The still-smoking seven hills that had once held one of the cradles of human civilization slowly disappeared from view as Kain’s jet put distance between them and what would undoubtedly prove to be the biggest disaster in demon history. Not that Kesh had it in him to care about the fallout. Not now. Not yet.
“Okay, all done.” The golden glow around Selma’s hands faded as she pulled back from Georgia’s wrists, gentleness in her eyes as she looked her over.
“Thank you. The pain is gone. This… magic we have, how does it work? How do you control it like this?” Georgia asked, her focus more on the other woman than her freshly healed skin.
“The scars? Will they linger?” Kesh cut in, pulling her onto his lap now that he could do so without causing her more pain. His thumb grazed the pink line around her throat. A fresh wave of self-loathing and shame washed through him. His fault. Her skin was marred because of his failings.
“I don’t know. I’m not a doctor, Kesh,” Selma said, her voice laced with overbearing patience. “This is what my magic could manage. Anything more than this might need divine magic. Or, hell, plastic surgery might do the trick.”
The thought of some arrogant human taking a scalpel to wrists and neck, let alone a god putting hands on her, made an involuntary snarl rip from his throat and his muscles constrict tighter around her body as instincts to protect her with his own flesh kicked into highest gear.
“Ugh, Kesh!” Georgia’s protest came as a muffled whine against his chest; slender hands pushed at his biceps in protest. He didn’t ease his grip—couldn’t. Not while shame and regret and fury pounded in his temples and poisoned his veins.
“Kesh. She needs to breathe.” Selma’s sardonic tone belied any seriousness to her words, but they speared through him with urgency, nonetheless. He loosened his arms just enough that Georgia managed to pop her head up, hair mushed from his embrace.
“Kesh. I’m fine,” she said, blue eyes capturing his. They were patient and tender and, in their depths, understanding. She knew the shame he felt, understood it because she was burdened with empathy so deep she was incapable of withholding forgiveness for his cowardice.
“My heart,” he whispered, face twisting with pain as he pressed his forehead to hers, desperate for the connection she should deny him, but never would. His fingers trembled against her throat, brushing the scar again.
“Shh.” She raised her hand to cup his cheek, soft and tender still. So at odds with the raw power she’d unleashed to save him. “These scars aren’t a memory of enslavement—they’re a reminder of breaking free. That I’m not helpless. Because of you.”
“I should never have doubted your strength,” he murmured, lips finding her cheek, her jaw. “From the moment I saw you, you’ve commanded every part of me. Your ability to care for everyone, even the demon who had to lie to himself to pretend he still had any say over his own heart… It was never a weakness. I will never let anyone tell you otherwise again.” Nor would anyone take advantage of her kind heart again. A hot spike of vengefulness rushed through his chest at the thought of the person responsible for his female’s cowed demeanor. Her wretched mother.
Once he’d found Mallorn and made him pay for his betrayal, he’d relish turning his attention to the woman who’d broken down her own daughter’s sense of self so she could be a better servant.
His body hardened at the thought of peeling the cunt’s skin off in slow, even strips. Georgia inhaled sharply in response to his erection rising beneath her and pulled her head back to glare at him, cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “Whatever you’re thinking about right now—stop it.”
He would never tell her, of course. She was too gentle, too prone to giving second- and third- and one-hundredth chances. The vengeance he’d extract on her behalf would only horrify her, make her plead for mercy for someone who, by all the stars in the sky, did not deserve another drop of her empathy.
“I’m simply thinking about how well I’m going to take care of you. All of you,” he murmured, nudging at her jaw with his nose to coax her into baring the sensitive spot at the side of her neck.
“You almost died less than two hours ago!” she growled, shoving at his chest with absolutely no result.
“I’m fine. But if you insist on coddling me, you could always let me feed on your energy, hmm?”
“For fuck’s sake.” Georgia planted both palms on Kesh’s face and pushed again. This time, he let her put a few inches of distance between them, if only to better enjoy the deepening pink in her cheeks. “We’re in a confined space with your brother and sister-in-law, the whole of Rome got turned to ash from your fight with the European royals, and I turn out to have magical powers and somehow summoned a powerful stone that has everyone fidgeting. I think we have more important things to focus on right now!”
Kesh’s expression sobered as he took in her irate expression. She didn’t know. She thought the ancient city had been blown off the map by his battle with the lords. She didn’t realize…
Gently, he closed both hands over hers and guided them to his cheeks. Her glare softened, her thumbs rubbing lightly over his cheekbones, as if the light he brought out of her couldn’t be contained by a scowl for more than a few seconds. The same light that, in her desperation to save him, had summoned the Stone of Power imprinted to her, and turned an entire city to dust.
Silently, as she looked up at him with a tenderness he still struggled to comprehend, he swore to himself that she would never learn the truth. The cost to her soft, human heart would be too much for her to bear. Because, while she could forgive him, he knew her conscience would never let her absolve herself. Initial reports from Kain’s men suggested a large proportion of the human population had survived the blast, even as their homes had not, but there were still casualties. Many casualties.
No. He would carry that burden for her.
“Speaking of the events in Rome,” Kain broke in. When Kesh glanced at him, he’d pulled Selma into his lap, his hand resting on her hip to anchor her to his body, but his eyes were on Kesh. “There are many urgent matters for us to discuss. First and foremost how we navigate the containment with the humans. The local lords are working several angles to control the narrative, but we have to acknowledge the very real risk that we won’t be able to hide our existence after today.
“Add to that the precarious political position we find ourselves in, the urgent need to unite the kingdom across the Atlantic, the unknown factor of the gods’ plans, our father’s betrayal… and the yet un-claimed Pure Breeder our lords had hoped to court…”
White-seething fury slammed shut over Kesh’s mind. His arms clenched Georgia tight to his body without conscious thought—but the rage-fueled snarl that ripped from his throat was entirely deliberate. “If you think I’m going to let anyone court my female?—”
Kain raised a hand, interrupting him. “Of course not. I am neither blind, nor an idiot. But if we want to avoid further complications or challenges to your right to her, I will suggest that we take care of the… formalities… before we land.”
“Formalities?” Georgia’s voice was once again muffled by his chest.
“Kesh. Oxygen,” Selma admonished.
Kesh gave her a half-hearted glare before he eased his grip on Georgia’s body. Her head popped back up again.
