Prologue
It was the darkest of nights, no moonlight visible. The sounds of the mother’s screams could be heard across the land, sending fear throughout the realm. But the baby’s cries overlapped it.
“Help her,” the father of the baby whispered.
He wasn't certain if he was talking about his baby or his wife. Well, now that he had seen what sort of creature the baby was, he realized she probably wasn't his. But he could barely process this painful revelation as his wife continued to scream, pulling at her hair, her face pale with exhaustion from giving birth only minutes ago.
The witch doctor still remained in the room, but the rest of the coven had bailed once they laid eyes on the baby, saw what she was, saw the shadows in her eyes.
“A maddening,” the doctor whispered in horror as he backed away from the bloodstained bed where the baby lay beside her mother, kicking and screaming.
The mother had tried to hold the baby at first, despite everyone’s fears.
“She won’t hurt me,” she promised.
But the baby had hurt her. Had made her go mad, poisoned the mother’s brain with her power of madness.
“Oh Gods,” the father choked out as reality crashed down on him.
His wife had cheated on him. And with a Maddening, one of the most feared and rare creatures in the realms. And now they had a hybrid, half-witch, half-maddening baby on their hands, one that had stolen her mother’s sanity within seconds of entering this realm. Not that it was the baby’s fault, but…
A rage built inside the husband’s chest.
“Get it out of here,” he commanded. “Take it as far away from here as possible.”
The doctor looked at him with wide eyes. "Sir, I don't think that's possible. You know maddenings can't control their power until they're older. And until then, anyone who tries to touch her is putting themselves at risk for getting cursed by madness."
“Then put a spell on her. Spell her powers to be dormant. I know it’s possible to do on younger maddenings.” He cast one last glance at the baby and a bit of guilt clutched at his chest.
For months, as the baby grew in his wife's belly, he had fallen in love with the idea of her. Now, though, that love no longer existed. Only hate did. And part of him hated himself for feeling this way, but he couldn't let it go—let go of what the baby represented.
He turned to leave the room.
“After we spell her, where do you want us to take her?” the doctor called out.
He gave a stiff shrug. “I don’t care. Just as long as it’s far away from here.”
“And what about your wife?” The doctor asked cautiously.
His wife let out a scream then, begging for the darkness to leave her.
He ignored her, though, reminding himself that she’d done this to herself.
“Get rid of her. Just make sure I never see her or the baby again,” he bit out.
Then he stormed out of the room without so much as a glance back.