Fire consumed her skin, revealing tiny, ruby-bright scales. The Fire Daemon stretched, enjoying the freedom from flesh and ran fingers through hair that was a wreath of blue to golden flames.

“Beautiful,” her husband murmured in the corner. He was sweating, frightened and excited both. Under his hands trembled their thirteen year old daughter.

Stepping forward on dainty hooves, she caressed her husband’s cheek, his flesh blistering. He sighed blissfully and pushed their daughter forward. “Your turn sweetie,” he whispered. Wide blue eyes tracked between them and the girl started to whimper.

Taking a deep breath the Daemon smelled lost innocence, fear, and betrayal. Those she had been expecting, but there was something underneath, something the girl might not even know was there.

Hunger.

Cupping her hands, she blew gently scattering embers. There were screams of course. But as fire coiled around her daughter, exposing deep cobalt scales she remembered her own cries the day her Mother had set her ablaze.