampened further.
She wanted to claw into his chalky body or his physical barriers with need, bliss, and mind-bending euphoria. Her nipples pebbled under her thick robes, scraping against the material, but they wanted to graze against whatever solid patches of his torso he could manage with his lacking form. Her thighs pleaded for the same pleasurable torture around his narrow hips.
Oh, but there had been wormy tendrils there too. They clung to her breasts, pinching her nipples as they circled, or glided between her sensitive thighs and the lips of her throbbing folds. Minor additions that didn’t last long when he finally made his way inside her and broke Lindiwe apart little by little until she became a needy mess – or a satisfied puddle – for him.
Despite her physical reaction, her tone was heavy with disappointment. “If that’s what you want.”
“You can always return, as you have before.”
I know that, but... my time here is ending. I’m almost done reading all of their texts, so why return for those few when I can just do so now? Especially if I stay away for a few years and...Although it was doubtful the Anzúli would let this stronghold and its close neighbour fall, it still worried her.Their magic isn’t as strong as it started out.
Generations had already passed. The Anzúli had been on Earth for almost a hundred and fifty years, and many had lost their lives when they first came here. Their numbers dwindledand then flourished as they found lovers within their sector or in others, only to grow stagnant once more.
Many were young. Most of those living in this temple stronghold were under the age of twenty, and over half of those were under the age of thirteen. The adults were spread out between taking care of their children and helping the humans outside the borders of this large city.
It was even harder for those who didn’t have a newly built Demon slaying stronghold attached to them, like this one. The western sector of the Unerica guild was lucky in this regard, but no other temple had such additional protection.
She opened her mouth to respond, but her desk candle flickered in a gust from the door behind her as it opened. She greeted the interrupter of her conversation and thoughts with an inquisitive brow furrow.
“Evening, Lindiwe,” Kyrah muttered, storming into the library and immediately moving along the wall of shelves in a wild search.
“Come to join me, have you?” Lindiwe prodded with a mischievous grin.
The brunette woman paused, turned to Lindiwe, and sneered over her glasses. “You know I would never. You can stay buried beneath these boring pages, and I’ll be right where I belong: not here.”
Ignoring Weldir, who was likely waiting for an answer and watching them, she lowered her translation tool and placed her chin in her hand once more. “Come on, surely you can’t detest readingthatmuch.”
“I wouldn’t say I detest it. The act of reading just isn’t one I find enthralling.”
“Then why are you here?” Waving with her free hand, Lindiwe gestured towards the book in front of her. “I was enjoying myself before you came stomping in here like a trist.”
“A trist! Ha!” Kyrah exclaimed with a false laugh. “How absurd.” Then she narrowed her inhuman lime-green eyes at Lindiwe, all three of them. Her pursed lips softened, only for her to chew the bottom one and reveal the youth in her nineteen-year-old gaze. “I don’t really stomp around like a trist, do I?”
The laugh that burst from Lindiwe was raw and loud, and she bounced in her chair slightly. “You’re asking the wrong person, Kyrah. I’ve never seen any of your creatures.”
Kyrah stamped her foot, and the floor gave a resounding thud beneath her boot. “But you’rehowold?” The young woman threw her hands up. “If you’ve really lived almost two hundred Earth years, surely you’ve been to Anzúla and seen one.”
Lindiwe had stopped hiding her immortality from the Anzúli. She’d also stopped pretending that she was touched by Uxos’ – their great goddess of shadows – magic.
They knew all that she was willing to share, except what she wasn’t –whoher power came from and was forever tied to.
Lindiwe waved to the book in front of her, which had no relation to what she was about to say, but would highlight her point. “I only know what I’ve read. If you picked up a book every once in a while, maybe you could have answered that yourself.”
She’d dived into the world of Anzúla – home realm of Kyrah’s people – through the knowledge of pages. A trist resembled an ogre, if an ogre and a moth had a baby. They were fuzzy, large beings, thick of muscle and gut, with moth-like wings and antennae, and an oddly human face. Yet, despite their nine-foot height and heavy frames, they could be quite agile in flight.
Delicate in the sky, loud on the ground.
