Rhyn bristled and turned. Kris lit another torch to display a darkened case on the wall.
Rhyn's fists clenched as he took in the beheaded, dismembered body hung for spite on the wall. "My father's killer," Kris said, taking in the demoness's body.
"You kill my mother," Rhyn snarled. "Yet you've never come after me."
"Andre killed your mother and kept me from destroying you as I should have," Kris replied. "You're a cancer on everyone around you. Andre was too kind to kill you. Even Katie is better off without you."
Rhyn heard without listening, instead taking in the tortured features of his mother's face. He'd gone from being tormented by his own mother to the affection of an abusive father who regretted ever having him. What small maternal instincts a demon could have had led her to destroy the man who took her son; then she in turn was killed by Andre.
Andre had taken Rhyn in when he was five and he fled his bullying brothers when he was ten. Andre, however, unanimously approved Rhyn's petition to be recognized as a son of their father when he was old enough, despite his brothers' objections.
"They both deserve what they got," Rhyn said. "Andre alone has ever shown me any kindness."
"And look where that got us all. If he'd killed you, he'd be alive and Katie would be safe." "Safe?" Rhyn echoed. "You'd force her to become your mate."
"I wouldn't force a human to do anything."
"But you'd hold her down and take her blood." Rhyn's voice lowered dangerously and he faced his brother. Kris fell silent. "Did you think I didn't know?"
"She told you."
"She didn't have to."
"I didn't intend for it to happen," Kris said. "You're no better than Sasha," Rhyn said.
"And she's better off with you? You have nothing to offer her."
Rhyn faced his mother again. The words were too familiar. Katie had said the same. He hadn't even been able to keep her safe when they were together, and he had nothing-- not even a home-- to give her.
"Don't destroy anything while you're here," Kris said and left.
Rhyn ignored him, turning from the mother who'd never wanted him to the father who'd wanted him dead-dead. He'd had one friend in his life, Gabriel, and his mate, a woman tough in spirit but vulnerable in flesh. He didn't belong here with Kris's kind, yet she was safe. People around him had a way of dying horribly, and he wasn't entirely sure what to do about it, now that it mattered. He wished Andre had stuck around a little longer, so he could've asked him what to do.