“Father,” Kesh interjected. He squeezed Selma’s shoulder comfortingly, trying to draw her into his own protective aura, but there was no escaping those terrifying eyes as long as Kirigan chose to keep them locked on hers.
“Did he force himself on you, Breeder? Is that how it happened?”
The feeling of Marathin’s hands on her body, ripping at her clothes and touching her as if he had every right to, made its way to the forefront of her mind, and she couldn’t repress the shudder it caused, nor the sense of dread.
She stared up at the demon in front of her, shaking her head in denial, but his gaze was alight with whatever it was that normally lurked just beneath the surface. The twisting emotion in her gut was no longer fear—it was pure terror, too strong to rationalize away with the fact that Kesh was here to protect her, or that as mad as Kain’s father was, he wouldn’t want to intentionally harm her. Instead her instincts screamed of danger, and she grasped at the protective body behind her, desperate to escape.
“That’s enough!” Kesh grabbed her by both shoulders and easily lifted her behind him, squaring up in front of his father. “Get a hold of yourself—you’re terrifying her!”
Selma had a moment’s worth of relief that she was no longer in the enraged demon’s direct line of sight. She wrapped her arms protectively around her midriff to try to gather her composure and quell her racing heart, but it shattered to pieces when Kirigan’s face contorted in a snarl.
In the next second, his hand cracked against Kesh’s jaw, sending her protector flying into the nearest bookshelf. Dark magic shot up around his limbs, pinning him in place.
The small whimper that escaped her lips sounded like it had come from a scared little animal—and it apparently didn’t do anything to dampen Kirigan’s rampage. His face lit up with feral ferociousness when she cowered back against the wall behind her, and he followed her retreat with slow, measured steps.
“Lying little Breeder. So small and soft. You reek of fear—which is why my foolish son is trying to break himself apart to get free and save you. Do you enjoy the power you hold? Is that what happened with Marathin? You made him mad with need, only to kill him when his desire got out of control? Show me what you did to him!”
“I did nothing!” she shrieked.
He snarled again and grabbed her shoulder. “Show me! Now!”
Kirigan dug his fingers into her flesh, not quite firmly enough to cause her pain, but it triggered her panic nonetheless. With a cry she brought both fists up to punch at him, hammering them against his unyielding flesh.
“Let go! Let go of me!”
“Fight me all you want, girl. Unless you do to me what you did to Marathin, I will make you scream. And if you still don’t show me what I want to see, perhaps I will take the baby in your womb.”
Maybe she should have questioned his claim to want to hurt his own grandchild, but in that moment, all she saw was his terrifying, distorted face. His features morphed before her eyes, adding a layer of red and black scales and long, black, coiled horns.
And his eyes… his eyes no longer had any white to them, their emptiness swallowing the last remotely human thing on his face.
Selma screamed.
It had been so long since she was faced with the visual aspect of her lifelong nightmares, and all the years of living in terror crashed back into the present at the sight of the monster who had her in his claws.
She didn’t think—she only reacted. Something warm and powerful rose within her, and she grasped for it in desperation, using its strength to strike at the demon.
Bright, white light rushed from her hand like a current, blasting into Kirigan.
Black and white sparks flew around them as he lifted dark magic around himself at the very last moment, causing the air to vibrate with a high-pitched screech like the sound of a braking train. It didn’t stop the shockwave of the impact from throwing him to the ground.
Selma stood frozen, staring at the man the power within her had tried to destroy—that she had tried to destroy in her terror for her child’s life. His features were once again human, and the zealous fire in his eyes no longer reflected danger so much as absolute awe.
34
Selma
“I knew it!” Kirigan’s voice was raw with emotion. “The light! So pure. I knew it was inside of them! Kesh, did you see? That is their call—that is what drives us mad!”
By the bookshelf, Kesh slowly got to his feet, his bindings gone. He was eyeing her carefully, as if he didn’t know if she would attack.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not certain her voice would hold. “I didn’t mean to.”
Kirigan got off the floor, his disturbing gaze focused on her. “Marathin was the first time?”
She nodded, confused at his apparent excitement. She’d expected anger. Retribution.
“You are not a weak little girl. You have strength to rival ours.” He was still staring intently at her as if he was trying to see the white light through her eyes. “I always knew it was buried within you, but I could never… And then you come waltzing into my son’s life, bringing us new life, and this.”
