Chapter 14

Every time Linh made headway towards the land's edge, the Duskwalker drifted her away from it against her will.

After what felt like an eternity, Linh considered just letting herself drown. She stopped moving – her arms and legs hanging while he held her up – and submerged her face. Put me out of my misery. She blew bubbles.

A chuckle sounded, and she lifted her head to glare at him.

"Don't laugh at me. I'm tired and cold. I'm probably going to get sick after this." She rudely pointed at his face. "If I do, your healing magic better fix me, or you'll regret it."

Nathair rolled his head, but did bring her to his body to hold her. He swam towards the rocky bank and placed her on it.

"Land!" she exclaimed.

She bolted straight for the fire, threw wood on it, and put her frozen fingers out to the subtle heat. She shivered, her teeth chattering when the cold air wrapped around her wet form. When Nathair approached, she threw her head to the side.

"I'm not talking to you until my clothes dry."

He snickered. Snickered!

Nathair lowered himself, curled around her back, and brushed his hand over the top of her head. He did it repeatedly, as if trying to soothe her.

She hated how nice it felt, and slapped his hand away with both her own. When she lowered them back to the fire, huddling for its warmth, he gently patted her again.

"I told you, I'm not talking to you until my clothes dry. Go away."

He opened and closed his maw mockingly, shaking his head around. She reciprocated by poking her tongue out at him. Like the bully he was, he retaliated, pretending to poke the tip of her nose with a claw. Except he retracted it, then bopped her with the end of his forefinger instead.

Linh gasped and grabbed his hand. Only the one finger was clawless, and she inspected it with wide eyes. "You can sheath your claws? I didn't know that."

As if to demonstrate, the rest of his claws pulled back, showing he had complete control of them.

"Why didn't you show me before?" she asked, turning her gaze up to him. Nathair lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

She guessed he'd never needed to reveal this ability until now.

Then she remembered something and shoved his hand away. I forgot I'm not speaking to him. Her gaze drifted to the lake. I guess it is a little relieving that I could probably save myself now. A small smile tried to creep onto her features, but she refused to give Nathair the satisfaction of her relief.

Her attention grew focused on the way he'd returned to patting her head. She noticed the distinct difference of how it felt now that his claws were sheathed.

She nipped at her bottom lip. I didn't know he could do that. Honestly, part of her worries of him touching her anywhere delicate was if he tried to shove a claw inside her. No woman wanted their insides sliced.

His fingers are so thick.They appeared nimble, the grey tips darker. She thought just one might be very filling if he were to sink it inside her pussy.

Shaking her head, she cleared her mind of any more potentially perverse thoughts. Her stomach grumbled, as if swimming had worn her out.

"If you want to make it up to me for throwing me into cold water," she started, lifting her chin with a forced pout, "then you can prepare my dinner for me. I'm really hungry now."

Nathair did just that. He descaled the fish, gutted it, and then staked it over the fire. She was almost dry by the time it was ready. Nathair placed it on a silver plate – he'd been giving her all sorts of utensils from his special hoard – and she turned her back to the flames as she ate to remove the last of the dampness from her clothing.

He'd given her a metal cup a few days ago, and she sipped the wine to wash down the taste.

When she was halfway through the fish, she placed it down on the plate. He lifted it back into her hands and she turned a glare up at him; she was tired of having this argument with him.

She kept asking him to catch smaller, more manageable meals, and instead they got bigger each time. He probably thought she was thin, but she was a perfectly acceptable weight. Thin, but soft enough to give her generous womanly curves. He probably didn't realise he was just so big that everything was tiny compared to him.

Still, for his benefit only, and because he was more stubborn than a mule, she attempted to eat a little more.

As she did, she darted her gaze to him often. Now that she was warm again, she felt more inclined to be nicer.

"Thank you, by the way," she muttered. "For teaching me how to swim, and just... for everything."

His orbs shifted to bright yellow, and Linh fidgeted. Her cheeks heated, suddenly self-conscious. She placed the plate down and ventured over to the water to wash her hands – thankfully without falling in like she did two nights ago.

Like then, the area was dark. Dusk was likely falling on the world, and she couldn't wait until the longer, summery days arrived.

She turned to find Nathair preparing one of the torches for her. She would have been nervous about what that meant if she hadn't grown accustomed to it over the past few days. It probably meant something significant to him that they spent most evenings in his nest.

