14
June 5, 720 AD
“You bastard!”
Entering his war tent, Thorn froze as he heard Brigid’s furious tone. It was nothing compared to the slap she delivered to him as soon as she closed the distance between them.
The demon in him rose up, demanding her blood for the assault. But he tamped it down for one reason only.
He deserved it.
Her dark eyes flashed as she glared at him with the fury of her entire Celtic pantheon. Her breathing ragged, she struggled to control herself.
He licked at the blood on his lips from her blow. “I take it that you’re upset with me, love?”
“Don’t you even,” she snarled in warning as she walked a circle around him, dragging her heavy brocade skirts in her tightly clenched fists.
Thorn arched a brow, still stunned that she was in his tent in the middle of the war that was raging outside. More than that … “I thought you swore that you’d never breathe the same air as I again.” That was the polite version of her words, at any rate.
Two months ago, after she’d found out who and what he really was, and who he was related to, she’d broken his heart, kicked him from her bed, and banished him from the only happiness he’d ever really known.
“I’m pregnant!”
Thorn felt the color drain from his face as those words hit him even harder than she had. “What?”
“You heard me well enough!”
For one incredibly stupid heartbeat, he almost asked who the father was, but her fury answered that. It was obviously his issue she carried.
Joy tore through him at the prospect.
Never once since the day he learned who his real father was had he considered the possibility of fatherhood.
But that happiness was cut short the moment she spoke again. “You did this on purpose! What? Do you plan to offer him to your father as a gift?”
Was she serious? Why would she even think that?
He gaped at her insinuation. “You don’t honestly believe that, do you?”
“You’re a demon. What else am I to believe? All you’ve ever wanted was to get my father’s shield. What better way to get it than to give me a child who can claim it?”
Wholly untrue. He’d never even contemplated that. But they’d already had this argument about Thorn wanting an enchanted shield he had no interest in. She refused to see him as anything more than his father’s tool.
And that was not why he’d seduced her.
There for a time, in her precious arms, he’d almost been normal. He’d been in love and happy.
Too bad it wasn’t reciprocal.
He wiped at his swelling lips. “It wasn’t the whole reason. You are quite stunning when you’re not slapping me.”
She glared at him.
Thorn braced himself as he considered the implication of what they’d done. “So what are you planning to do with the baby?”
“I wanted it ripped from my womb the moment I learned of it, but I’ve been told that it would kill me in the process. With it being of conceived of your mixed blood, I have to deliver it.”
Those words bit him to the core of his soul. Just once, he’d give anything to be something more than the despised progeny of his father. “The babe will only be a quarter demon.” And that was only thanks to Paimon who’d mixed a part of his DNA with Noir’s when he’d carried out his orders.
