He hadn't even liked Wanda going on raids while inside Melanie. Despite the girl being strong enough to survive a chase from a Seeker, raising Jamie and holding her own with Jared, the soul sharing her body just wasn't supposed to do things like that. Wanda was best suited for telling stories, for gardening, for all things gentle and almost maternal as she was.
In her second body, the little petite blonde that matched the beauty of his Soul, it only became worse. Each bruise, smudge of dirt on top of scraped skin that marred the pale flesh, was like dripping india ink, red wine and chocolate sauce onto vibrant silver. Each drip staining and covering the iridescence, staining it a more human color.
He worried that maybe forcing her to stay with him would bring her down to the same level as himself. He, who she said could have been a soul, but was still tainted by being an overly jealous, possessive human.
But as she panted, her tiny frame straining from harvesting the garden, Ian remembered that even little fragile flowers have supports built inside themselves, keeping harsh conditions from tearing them apart.