Page 30 of A Soul to Embrace

Zylah chittered in argument, despite understanding a large majority of what he’d said.

She hated that she couldn’t bend him to her will when he truly didn’t wish to do something. She’d learned that Jabez was remaining with her of his own volition, and not because she demanded it. He’d shown that he was truly in control of his actions, where he was, and where they went.

Zylah was faster than him, but he was more agile and had a better ability at reading what she’d do. It was like he saw her next five steps before she did.

So, if she handled him by grabbing his arm or horn, and he let her drag him around, then he didn’t care. He was fine with her direction when she didn’t know how to voice her wants. He accepted it.

When he refused, she was unable to grasp him, no matter how she tried.

She didn’t know why he remained with her, and she also didn’t care. He was staying becausehewanted to; it alleviated the weight of her guilt.

So, when he put forth his demand about their relocation that he sprung on an unsuspecting Zylah, who happily followed him, she conceded. She wanted to keep him pleased in hopes that he would continue to stay at her side willingly.

She enjoyed his scent, his mostly calm presence, his deep, rumbly voice. She’d even begun to appreciate his appearance, especially his ears – she was learning they were rather expressive. They were more honest than his voice and face.

They seemed to reflect an uncertainty she couldn’t see in his constant bone-chilling stare.

He appeared cold and cruel, like winter. Yet he also came across as warm when he was patient with her, occasionally chuckling until even the ice in his gaze thawed into something much nicer.

They were rare, those moments, but she didn’t mind either side of him. Now that she was beginning to understand his words, his growls had softened, as if he’d only been doing them to speak inherlanguage.

Since she hadn’t responded beyond making wordless noises, Jabez once more sighed. After using his fangs to cut the black string attached to the needle, he spun to face her.

“I know this is hard, Zylah. Change is never easy, but we can’t go back to your burrow.”

“Okay,” Zylah conceded, as her shoulders dropped. “We stay.”

His red eyes narrowed before gentling. “Alright. I have something for you.” He stood and presented the material in his hands to her. “Time for you to wear clothing.”

She took it from him without a shred of understanding as to the significance of the material. But she was happy he’d gifted her something, and she sniffed it when she noted his luscious scent all over it.

When they’d passed the village much earlier in the day, Jabez had disappeared inside it. Zylah had been thankful he hadn’t intended on making her cause destruction within it. He’d returned shortly with a second bag filled with varying scents, and the dark-grey cloth folded over the top of it.

He’d already started eating from the contents of the satchel.

When they’d found this cave, and evicted its occupants in the dark of night, he’d shown her what else he’d obtained. An empty notebook for her to use for further studying. A reading book, which he’d added to the two he’d apparently already had – not that she’d seen them before. Then, he’d shown her a dictionary, a small pile of food and, lastly, the material.

Since then, until long after the sun rose once more, he’d been busy with the cloth. Zylah believed their time together would have been different if she hadn’t been sulking for hours. They’d argued about her wanting to go home.

Her displeasure dissipated with the light weight of her gift.

As if he could tell she didn’t know what to do with it, he gestured for her to come closer and give it back. He knelt while directing her to stand in the middle of the loop of fabric, and he pulled it up her body.

“It’s a dress,” he stated, as he threaded her arms through the thin shoulder straps.

Then he stepped back as always, putting space between them.

Zylah touched the silky material and chittered happily. She liked it, and seeing as he also wore clothing, it meant she didn’t feel uneasy about it. Now that she thought deeper on it, she preferred this; everyone else was clothed, so she should be as well.

“Shit,” he rasped out, lifting a hand to cover his mouth and dart his eyes to the side. “I think it may be too short.”

The length of it came to the tops of her thighs. When she turned her head, she noticed that her tail was barely covered. The moment she twisted her body or lifted her arms, the bottom of the dress slipped between her back and upward-pointing tail tuft.

“I like it,” Zylah stated, more comfortable with her tail exposed. Covering it felt odd on her fur, and she itched at hertorso when she realised there, too, felt odd. “It is... good? What is better than good?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Pretty, I guess? I doubt you mean something strong, like beautiful or majestic.” Then he shook his head while scratching at the side of his neck. “But even that’s a stretch. I don’t know how to sew, so everything I’m doing is shitty in comparison to a proper seamstress. If I took you to our village...”

He paused, as if his rambling reminded him of something harsh. His features turned ashen, like they did when he was unwell, before they hardened into something deeper.

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