Page 8 of The Demon's Secret Baby

I shouldn't trust him. He's a demon, for crying out loud. But there's an earnestness in his expression that makes me want to believe him. And if I'm honest with myself, I'm curious about this waterfall. I never do something just for fun. I can be honest with how cautious I usually am.

"Okay," I hear myself say, surprised by my own decision. "Let me just finish this row."

As I work, I can't help but steal glances at Volezimir. He's intimidating, sure, with his towering height and those impressive horns. But there's a grace to his movements that belies his size. And his deep charcoal skin... it reminds me of the dark elves, yet it's different. Warmer somehow. It doesn't strike the fear in me that I thought it would — like Lamain did at first.

I shake my head, trying to clear these confusing thoughts. I shouldn't find him attractive. I shouldn't want to trust him. But I do, and that scares me more than anything.

When I'm done, I dust off my hands and stand. "Lead the way," I say, hoping my voice doesn't betray my nerves.

As we leave the garden, I feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. It's been so long since I've felt anything but fear andresignation. This tiny spark of adventure, of connection... It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

I follow Volezimir through the lush jungle, my senses on high alert. The path is narrow, forcing us to walk single file. His massive form parts the foliage ahead, making it easier for me to navigate.

"Watch your step," he rumbles, glancing back at me. "The roots here are tricky."

I nod, focusing on my footing. The air grows heavy with moisture, and I can hear the distant roar of falling water.

Suddenly, the jungle opens up, revealing a breathtaking sight. A waterfall cascades down a cliff face, mist rising in an ethereal cloud. Rainbows dance in the spray where sunlight breaks through the canopy.

"It's beautiful," I breathe, momentarily forgetting my wariness.

Volezimir grins, revealing sharp teeth that should terrify me but somehow don't. "I thought you might like it."

We settle on a sun-warmed rock near the pool at the base of the falls. The mist cools my skin, a welcome relief from the jungle's oppressive heat.

"So," I start, unsure how to break the silence. "Demon life. Lot of stealing children and razing villages?"

He barks out a laugh, startling a flock of colorful birds from a nearby tree. "Oh yes, that's our breakfast, lunch, and dinner. How'd you know?"

I can't help but smile. "Oh I've just heard things here and there. Though I imagine you'll run out of villages one of these days."

"Perhaps," he quips. "But that's a risk I'm just going to have to take."

We fall into an easy silence, broken only by the thundering of the falls. I should feel uncomfortable, alone with this massive demon. But there's something... safe about his presence.

I've spent my entire life on high alert, trying to defend myself. But for the first time, with Volezimir, I can feel myself relaxing. Like I know he'll take care of me, and I need that.

"I hard Lamain say that he came from an island…Is that where you live?"

He nods. "Galmoleth. It's a floating island."

I blink slowly, digesting those words. "What was it like?" I ask softly. "Living on Galmoleth?"

Volezimir's expression grows distant. "Cold," he says finally. "Not in temperature, but... in spirit. Everything's about power, about proving yourself. It's exhausting."

I nod, understanding all too well. "Sounds familiar. Different context, same shit."

He looks at me, those golden eyes filled with curiosity. "Tell me about your life. Before... everything." I hesitate, memories threatening to overwhelm me. So he adds, "If you want."

But his gaze is patient, without judgment. So I talk. About growing up an orphan, about scraping by on the streets. About learning to survive in a world that didn't care if I lived or died. About always fending for myself, and never knowing how to trust someone.

Volezimir listens intently, asking questions here and there. His presence is oddly comforting, like a solid anchor in a storm.

As the afternoon wears on, I find myself relaxing more than I have in years. We swap stories, his tales of demon politics and arena fights a stark contrast to my scrappy street survival.

"You know," I say during a lull in conversation, "for a big, scary demon, you're not half bad company."

He grins, that dangerous smirk that sends a shiver down my spine. "Don't let it get out. I have a reputation to maintain."

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