Page 49 of Prince of Demons
Another flash of his mother made him shudder in Georgia’s embrace. She’d hugged him, too. Twice. When he was very little. But she’d been the one to cry, then, and there had been no soothing touches and no soft humming, either. And when he’d tried to hug her back, she’d pushed him away.
He clutched harder at the small Breeder in his arms, desperation born from weakness making him ensure she couldn’t push him away, too.
Georgia only hugged him tighter in response.
It took a long while for his roiling emotions to ebb enough for him to soften his grip on her, finally remembering how fragile she was. If he’d bruised her with his need…
She pulled her head back from him as he released her, blue eyes searching his. “Are you okay?”
He nodded once, too emotionally drained to feel the embarrassment and horror he knew should fill him after this pathetic display of vulnerability. The Prince of Demons—crying. In the arms of a Breeder under his care, no less. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She reached up and brushed her fingers over his brow ridge, achingly gently. He didn’t have the strength to pull away. “Tell me what happened just now.”
“I can’t.” His voice came out like a broken whisper—so far from his usual gruffness he barely recognized it.
“You can,” she insisted. Permission, not a demand. “Whatever this is… I’ll listen. You shouldn’t carry something so painful alone.”
Kesh stared into her eyes. There was nothing but gentleness and empathy there. He was the monster who kept her from her family and loved ones, who’d killed in front of her. Had threatened her. And still… this fragile little human offered him only kindness, when she could so easily take his weakness and use it. Stars knew she had every right to.
“You remind me of my mother.” The words left his throat before he could stop them.
“What happened to her?”
His face twisted with pain, but before he could pull back, could protect the most vulnerable parts of himself, she cupped his cheek and the warmth of her spread through his nervous system like the morning sun.
“She killed herself.” He fixed her with his gaze; only her blue eyes locked with his made the words possible to say. “She was… She never took to my father, or her role as a Breeder. She had a human family before she was taken. A husband and an infant daughter. But she was captured. Put to auction. My father, who wanted offspring, purchased her. She hated him. Hated the violations and how the ring made her beg for it.” He paused, his voice softening. “And she hated me and my brother, when we came along.
“My father… I think he tried his best. But his best still had her caged in a life she didn’t want, and she longed for her real family, begged for them… And eventually, she grew desperate enough to threaten.”
“What did she threaten?” Georgia asked softly when he trailed off.
The memory still ached, even if it’d since been buried by pain far more all-encompassing. He exhaled, pushing on. “To kill me and Kain. She told him if he didn’t let her go back to her real family, she would kill his sons. His. Not theirs. Not hers. I hadn’t realized until then that she didn’t see us as her children.”
Georgia blinked. “She… she said that in front of you? How old were you?”
“Five.” He sighed softly. “By that point she’d been my father’s prisoner for ten years. There wasn’t much of her spirit left. I think she tried to love my brother and me. When we were very little. But though we looked human to her, thanks to her blinding mark… there was no hiding the fact that we were my father’s spawn.”
“What happened then? After she threatened your life?”
Her question was as gentle as her touch, but it still cut through his chest like a molten knife. But there was no putting the genie back in the bottle, not now.
“My father did what he had to—a threat to his heirs was the one thing he couldn’t let slide. He twisted her ring. Forced her to submit to ease the torment. Took her until the ring was sated, and she sobbed for mercy. And then he did it again. And again. And again. Until her mind snapped, and she finally became docile.” His voice was devoid of emotion, numbness spreading through his veins to allow him to recall the events that had ruined his family.
The horror he couldn’t feel reflected back at him from Georgia’s blue eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.
“She slit her wrists the second she was left alone,” he continued, a grimace that looked like a smile but wasn’t pulling at his lips. “My dad thought he’d finally tamed her. He thought he’d made her into the mate and mother she was always meant to be. All he did was break the final shreds of her spirit.”
The Breeder stared up at him in silence for several long moments, glistening tears shining from her lashes. Finally, she wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him tight, like she had while he’d cried. Her cheek pressed into his chest, warm and wet against his scales. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, sorrow choking her words.
“You have such a tender heart,” he murmured, staring down at the little female clutching him as if she wanted to absorb the pain from his body into her own. For once, there was no venom in the words, only mild bewilderment. “How… how can you feel anything but revulsion?”
“Humans are complicated that way,” she said, her voice muffled by his chest. “I can be revolted at what your father did, and still ache for the trauma you went through. Demon or not, that’s… No child should see what you did.”
“I am my father’s son. What horrors he has committed, I am more than capable of inflicting as well. You had no misgivings about my nature moments ago.” He didn’t understand the clenching in his gut as he spoke, nor why he bothered. Her embrace felt so good—like a balm, like a beacon of light in the darkness. He didn’t want her to let go, not now, not ever. He needed this, needed her. But if she realized what he truly was, what he was capable of, she wouldn’t hold him like this. She couldn’t.
“You’re a demon; a monster,” she said, and it shouldn’t have hurt—it was a truth that had never concerned him before—but in this vulnerable moment, in Georgia’s soft voice, it stung like a dagger wound. His muscles stiffened, but before he could put distance between them, she continued, “But that doesn’t mean you’re evil, does it?” She peered up at him, searching his eyes for the answer. “You are capable of love and loyalty to your family. You hurt for the loss of your mother. And… you can’t bring yourself to violate me, no matter how often you threaten it. You could never do that to a woman—not with what happened to your mother. Not with how deep that wound still is.”
“I’ve killed plenty of women,” he said, the admission a warning growl, anger at how desperately he wanted her to not think him evil, despite what he knew to be true rumbling through his chest. “Some have died when I lost control of my base desires and fucked them, despite knowing what my magic would do to them. My mother’s death does not make me noble, Georgia.”
