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For the sake of my son, there wouldn’t be anything I would not risk. She was too precious to me. He was too?—
The midwife spoke in a language I was unfamiliar with, her quick tongue taking me by surprise from beside me. According to Khepria, Mr. Redding had left a large inheritance for her. Once we decided to settle down in South America, we quickly made a home for ourselves near a small friendly village. It was easy for her to blend in as they carried similar physical characteristics as her.
The midwife’s arms shot out as she handed me a wrapped bundle.
It was then when everything around me faded into non-existence. His skin was as sunkissed and olive toned as his mother, a little spruce of a dark puff on his forehead for a mane.
I couldn’t move. Not when everything I knew about life rearranged itself in an earthly second.
Fear. Joy. Worry. Jubilation. Anxiety.
In my entire existence, I was never placed in such a predicament. I was at a loss as to what to do or what to say.
Until he opened his eyes and my beloved gasped, reaching out to touch my shoulder, breaking whatever trance I had been put under by this tiny mortal in my lower arms. I reached and peeled back the soft cotton fabric, gently running my finger along his round little face.
“He bears your colors, Isolarel. He is definitely his father’s son,” she whispered in awe as I stared into iridescent eyes that mirrored my shell.
It was as if his irises held galaxies inside of them, beyond the comprehension of any demi god’s understanding. It was then I realized how small I truly was in a world created for men. And how precious of a gift I had been truly given when the curse was broken—when Khepria forced her way into my life and into my heart.
“What shall we name him, my love,” she asked softly into my ear as she leaned over my shoulder and peered down into the eyes of our creation.
“Kafele. For he is the one I would die for.”
* * *
Thank you for readingIsolarel’s Inferno. If you want to check out some of my other books, then why not check outHer 13th Hour!
https://books2read.com/u/mdX9qX
OrThe Hunger of Thieves!
https://books2read.com/u/mVeNxr
If you get your kicks in a magical manner, order toys from websites like bad dragon, and prefer your monstersinyour bed instead ofunderthem, then Y. D. is your girl.
Writing everything from spicy dark fantasy to fluffier-than-a-cool-marshmallow romance, Y.D. La Mar has her fingers in all sorts of man-meat pie, and the sky is the limit. Somehow, this magical mistress manages to balance her spicy author life with her responsibilities as a mom, a wife, and a resident of Sin City—oh, irony, you've felled me.
When the world is full of black-and-white, Y.D. plays in the grey zones, spending her time creating new ways to shock and awe her editor, as well as her readers.
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