Chapter 8

With a gasp, Linh jerked awake when something lifted her foot. She sat up, her jacket – which she'd been using as a blanket – falling to her legs as she backed away from the Duskwalker.

Pinstripes of sunlight peeked through the cracks of the ceiling, highlighting that it was daytime. The fire was low, but not gone, as if Nathair had thrown more wood onto it at some point.

The smell of brine, fresh and salty, wafted from him. He smells like sea air. Her gaze drifted to the two fish dangling in his right hand as he gently swayed them above her.

"Did you go fishing for me?" she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before double-checking that he'd truly brought her food.

Lowering himself, he dangled the fish closer as if he wanted her to take them. She lifted her hands out and grabbed each one by its tail fin.

"Thank you," she stated, offering him a smile. "Good morning, by the way."

Although he couldn't respond, she preferred talking to him as though he could. And, considering his orbs shifted to that brighter yellow he'd shown her meant joy, she had a funny feeling he appreciated it.

Still discombobulated from waking, Linh held up the meal he'd provided, wondering what she was supposed to do now. She'd gutted fish before, but...

"I have a dagger, but I don't think I trust using it on food I'll be eating." Considering it belonged to Bragg, it likely had human or Demon blood on it, and there was no way in hell she'd be willing to use it to cut food she was about to ingest. "Do you happen to have something sharp I can use? A blade perhaps?"

Turning swiftly, Nathair slithered towards an area she thought was a large, lumpy boulder. Using his hands to walk, as if he'd moved so fast his torso had dipped to the ground, he disappeared into shadow.

Chinking, clattering, and chiming rang out as he dug through unknown artefacts. When he returned, he held some kind of steak knife. She blinked at it, surprised there were barely any rust spots on it. It even reflected some of the pinstripes of sunlight spotting around them.

Just as she went to place a fish on the ground so she could take the blade, Nathair let loose a curt growl. He pointed at the fish and shook his head. Honestly, the fish were heavy, and her arms were starting to hurt from holding them up. She also didn't know what he was trying to say.

Once more, she went to place one down, and he let out another growl. Her back stiffened when his orange orbs flared red.

"I can't grow a third arm," she argued. "I need to put one down to take the knife, Nathair."

Linh felt a little self-conscious every time she stated his name, unsure if she was butchering it. Na-th-ere: that was how she pronounced it. He'd never spoken it, and she just reassured herself since he'd never corrected her.

He carefully reached forward and held the fish for her instead. She smiled at that, considering it wouldn't get dirty with his assistance.

I'm just choosing to ignore where his hands have been.If they were clean. Then again, she doubted her own were sanitary either, but she couldn't and wouldn't complain.

She wrinkled her nose as she tried to remember how to prepare fish. She hadn't eaten it often, as the river trout this far north were seasonal, and many refused risking overnight travel in the mountains to catch them.

With Nathair's help, she was able to gut it, remove its scales and fins, and tie it back together. The entire time, she was aware that the Duskwalker observed her with rapt curiosity. He even mimicked her, watching what she did so he could copy her while using his claws. Since he'd obtained plenty of firewood for her, she staked the fish and then set hers over the campfire that currently had no flames and only burned hot coals. Nathair did the same with the second one.

Even when they were done, he lingered far too close for comfort, with barely any space separating them. She could almost brush her shoulder against a thick wrap of tail, like he was trying to trap her in with his body and the fire.

Gosh, his presence was overbearing.

I thought he'd keep his distance from me, she mused, eyeing him cautiously.

Just as the sunlight faded yesterday, Nathair had slithered off to the other side of this crescent shape of land. She knew he'd stopped and seated himself there, his glowing orange orbs giving away where he went.

She thought he'd been trying to put space between them. Considering she'd kind of forced him to save her multiple times, she figured he was sulking about having her in his home.

She felt bad about that, but she also couldn't regret it. She'd needed someone, anyone, to aid her. She didn't care who or what they were, so long as they were safe.

