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She was doing a frightful, traumatising thing all on her own, and the weight of that was crushing. More than anything in the world, she wanted to feel the presence of her mother’s warm hand wrapped around her own to help her through this. It was how she’d always imagined it.
“The only cold I have experienced is in your gaze, and your reach for me is as barren and vast as the deserts you once crossed. Yet you throw my lack of attempts at me when you make yourself impossible to court?”
“It’s like you don’t even care! One of our children just died and all you want to talk about is his skull?! I don’t want to see it!”
“I carry them! I hold them, take care of them, give them their identities while you sit here doing nothing. You can’t know what this feels like. I... love them!”
think Lindi is gone. The child she’d been. The inexperienced and unjaded woman. A daughter to parents who were gone. A friend to people who were long dead.
Weldir let out an annoyed, growly huff, not wanting to stop playing with her when he was rather enamoured with the moment. He’d never had this female soft for him before, this pliable, or this close, without her having a wary gaze.
What had turned into mere intrigue had started to twist into obsession. If he wasn’t watching her, he was trying to half-heartedly complete a task to stop himself from doing so. He’d even rifled through the souls waiting for him to consume and only picked those either she or their offspring had delivered. Those that had no Demon taint and missing pieces to them, so he could just receive power and resist the urge to rest as he often did.
