Page 6 of The Demon's Secret Baby

"Training grounds," Lamain says, his voice taking on a serious tone. "Most of the people we rescue have never had to defend themselves. We're changing that."

I nod approvingly. "Smart. They'll need skills to survive if they ever leave here."

June's face falls slightly at my words, and Lamain wraps an arm around her. "We hope they won't have to," he says softly. "But we want them prepared, just in case."

"What about medical care?" I ask, suddenly realizing I haven't seen anything resembling an infirmary.

June's eyes light up. "Oh! I almost forgot. Follow me."

She leads us to a small structure tucked away near the edge of the clearing. Inside, shelves line the walls, filled with various herbs and poultices.

"I've been learning healing magic," June explains, her voice filled with excitement. "It's slow going, but I'm making progress."

Lamain beams with pride. "She's a natural. Saved more than a few lives already."

I feel a twinge of something unfamiliar. Pride? Admiration? Whatever it is, it's clear that Lamain and June have found their purpose here.

As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in deep purples and oranges, I follow Lamain and June to a large clearing. Fires flicker to life, casting dancing shadows across the faces of the gathered people. The scent of roasting meat and familiar spices fills the air.

I hang back, leaning against a massive tree trunk as I watch the scene unfold. Lamain moves through the crowd with ease, his presence commanding yet comforting. He clasps shoulders, offers words of encouragement, his deep voice carrying over the general chatter.

June flits from person to person, her bright hair catching the firelight. She kneels beside a young woman, speaking softly as she checks a bandage on her arm. The woman's tense posture relaxes visibly under June's gentle touch.

My gaze sweeps over the gathering, taking in the details. There's a mix of ages and races, all bearing the haunted look of those who've seen too much. But there's something else there too – a spark of hope in their eyes as they look to Lamain and June.

A group of children dash past, laughing as they chase each other around the fires. One trips, skinning his knee. Before I can move, Lamain is there, scooping the boy up with a grin. He whispers something that makes the child giggle, the pain forgotten.

June appears at Lamain's side, a plate of food in each hand. She passes one to the boy, ruffling his hair before moving on to an elderly couple huddled near one of the fires. Her smile is warm as she settles beside them, listening intently to their quiet words.

I watch as Lamain and June work in tandem, moving through the crowd with practiced ease. They're more than just providers of food and shelter – they've become the heart of this fledgling community.

A low murmur catches my attention. Near the edge of the clearing, a small group has gathered. Their faces are tight with worry, voices hushed but urgent. Lamain notices too, excusing himself from a conversation to join them. I can't hear his words, but I see the tension drain from their shoulders as he speaks.

June approaches me, two steaming bowls in her hands. She offers one to me with a smile. "You're welcome to join us, you know. You don't have to stand here alone."

I accept the bowl with a nod, but make no move to join the others. June doesn't press, simply leaning against the tree beside me. We stand in comfortable silence, watching as Lamain the others.

I can't help but feel a twinge of something unfamiliar. It's been a long time since I've been part of something like this – a community, a purpose larger than myself. I push the thought aside, focusing instead on the warmth of the bowl in my hands and the quiet strength of the woman beside me.

As my gaze continues to scan over the people gathered around the fire, it halts on a woman I haven't seen before.She stands apart from the others, her posture alert yet relaxed. Auburn hair catches the firelight, framing a face that's both striking and subtle. Her eyes, a deep emerald, reflect the flames as they dart around the clearing, ever watchful.

She’s beautiful.

Something about her draws me in. Perhaps it's the quiet strength in her stance or the hint of wariness in her gaze. Before I realize it, I'm moving through the crowd towards her, murmuring to June as I walk away.

As I approach, her eyes lock onto mine. There's no fear there, just curiosity and a hint of... amusement?

"I don't believe we've met," I say, my voice low. "I'm Volezimir."

A slight smile tugs at her lips. "Zylpha," she replies, her voice carrying a hint of roughness. "You're not from around here, are you?"

I raise an eyebrow. "What gave it away? The horns?" I feel a smile pulling on my own lips. "Or the charming personality?"

Her smile widens a fraction. "Oh, definitely the charm. It's practically oozing off you."

I feel the corner of my mouth twitch. It's been a long time since anyone's matched my dry humor so effortlessly.

"I'm wounded," I deadpan. "And here I thought I was being the picture of congeniality."

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