And despite what he was, Linh was beginning to regard him as safe. Scary, and a little off-putting with his serpent skull and body, but he hadn't hurt her, hadn't tried to do anything cruel towards her.

She needed that. A presence that, although daunting, was secure. It made a pang of tenderness spread throughout her chest as they both watched the fish cooking over the hot coals.

I was scared of falling asleep.Maybe that's why he put space between them – had he been able to sense she was uncomfortable?

She'd slept lightly at first, worried he'd finally make a snack of her or try to touch her while she was seemingly unconscious. Both were scary, both made her stomach tighten.

The fact he didn't come near her meant she'd finally... rested. Although her sleep was fitful and plagued with horrible nightmares, each time she woke up, she'd been alone. No one was holding her when she didn't want them to, and there wasn't an uncomfortable presence lingering.

The fire had been warm, her jacket comforting, and her bag the most amazing pillow – only because it meant she was free.

She blinked her lazy eyes. The area was quiet, and she'd forgotten how much she missed silence. There was no clattering of armour, or the banging of swords in the midst of training. No kicking of dirt from at least a dozen footsteps. Just blissful nature as it ebbed and flowed around her.

Even Nathair's breaths were quiet, although still noticeable due to his colossal size.

Her heart hadn't felt this settled and at peace for so long. Before, it felt like it was always racing, seconds from imploding from stress and anxiety. Her forehead didn't feel so weighted with depression and hopelessness. Her mind, although scarred, didn't pound behind her eyes as she constantly searched for a way to escape.

She took in the long, boring silence, and almost wanted to weep with relief.

"I like your home," Linh stated as she crossed her legs. She gave the fire a small smile, hoping that Nathair could see it and would understand it was because of him. "It's peaceful. I like how quiet it is."

The longer the silence dragged on, the more she wished they could fill it. She wanted to learn more about the person who saved her, yearning to be able to converse with him in the blissful quietness of the environment. She was eager to hear their conversation echo, as opposed to her previous flinching whenever a loud bash or sharp clang in the background put her nerves on high alert and rendered her silent with worry.

He said he lost his voice, so I wonder what it sounds like. Did he magically lose it, or was there something physical at play?

I wonder if I can help him. Or, perhaps, find a way for them to speak, even if it was without his voice. I know sign language. Perhaps I can teach him.

A small rumble came from him, and he lowered himself into his circling tail. It moved, slithering around and scraping loose rocks against the stone ground.

Her cheeks warmed when she realised he was releasing a quiet purr again, but he was so close, his chest right next to her, that it sounded loud. For some reason, her heart stuttered, and she found herself wanting to give more compliments to see if the sound could deepen.

She looked up. "I like how the sun streaks are really pretty. They make everything bright enough for me to see all the vegetation growth on the ceiling and walls." He blocked most of the underwater lake from view, so she brought her gaze to what she could see of it. "The water smells nice, and the trickling feels really good to listen to. It made it easy to fall asleep. You picked a wonderful home, Nathair."

The more she spoke, the deeper his purr became. Then she let out a tiny squeak and lifted her arms when the tip of his tail slipped underneath her crossed knees and circled her backside.

He did nothing more but press his tail around her, but her heart sped up. She wasn't sure if that was in bashful joy like before, or the nervousness of being touched.

Lifting her face, she found herself gazing into bright-yellow orbs and a serpent skull. His hooked ram horns glistened from a streak of light bouncing straight onto one. Both glittered from the fire, reflecting the golden hairline fractures, and she found it remarkably beautiful.

Moments before, his presence had felt imposing. Now, as she stared into the vortex of his glowing orbs, a sense of... calm washed over her. His touch no longer felt wrong or ugly, and instead made her feel lightly cradled and safe.

It helped that his hands never reached for her. They remained inside his wrappings, as if he wanted to hold her in the most informal way to show his appreciation for her compliments.

His orbs flickered with dark green, and she recoiled in surprise, which made him do so as well. His tail slid away, and she averted her gaze when she realised they'd just been staring at each other.