The proximity always brought on a wave of bashful stomach flips.

Linh had tried to sleep near the fire the night he'd tried to take her from his home, but he'd refused. No matter how many times she attempted to crawl out of it, he kept placing her in the middle of the large recess until she caved.

The first night, she slept inside it alone, as if he understood she was unnerved about being in a vulnerable state after what happened. The second night, he placed only his tail in. The third, he made her sit in it with him long before it was time to sleep, and started to teach her Nathair speak.

It appeared he wanted to spend the evening in it again.

I've kind of noticed that he seems rather content to do... nothing. Other than taking her to the beach, he didn't move around much. He often just sat there watching her.

He's laid-back and aloof.It's like nothing bothers him. Although she knew that wasn't true. I kind of find his ability to do that really cool. She wished she could be like that; her ability to fake it wasn't very good.

Linh approached when he shoved the bottom of the torch into the wall so it would stick out and give her light. Like she knew he would, he carefully lifted her into the nest before slipping inside it himself.

Seated upright with his back against the wall, he rested his arms inside. His tail was bundled to the left, as if he wanted to give her as much room as possible while forcing her to sit on a loop of it. She thought from where a human would have had knees, he was free and straight all the way up to his head.

He continued her lessons on Nathair speak, and she tried to remember each sign he taught her to the best of her ability. It would take time. To learn a whole new language in a short span was impossible. She hoped he understood that if she made mistakes in the future, it wasn't done out of disinterest.

They were not at the point in which they could have complex conversations.

"It feels weird having to learn how to sign all over again when I already know how," Linh said with a small smile, repeating his version of day and night. "I never considered people from different places or cultures would have different ways of doing it. Some of them seem to be universal, so I may be able to remember them better."

Nathair paused to listen. He always listened, so Linh continued speaking, wanting some rest from her full day of learning.

She leaned her back against his waist and crossed her legs to make herself comfortable. "My dad is the mayor of my village. My mum works as a herbologist, apothecary, and doctor for our village. They are a perfect team; both want to support our people in different ways that matter."

A small smile lifted into her features as she thought of them, all the while trying to ignore the cold ache that swirled around her heart.

"My dad made me learn from a young age. He said it was important that I be able to communicate with everyone freely. As his daughter, I had to be respectful towards everyone." She paused, and with a low voice, added, "I ended up having to sign for him after the leader of the bandits came and broke both his hands for trying to fight back. He couldn't move his fingers for weeks."

She glanced at Nathair from the corner of her eye and lowered her head when she took in the blue of his orbs. Was it pity they conveyed? Sadness for her? Who knew, but looking upon them only twisted her heart.

She didn't want to talk about it anymore.

"I miss my parents a lot," she admitted, looking up at the torch so she could stare at its flames. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make the conversation sad."

The growl that thundered from him immediately had the tiny hairs all over her body standing on end. Goosebumps prickled over her flesh for the most titillating reason, and she clenched her thighs together.

Linh turned and folded her arms on his flat torso. To distract him, she poked next to his navel.

"You have a belly button. Does that mean you were born?" she asked to distract him and, more importantly, herself.

He made a fist and dipped it forward and back like one would nod, stating yes.

"So you have parents. Are they nice?" She gave him a smile, only for it to die when he shrugged. "How long ago were you born?"

He touched his elbow with two fingers and then made them leap to his wrist. She winced, since he hadn't taught her this yet. He did it again, and again, meaning he wanted her to figure it out.

"Jump?"

He shook his fist side to side to state no.

"Is it close to that?"

He nodded his fist, and she watched him do it again.

"Over?"

He nodded his fist, then put up three fingers and made two zeroes.

She slapped his stomach when she pushed up on straightened arms. "Are you saying you're over three hundred years old?"

He chuckled as he nodded his head this time.

"Oh my gosh. You're ancient!"

That gives a whole new meaning to the term cradle snatcher, she thought, rubbing her hand over the top of her head in disbelief.

"Have... have you been alone this entire time?" she asked, her voice breaking an octave. Just the idea of Nathair being all by himself for so long was deeply saddening.

He sighed and plonked his head back, tilting his skull to the ceiling. He wouldn't answer – or couldn't.

At least he didn't say yes. She held onto that.

