Page 120 of Demon's Mark

Kain knew this was as much as he could expect from the mad demon. It was better than he’d expected, really. Whatever salvation he’d found in Selma’s arms, the birth of another male to his lineage brought nothing but darkness and pain to his father.

Kirigan deserved every ounce of torment for what he’d done to the woman who was incapable of loving her demon spawn. The birth of his grandchild should bring him no happiness, no respite.

And still… in this one moment, all Kain wanted was for the man who’d sired him to see his child and know how utterly, completely perfect he was. How this one moment in time was entirely untainted by the horrors of their past because his son had been born.

“Do you want to see him?”

Silence.

“Dad. I want you to see him.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Kain frowned at his father’s back. His posture was straight, strong, but his hand trembled ever so slightly around the glass.

“I won’t let you hurt them.” It should have sounded like a threat, but it wasn’t. “I promise.”

Kirigan sighed again. “The mother… is she…?”

“Selma’s happy. She loves him. She’s already so bonded to him. Like she has been from the moment she realized he was in her womb. And he… he’s amazing, Dad. Just… absolutely perfect.”

“You were too, when you were born—perfect,” Kirigan said quietly. He finally turned around then, his dark eyes haunted and distant. “It was the first time I experienced love… when I saw you that day. Small. Defenseless. Covered in your mother’s blood.”

A long moment of silence passed between them.

Before Selma, Kain had always believed his father had loved the woman he’d mated. That it’d been a dark, twisted love that’d rendered him incapable of releasing his hold on her even as it destroyed her. After he’d met Selma, Kain had finally understood that what his father had felt couldn’t have been the same kind of all-consuming emotion Kain shared with his mate, because he’d been willing to let her go if it meant she was free. Happy.

He hadn’t realized until now that Kirigan knew too.

“The breeder… Selma… did she sustain injuries?” Kirigan asked.

“No. She’s well. And happy,” Kain repeated.

His father nodded once and downed the rest of his drink. When he put the empty glass down, he drew in a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. “Fine. Introduce me to your son, Kain.”

* * *

Selma was still nursing their newborn when he entered the bedroom. She looked up with a smile that withered some at the edges when Kirigan followed him. Instinctively, she clutched the baby a little closer.

“I’ve brought my father to meet his grandson,” Kain said softly. He crossed the floor to her side, ensuring she knew she and their son were safe. He’d never let anyone harm them, not even his unstable father.

Kirigan’s eyes were glued to the bed. His nostrils flared as he took in the smell of birth, and a tremble worked its way through his body. But when he spoke, his voice was calm—almost detached.

“Congratulations. Your son is indeed a fine specimen. A proud addition to our bloodline. I can sense his strength already—he will grow to be exceptionally powerful within a few years, I’m certain. What will you name him?”

Kain nodded, pride swelling in his chest as he looked down at his son. “Kamaran.”

“A demon name,” Kirigan said. He looked to Selma, his eyes boring into hers. “You accept this, breeder?”

She arched an eyebrow. “He doesn’t really look like a Brian, does he? Yes, I accept it. I think it’s perfect.”

His father’s eyes widened ever-so slightly, and he snapped his gaze to Kain. “You let her see his true form? Are you mad?”

“No one lets me see my child.” Selma’s voice cracked like a whip. “He is mine. I’ve known what he would look like since he was conceived, and I don’t need make-believe or coddling to shield me from that fact. My son’s true face doesn’t scare me, Kirigan. I am the Queen of Demons.”

“So you are, little breeder. So you are.” Kirigan’s expression softened as he returned his focus to her.

Perhaps if Kain hadn’t been staring so proudly at his fierce mate, he would have noticed the unsettling intensity flickering in his father’s eyes, burrowing deep into the fabric of his broken mind.

* * *

END