Licking at her lips, unsure as to why she was nervous – but not in a way that twisted her stomach with fear – she tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

"T-thank you again for getting me food." She assumed, since he'd given them to her, that he'd intended for her to eat them. "I've eaten fish, but it's rare – since people need to leave our villages to get them. I'm kind of excited, since I can tell you got them from the sea due to the smell of you. I wonder if they taste different from freshwater fish."

His tail tip slipped back underneath her thighs to circle her backside. She could almost feel his thoughts with the action: ‘She likes the food I caught for her.'His tail gripped even tighter than before.

He likes to be reassured. If it was that easy to keep the Duskwalker content, then Linh would happily supply him with plenty of reassurance.

Once her meal finished cooking, she placed the bottom of the sticks into a crack of rock so they would stay upright to cool. Then she rose to grab more wood.

All the hairs on her body stood on end when the Duskwalker let out a long but quiet growl as she left his side. Her stomach clenched like the strangest butterflies had taken flight. Yet he never stopped her from walking away, allowing her to do what she wanted, even if it displeased him.

She cast him a glance when she placed a log into the fire. Then she sat exactly where she'd been before.

The lingering growl evolved into his purr once more. When his tail curled around her, it slid her just a little closer to him until she was pressed completely against the folded thick limb. His entire body seemed to vibrate with the noise, tingling her senses and somehow softening her muscles.

The bass of it, how content it sounded, had her melting a little. Big and scary things shouldn't purr so easily, and it made him come across as caring in the strangest of ways. It also showed that he liked her presence, and she already surmised she didn't mind his.

The more time she spent with him, the easier it was to lower her guard. And not once, even when she began to eat the food he offered, was that trust violated. He just sat with her.

She did notice that his body would clench and ripple everywhere except for where she was pressed. His muscles against her remained lax, and she ended up letting out a small laugh.

"I thought you wanted to hold me, but you were really just stealing my warmth, weren't you?" It made what he was doing less sweet.

He answered her with a snorted huff. She peeked at him, and he shook his head.

She lifted her chin, while trying to keep her small smile of playfulness from curling her mouth. When she almost lost that war, she covered it with the tips of her fingers and tapped her lips.

"Excuse me, but I do remember a certain snake Duskwalker using me as a living heat source just the other day."

To her surprise, Nathair opened his maw. Then he closed it, only to open again, while he wiggled his head side to side.

"Are you mocking me?" she asked, her eyelids lowering in feigned annoyance.

It almost looked like he was doing what humans do when mocking each other by opening and closing their hands like a mouth! So, she placed down her nearly eaten fish, lifted her hand, and did just that. She flapped it, then opened it in his direction while doing a hiss.

He paused before coming closer to sniff at her fingers. I must admit, the shape is similar to his skull. Her whole arm kind of looked snake-like.

His breath is remarkably warm. She hadn't expected to feel any heat from him, considering he was a snake. She expected him to be cold-blooded, but perhaps he was actually lukewarm-blooded instead. I guess he's not completely reptilian, then.

The heat drained from her horrified face when Nathair closed his maw around her entire hand. He didn't bite down, didn't hurt her, but a shiver of trepidation raced down her spine when his forked tongue licked against her palm.

My hand is in a Duskwalker's mouth! She didn't know whether to scream, grab his tongue and yank on it, or faint. She didn't dare pull away in case she ended up hurting herself.

Thankfully she couldn't feel the fangs she'd seen him sink into one of the bandits. As she trembled, her eyes wide, a chuckle radiated from his throat. He pulled back slowly until her hand popped out of his mouth.

Linh spread her fingers when she discovered copious amounts of saliva. It was clear and clung to itself, and her lips twisted in disgust.

"Yuck!" Just as she was about to wipe her hand clean on her clothes, she leaned forward and swiped it back and forth against his scales. "Here. Take back your drool."

Nathair's chuckles deepened. He pinched her wrist gently and shoved her wet hand against her face.

"Ewww!" she squealed even louder, rolling onto her back as she wiped at her face with the backs of her arms.

Her cheeks flushed in both embarrassment and annoyance, and she rolled to sit up with her features in a tight pout. She opened her mouth to yell her outrage, only to close it.