She ran her fingertips over her lips in thought. If not no, then...

"Does that mean you kept other captive women here?" she teased. She wiggled her eyebrows up and down, while being completely uncertain of what answer would actually please her.

Once more, he let out a delicious growl – one that was utterly meaningless as her protector. She gave him a coy grin when he faced her and shook his head. Then, as if he was upset she'd insinuated otherwise, he curled his arm around her midsection and yanked her until she was seated on his pelvis.

She had a funny feeling that if she tried to get off him, he'd get annoyed. She assessed whether she was uncomfortable or not, especially since it probably meant something to him. Since his penis was hidden away, and the area was flat, she found she didn't mind. They'd already rested together, and had hugged far closer than this.

Okay. No other women... So that means I'm the first? She wanted to be giddy over that, but it just brought on more questions.

Does that mean he's never been... touched before? Or did he have his own kind to mess with? He figured out what happened to me. He seems to be very knowledgeable about the world.

Linh knew under all that silence he was a very intelligent person. He had to be. He reacted with calculated thought. He was hesitant when he needed to be, forceful when required, and had already shown he knew two languages – English to understand her, and sign language to speak. He could count, write, could hunt, prepare food, and already knew when to give her privacy and space.

Sure, there were times he acted a little more... animalistic, but she figured that was because he was a Duskwalker.

Maybe it's from all the human memories he has? The voices of different people were a dead giveaway.

Linh was smart, or at least tried to be. She didn't have many survival skills, but she had a keen eye and usually thought logically when she wasn't too busy screaming.

She had observed the dangerous being before her with an analytical eye because learning about him made her safer. She just... chose to disregard the constant danger she was in; she'd discovered there were worse things than dying.

Before she could open her mouth to ask another question, she paused when she noticed his orbs were white. Her companion had turned to stone, as if all his muscles had locked up.

He'd slipped into a trance.

"Ugh, rude," she playfully blurted out. "We were talking."

She knew it wasn't his fault and didn't blame him for spacing out. She also doubted he heard her or would remember it – she hoped.

She considered sliding off now, but decided against it. She was comfortable, and she didn't think he'd mind, considering he put her here in the first place.

I feel so bad for him, she thought, turning so her left leg was bent on top of him. She stared at the Duskwalker before her. I can tell he hates this.

Sometimes he reacted to the trances. He'd whimper or violently twitch. He hadn't reacted so violently again after the day on the beach where he'd lost his ever-loving shit, but he sometimes scratched at himself. Most of the time, though, he just froze up.

Sometimes he'd be out of it for a few minutes, other times for hours. It was always random, and she didn't know if anything in particular set him off. There were even times she'd seen his orbs be white, but he acted like normal except for breathing heavily – like he was still aware while the memories bothered him.

I wish I could help.

She drew her gaze away from his white skull until it landed on his gills. She wanted to touch them and find out if they were as soft as they appeared, or if his chest muscles were as firm as they looked. When they cuddled, she occasionally felt the dense plane of his stomach, and the way his tail muscles clenched in waves to help him move around.

His black scales looked like segments of glossy ink in muted light, dancing across his chest, his arms, and almost every inch of his body except around his navel. The scales around it were smaller, and more like a dark grey. That same grey matched the underside of his soft but thick hands, and his gills.

The white of his ribs was pronounced, and they looked unusually clean. They weren't entirely porous, like real bone, which made them only appear stronger and unbreakable. She eyed the light-grey fin frills going down his sides. Linh knew the location of his pelvis due to the half-sunken hip bones protruding out of his flesh.

She nibbled her lip, since she was sitting between both of them.

He really is spectacular. Hard and soft all over. Each scale was smooth on its own, the quantity of them making him bumpy, but he was rough due to his external bones. A mixture of different black, grey, and white tones, only to sometimes be dazzlingly splashed with rainbows.

She bit the inside of her cheek. I really want to touch him.

Linh placed her hands against his muscled abdomen to gauge their size difference. Even though his waist was narrow, her pinkies didn't even reach the sides of him.

Her touch was innocent, but the urge to make it less so tingled her fingertips. Just a little bit? In ways she didn't think she'd mind if he touched her?

