Page 33 of Accidentally a Dragon Daddy

“No, but—”

“No buts,” she said, waving a finger. “She’s here. She’s not going back. It’s a miracle your paths crossed. You have a chance to raise your child in a peaceful home. With both of you. Take it, Damon. Take it and run with it. That’s my advice.”

“Okay,” I said uneasily, shaking my head to clear some of the unhappy thoughts. “You’re right. She’s pregnant, and she’s here. Those things aren’t changing. The only thing I can do is make it the best for her.”

“Put the same effort into this as you do your job, and you won’t fail.”

“Maybe,” I said, looking at my hands, clenching and unclenching them. “But I’ll try my hardest. She deserves that. They deserve it.”

“Good.” She patted my back supportively. “But don’t forget the other part of you. The one you’ve spent so long training.”

“What? Why not?” I asked, wiping my hands on my legs as if that could rid it of all the blood that had stained them.

“Because, just like my predecessor,” the sovereign said, resuming her regality once more, “there will be many of us who do not want that baby to survive. It will be up to you to protect her from them. I will support you and block any legal moves they try to make. But I cannot control what happens in the shadows.”

I straightened my spine, eyes narrowing in fury at the unseen threats to my child.

“No, you can’t,” I agreed, fingers curling into fists that didn’t unclench that time. “But that’s what you trained me for. To fight in the dark. And I swear, no shadow will touch my child. None.”

My snarl echoed through the archives.

Chapter Seventeen

Elanya

Pulling apart a bit more of the bread I’d found on his counter, I chewed on it, nibbling away at the crust as I leaned over the counter. A few slices of cheese lay on the nearby cutting board, the only results of my search for food to settle the rumbling in my belly.

Just another thing that needs fixing, I thought to myself, popping a cheese slice into my mouth. At least it was nice and sharp, and I savored the taste while trying to not think about—

Whoosh. Thump.

I jerked upright as something big landed on the roof. I heard claws scraping at the rock. Whirling, I snatched up the big chef’s knife I’d placed nearby, just in case. Then I crouched out of sight behind the kitchen island.

Please be Damon. Please be Damon.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs, and I swallowed. It wasn’t Damon. There would be no reason for him to come rushing into his own house like that. It had to be an intruder. Which meant he wouldn’t be coming back. The sovereign had decreed he would be punished for his actions.

And now they knew about me. About what I carried in my stomach.

Clutching the knife tightly in my clammy hands, I waited for the best moment. I would only have one chance at it. I had to make it count. Had to wait for the right time to strike.

The footsteps slowed, then started to enter the kitchen. I inhaled slowly, tensing my legs, preparing to leap at the intruder. My heart pounded. Muscles trembled.

There was movement, and I rose silently, aiming the knife where they would be by the time I struck.

“Elanya?”

I stumbled as Damon’s voice filled the kitchen, stood upright, knife extended toward him.

He stood still, his eyes dropping to the makeshift weapon, then up to me, then back again.

“So, ahhh, what exactly were you planning to do?” he asked, casually crossing his arms.

“I didn’t know it was you,” I said. “You didn’t announce yourself.”

“It’s my home,” he pointed out. “I’m allowed to come inside it.”

“How was I supposed to know it was you?”

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