She began to laugh as well, since he continued to do so while he held the end of his snout like he wished to hide it. I guess it was kind of funny. She also hadn't expected Nathair to have an odd side to him like this.

"I didn't know you could be devious or playful," she teased.

Her heart was racing, but the humour-filled beats were so strong in comparison to the pacing of fear and anxiety she'd been experiencing for months. Each one pounded, but the relief of them touched her all the way to the centre of her being.

I didn't know Duskwalkers could laugh. Despite how disgusting it'd been to have his saliva all over her, and how much she'd been afraid that she was about to lose a hand, she found the aftermath rather charming.

If his voice was anything like the deep bass of the chuckle that came from his throat, she knew it would be soothing. He'd also... picked on her, and she didn't mind a bully – she could be rather conniving herself. She would find a way to get back at him.

It'd been so long since she'd felt anything nice. Tears threatened to bubble in her eyes at just being able to experience even a small amount of joy. The fact that she wanted to cry because she felt that way only brought on a crushing wave of sadness. The realisation why was rather painful.

The tears never came, although they tingled her sinuses. Instead, she focused on just this moment. A strange time where she laughed with a Duskwalker – someone who meant death, and currently felt like salvation.

Who else could say they ever experienced something as absurd as this?

Once his chuckles died, he turned and put his hands out to the flickering flames. His skull tilted in her direction before facing the fire again. He did it repeatedly, his fingers wiggling at the red glow.

Her brows drew together when she understood he was trying to explain something.

She didn't know what that was.

Little human, I have all the warmth I need right here, Nathair thought, as he nudged his head in the direction of the fire.

Her first assumption had been correct. He'd been trying to bring this captivating creature closer. To not just have any warmth, but the feeling of her warmth against him, her softness, her scent, until it touched him and soaked beneath his scales.

In reality, Nathair didn't know what he truly sought. Not from her, nor himself. He guessed he liked her presence, liked her, but he was deeply conflicted.

He desired she leave his home for both their safety, yet the moment she'd gotten up, an angry growl had slipped from him. When he'd gone hunting, he hadn't particularly cared if she truly ate what he caught. If she didn't want it, he'd planned to shrug. Yet, the moment she'd tried to put a single fish down, he wanted to see her eat the food he provided.

He slept on the other side of the cave to keep her safe. Demons may have tried to enter through the cave entrance had he not, that's what he told himself, but... he'd been afraid to keep her close in case he lashed out at her. He'd watched her for a long while, finding himself restless.

He didn't want to hurt her. Not because it'd weigh on his conscience, which it would, but because he rather liked this little creature. Already he could tell he didn't want to snuff out the flames of her life force.

Then Nathair's conscience had receded as fragments forced his consciousness back to freely play. His sight had remained open, white with anxiety, but it was the only way he could rest.

Now that he'd been returned to life, Nathair found himself to be rather volatile. Which was why, when he'd awoken, he'd left the female to sleep while he released some of his pent-up emotions.

To roar beneath the waves and make all the sea creatures scatter. To bash his skull against sand that couldn't hurt him, but felt soothing, like it abraded the inside of his mind. To claw at seaweed until all the frustration flowed out of him like a river.

He felt constricted by her presence. He was constantly wary of himself near her, which put additional strain on his mind and body, as he fought to keep himself lucid and at the forefront more than ever. Yet somehow it seemed... easier.

A fish had eventually glittered nearby, and he'd grown enrapt watching the pretty thing swimming so casually. He'd been envious of its ability to be so carefree. It even swam right up to him while he sat motionless beneath the subtle, rolling waves, its flipper tapping against him as it nibbled at the algae and sea debris he'd cast into the water.

It'd reminded him of the little female in his home – carefree of danger, and foolishly coming near him.

So, he'd darted his hand down and grabbed it for her. An easy prey to catch, just like her, and he intended to feed prey to prey and hope the prettier one smiled for him.

And smile she had, only to giggle at his antics.