Convincing herself, the pads of her fingers dug into hard muscles, just as her thumbs brushed up the sides of his navel. With how dense his abdomen muscles were, she didn't think they would squish as much as they did. She thumbed the dipping line in the centre of his abdomen, while her eyes drifted over the deep vee lines of his groin, admiring the way he was formed.

Bragg was strong. He was a big man with lots of muscles. She thought she'd hate that quality in men after him. Whenever she imagined her future partner, it'd always been someone... small. Someone thin, who looked more like a bookkeeper, and maybe the same height as her, so he didn't feel imposing?

Nathair was the utter opposite of both those things.

He was muscled, he was gigantic, and she really, really wanted to knead his big chest.

She didn't, though, because she would be absolutely horrified if he did that to her while she was unaware. Or even aware.

However, she did caress the bottom rib protruding from his flesh, only to lift her hand up to lightly brush her fingers down the gills going down the right side of his neck. She didn't play with them, as she didn't know if it would feel bad – like someone tickling her lungs. She cupped down the length of his jaw, wanting to lean closer and give it a soft kiss.

Scooting herself up his torso more, she ran her hand over his round shoulder joint before going down his arm. A grin spread across her lips, flashing her teeth, as she squeezed his biceps. Then she found a strange, raised line, and petted it until she realised it was a thick vein.

She moved down his arm and grabbed his big hand so she could lift it to his stomach. Inspecting the fish fins that lay flat against his forearm, she pulled on the spike near his elbow until she flared his fin open.

Oh wow. I didn't know these were so big. The fin splayed in the middle to almost a foot!

She noted the black segments of cartilage, and how the light-grey flesh wasn't as see-through. His fingers twitched when she played with the fin, so she left it be and it snapped closed.

With both hands, she lifted his until it was near her face. She tapped the end of a black, glossy claw. How do these sheath? She pushed on it, and nothing happened. His fingers are so thick and long.

Her pussy clenched at what one would feel like inside her, and how it would feel if two stretched her. Slickness pooled at her entrance, as she thought about wanting to find out.

She pressed the pads of her thumbs against his fingertips, just so she could take in how soft they were. He's aquatic, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised he doesn't have callouses. She kind of liked that, as she didn't want to be abraded or for his touch to feel rough and sandpapery.

Her skin was soft – the evidence of a life that had been easy.

Linh curled his hand forward to look at his protruding knuckle bones. Only to turn it on its side moments later.

She placed his big, soft, and lukewarm palm against the side of her face and leaned into it.

I don't know what you want from me, but I know you desire me. And by the subtle warmed pulsing she felt in the core of her pussy, she desired him too.

She didn't know why. Was it because she adored how safe he made her feel? Not just from the outside world, but here, in this space, where they were alone but she didn't have to fear his presence. She didn't want her desire to be born from a place of desperation to ease her trauma, or a way to heal from it, but because he was so generous, altruistic, and sympathetic.

Because he was handsome, in all his weird, monstrous glory.

"I really want you to touch me, Nathair," she whispered quietly, unsure if it was so he couldn't hear, or in hopes that he might so he could take control for her.

I want him to erase what happened, so the only hands I remember are his, and the only skin I feel the lingering of is his scales. She wanted his feminine scent to flood her mind, and his growls to replace the disgusting sounds that echoed in her ears.

For a long while, Linh just sat there holding his palm across the entirety of her face. She brushed her skin back and forth against him, remembering the many times he'd caressed her cheek, her jaw, or just held it silently. She clung to him, to those memories, and feeling him doing it now made her so content she panted. She rubbed her lips against his palm, not kissing him, but caressing him with them.

Even his claws – his inhuman, semi-sharp claws – tickling over her skin had her stomach fluttering. The longer they innocently stayed there, the more her nipples hardened against her undershirt. Her pulse sped up in desire, but also pounded deeply with adoration.

She eventually let him go so she could lay her head against his chest. Her eyes closed when she heard his strong heartbeat.

It was fast, almost like it was semi-panicked.

She took comfort in it. It sounds so nice. The heart of a Duskwalker was surprisingly sincere.

Linh would like to scoop it from his chest and curl her body around it protectively. She'd like to shield it from the memories that bothered him, and the anxiety that currently had it sprinting. To keep it safe and nurture it in the exact same way Nathair did to her within the wraps of his lengthy serpent tail.

I've only been with you for a week, and I already care about you so deeply.