Page 100 of A Soul to Steal

Aleron placed his hand upon Gideon’s scarred abdomen, the evidence of his past death and how horrible it must have been. He knew this pain, had suffered it many times over, but humans were delicate creatures.

Now that Gideon lay unconscious, and his fear scent dissipated, the anxiety choking him released its grip a fraction, allowing him to take in that his bride smelt like the freshest and loveliest spring he’d ever experienced.

He smells like a purple flower I remember, and... patchouli.Gideon smelt like the herb he had shown Aleron in Tenebris, andthe fact his own bride had been the one to teach him its name made his heart swell.

He curled his arms and wings around Gideon, hoping to bring him warmth and security within his embrace. Burying his skull against his glossy hair, he shuddered out a breath.

I will try for you.Aleron squeezed him tighter.You are my bride. I love you, and you chose me.

Gideon had been perfect for him. Playful, smart, forgiving.

No matter what he faced, no matter the obstacles before him, he would reflect back on their time in Tenebris. He would be determined to return to that moment in the clearing, where they had been hidden within his cuddle, laughing and teasing.

He is mine. He chose to come here with me.

That was whathehad to remember.

With short, shallow breaths, Gideon took in the deep aroma of hazelnuts and cedarwood. The familiarity of it lingered in his mind. It reminded him of all the days he’d stop working, and covered in head to toe in cut tree dust, he’d plonk his arse on a fallen trunk around a fire. Hazelnut soup tended to be a favourite among his colleagues, so they always gathered around a hot pot of it – especially in the winter.

Heat surrounded him. It was almost too hot, or perhaps that was due to the splitting headache throbbing behind his eyes. He could barely breathe through the heat, yet he gave a shiver.

I must be coming down with something.Shit, that didn’t bode well. He hated taking a single day off work, since it cut into his pay, and he’d been saving to buy his own home.

His nose wrinkled side to side when something super soft tickled the tip of it. At first, he thought it was a sneeze, or maybe Beau’s unruly chest hair.

That didn’t make sense, considering it didn’t smell like his boyfriend. It also didn’t feel like he was lying against him either.

When his nose twitched again, he thought perhaps he’d just passed out during lunch and one of his colleagues was messing with him. Wouldn’t be the first time Gideon had a mid-afternoon nap, with the aroma of hazelnut soup ensuring he had hungry dreams, and one of the guys woke him by tickling a leaf against his face.

He blinked his eyes open and frowned at the darkness greeting him.

Panic immediately set in. “I can’t see!”

Just as he went to cover his eyes to check if they worked or not, light exploded above him. What that revealed almost had him wishing he’d never woken up.

Gideon shoved at the Demon’s... wait, no,Duskwalker’schest to get away from him. Startled by his sudden movements, the Duskwalker gasped and released him. He flopped to the ground, hissing when his shoulder hit the hard dirt.

Okay, so earlier hadn’t been a horrible dream!

Cringing at the Duskwalker, unable to cope with the fact he’d been cuddling into him, he covered his naked groin. A chilly wind wrapped around him, causing shivers to break out across his warmed skin.

Even though a sharp stick stabbed into his bare rump as he shifted back, nothing could stop him from eyeing those massive wings. He’d seen wings like that before, whooshing and flapping above him, as he fought to free Emerie. The sound of them, the sight of them, would forever be entangled with a profound agony that had struck across his stomach and chest, not just once, but twice.

A shiver sliced through him as he drifted his gaze away, unable to bear looking at them.

He’d thought it’d been a nightmare, a cruel joke of his deepest fears. A twisted heroic dream where he was the knight in shining armour for his sister, who screamed as she was let go to safety and Gideon took her place as the feast sacrifice.

“Gideon,” the Duskwalker called, so utterly careful with his name.

He couldn’t focus on it, not when he cast his gaze down to see the scars marring his torso. They were deep, raised in keloid scarring, and white, as though they’d been carved into his skin years ago.

Did someone heal him somehow?

It was only last night, considering it was now the middle of the day. At least, that’s what he told himself.Did I actually pass out for a few days?

Then who saved him and where were they now? Did the Duskwalker kill his saviour so that he could eat him?

He didn’t realise his hands were shaking in trepidation until he dug his nails into his gut. His eyes crinkled and bowed deeply when he felt so utterly lost.

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