Nathair gestured to the fire once more, trying to explain that he'd just wanted to bring her closer earlier. She was annoying, like sand caught under his scales, but he was beginning to like the way she itched.

She speaks to me as if I can respond. He appreciated that, as he wanted to feel like a presence worth speaking to. He could hear, could find a way to answer if he chose to. I like her voice.

Linh was soft-spoken, like she was demure and coy with her words. There was a gentleness every time she spoke, even if he could hear the drawl of sorrow. That dismal tone sounded wrong, as if it shouldn't exist within her melody.

Which made her laughter all the more compelling.

Of course, her compliments had made pride swell in his chest. His home, nest, and territory were important to him. Even if he'd gained much humanity, he was still a Mavka at heart.

When he found his pond, he'd only intended to go for a dip to wet his scales. Lindiwe, the Witch Owl, had sat upon the very boulders Linh had first collapsed against.

The Witch Owl left when he never resurfaced for her, figuring he'd found a place to call his own and accepted it. The only creature he'd resurfaced for was the little female beside him.

Once he'd sunk down and discovered this cavern, he knew it would become his nest. He'd fought for it and chased out the many Demons who lived here. The battle had taken days, as dozens of the foul vermin refused to relent. He'd pushed them all back, day by day, until the entire cave system was his.

All his. His nest, with many pretty things inside it.

For this pretty female to compliment it... he had the consuming desire to bring her near.

She would never know of his feats in acquiring it, but the fact she liked his home made all the pain even more worthwhile. It made him want to keep her here and tuck her away forever. To hiss at anything that dared to take what was his, much like his greedy, territorial need to defend his home.

"You like the fire?" she asked, one side of her face scrunching up in question at his nodding, making her left eye squint. "If you bring more wood, I'm sure I can keep it burning for us, then."

Nathair would have shaken his head, but he didn't want her to think he didn't like the fire; he very much did. Instead, he slid her a little closer again until she was against him.

He wiggled his fingers at the flames.

"I'm really sorry, but I don't understand."

An annoyed growl vibrated from his throat. He didn't know how else to explain it.

Giving up, he leaned back until his humanoid torso rested against his lengthy lower half. He placed his head on the top coil to sulk while staring at her.

She gave him a weak and apologetic smile, and he huffed at her for it.

I wish I could speak to her. He likely would have scared her off his territory that first day, but now he'd like to just be able to converse with her.

Since Nathair couldn't communicate what his ‘Nathair speak' gestures meant, he was aware that they would mean very little to this female. Even if she did know this country's signing language, the language of Nathair would only ever be one of Tenebris – a realm which existed within the plane of a hungry god's stomach.

Perhaps I can teach her? He'd rather she learn his, since he was the one who needed to speak it.

A rather dismal gloom crested over his forehead when he thought that may be a waste of time. She will eventually want to leave. He was starting to feel rather sour about that prospect, but he was merely waiting for her to state her desire to abandon him.

Her enjoyment of his home would be temporary.

Humans didn't like the darkness. She'd soon long for the warmth of the sun, and the comfort of her own people.

Nathair smacked his tongue inside his mouth in irritation. I give her another day. Despite the weird pang in his chest at the thought, he wouldn't get his hopes up.

She was a pretty human, and she'd soon long for the freedom to find a mate. Someone with a face of flesh who had two legs.

Dark orange flared in his sight at the thought of keeping her trapped here against her will. He shook his head, clearing himself of such a horrid idea even if it was swiftly becoming a greedy desire of his.

Which is why you will not put her in your nest. Or place her on his body to rest upon. On the outside of his wrappings should be fine, but if he placed her weight on him... and he liked it, he may want to keep her there and strangle the desire to leave him from her.

He already had the niggling itch to sniff all the places she'd left her peach-and-vanilla scent upon him.

His gaze slipped to the ruby earrings dangling from her lobes, watching them sparkle in the firelight. I will be taking those from her, though. Should she desire to leave, he would consider them a parting gift.

They would remind him of the human he'd saved. If he couldn't add her to his treasures, he'd make sure she left a mark somehow.