Within a few days, Ra-Gadol gathered over a thousand demon warriors.

Reports from some of them who’d been hiding in human villages told of what a sight his legion was from the fields below the foothills. Villagers would look up to the Obsidian Mountains at night and see countless, orange glows in the darkness, and clouds of smoke rising to black out the stars. The humans in the villages below prayed that the lights and smoke were only the result of volcanic activity in the mountains, and not a demon army preparing to charge in and wipe them all out.

Trained mountain goats pulled behind them wooden crates on wheels. Each crate was filled with food supplies for the army, and axles and wheels lined every side, so that if the crates were to tip over on the difficult terrain they could keep rolling.

At the end of every day’s march, Ra-Gadol pitched his tent at the highest point in the camp. In the twilight hours, he’d meet with his officers to discuss tactics and assign spies.

When night fell, his officers left, and he and his mother had time to spend in privacy.

One night, Ra-Gadol had just dismissed his officers and slumped down in his chair when his mother said, “You know, you are everything I hoped you’d be.” She strolled about the tent, until she came up behind him and started to massage his shoulders.

Ra-Gadol’s face burned at her touch, and grew hotter when her fingers slipped under his collar and caressed his bare skin. As she worked his muscles, her scent wafted into his nostrils, and he was as a drunkard. His brain swam in a sea of senses and pleasures; some immediate and some imminent. Promised.

And he knew her mind was on the same matter when upon the back of his neck he felt her soft, warm lips.

Prickles rippled out from the spot where she’d planted her kiss, washing over him in waves of hot and cold. Her second kiss was just as enticing, on the side of his neck. Then a third on his ear-lobe. Then her teeth clamped down on his ear’s helix.

Ra-Gadol jumped out of the chair, scurried to the other end of the tent, and turned to face her. A mix of terror and anger caused his voice to creak as he said, “What the Hell are you doing?”

Such a perfect seductress, Jahi’s head tilted downward, though her eyes locked on the prince’s. Something in that look was so alluring, almost as much as the shape of her body, accentuated as she thrust one hip out to one side. The loose dress shifted, all but completely exposing her left breast.

“Come now,” Jahi cooed. “You can’t pretend you don’t want this. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me since you were old enough to desire a woman.”

The prince’s hands trembled. What terrified Ra-Gadol the most was just how right she was. He’d been lusting after his mother for years. He’d dreamt about her, fantasized about her, and rarely missed a chance to admire her body.

But even the most debauched of demon clans agreed that intimate relations between a man and his mother were abominable.

Ra-Gadol stood paralyzed as Jahi crossed the tent toward him. Everything in the way she moved presented her body as soft and inviting. All the prince’s urges were to reach out and touch her. Take her. Make her his own.

When she drew near, her hands crept up the length of his arms, her fingers caressing the edges and contours of his muscles before locking behind his head. She pressed her body up against his, and he grew lightheaded at the contact.

With all the force of his willpower, he kept his quaking hands down at his sides.

Jahi rose on the tips of her toes, closed her eyes, and brought her lips near his. “Be mine,” she whispered.

Something within Ra-Gadol snapped. Even as her lips met his, a moment he’d long thought would overwhelm his lusts, it was, instead, rage which burned within him. How could he have been so stupid? Succubi like his mother used men’s desires to manipulate them. He’d thought when this seduction had started that it was because she lusted for him the way he did for her. But, truly, this was just one more person trying to control him.

Thus, as her deceptive tongue entered his mouth, Ra-Gadol bit down hard on it with his fangs.

Jahi pulled away with a yelp, raising a hand to her bleeding mouth. “Not tho rough!” she lisped. But the confusion on her brow soon gave way to horror when she saw his face.

His nostrils flaring and whole body shaking, Ra-Gadol reached out and seized his mother by the throat in both hands. The prince was sure the choked sound from her mouth was either a plea for mercy or a cry for help that would never be born.

“You don’t own me!” Ra-Gadol growled as he tightened his grip and his mother writhed and thrashed. “No one will ever own me. I will never be yours.”

Jahi’s claws raked Ra-Gadol’s face, leaving four crimson stripes across his cheek. Ra-Gadol’s hands released Jahi’s throat as he recoiled in pain.

Jahi turned to the tent entrance to flee.

Ra-Gadol raised his hand and blood spurted from the wounds she gave him as she flew back and toppled over the prince’s chair. She crashed in a heap on the ground, her legs in the air.

The demon prince drew his sword and approached his mother.

“Please… no… I won’t tell a soul…” she pleaded.

“I will not be chained!” he snarled. “I will be free!”

“Yes!” she said with a frantic nod. “Yes, you will!”

Whatever she tried to say next, Ra-Gadol did not hear. He plunged his sword into her chest.

Then again.

And again.

Until her pale body stopped squirming.

The quaking had not left Ra-Gadol’s body, even long after his mother lay dead on the tent floor. He stood, holding his blood-soaked sword for what seemed like ages, before a retch forced its way up to his mouth, and he vomited.