The Devouring Queen
His smile widened, showing fangs longer than any I’d ever seen.
“Oh, sweet child. You misunderstand.
I’m not asking to be your husband.
I’m telling you I am your father…
and your bridegroom.”
The torch went out.
When it flared back to life, he was directly in front of me, hand around my throat, gentle as a lover.
“The prophecy was never about Cassius killing his mate,” he crooned. “That was the lie we fed the wolves so they would deliver you to me broken and ripe.
The real ritual requires the daughter to lie with the father under the red moon, to birth the Devouring God from incest and betrayal.”