Page 20 of The Demon's Secret Baby

The bartender raises an eyebrow. "Well, she's probably halfway across the continent by now. Minotaur ships move fast, and they don't exactly leave a trail."

I lean in close, letting a hint of my true nature seep through the glamour. "I don't care if I have to search every port on this fucking planet. I'm not stopping until I find her."

The bartender takes a step back, his eyes widening slightly. "Alright, alright. Your business is your own. But don't say I didn't warn you."

I toss back the rest of my drink, slamming the empty glass on the bar. As I stand to leave, the bartender calls out, "Hey, if you're really set on this, there's a guy down by the docks. Goes by the name of Salty Pete. If anyone knows anything about ship movements, it'd be him."

I nod curtly, tossing a few coins on the bar before heading out into the night. The air is thick with the stench of fish and unwashed bodies, but I barely notice it anymore. My mind is focused on one thing: finding Zylpha.

As I make my way towards the docks, I can't help but replay the bartender's words in my head. Just get yourself another one. The thought makes my stomach churn. These people, treating humans like they're disposable. Like Zylpha is replaceable.

But she's not. She's... everything. The way her eyes light up when she laughs. The determined set of her jaw when she's working in the garden. The softness of her skin against mine. I clench my fists, pushing down the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm me.

I will find her. No matter what it takes.

I’ll get my Sunshine back.

10

ZYLPHA

Iscrub the deck, my hands raw and blistered from the coarse rope and salt water. The ship pitches beneath me, a constant reminder of my captivity. But I've learned to move with it, to anticipate its rhythms like I once anticipated the cruel whims of my dark elf captors.

"Faster, wench!" The minotaur nudges me hard in the ribs, and I grit my teeth, biting back the urge to spit in his face.

Instead, I focus on the task at hand, letting my mind wander to Aurelius, to Volezimir. The memory of his touch, his gentle golden eyes, fuels the rage simmering inside me. I'm not the same frightened girl I once was. This time, I have something – someone – to fight for.

As I work, I watch. I note the guard rotations, the way the Captain favors his left leg when he walks the quarterdeck. Every scrap of information is a potential key to my freedom.

Night falls, and I'm herded below deck with the other captives. The stench of unwashed bodies and fear is suffocating. But even here, I find purpose.

In the dark hours before dawn, when even the guards grow drowsy, I practice. My fingers, once soft from gardening onAurelius, now calloused from ship work, deftly manipulate a bit of wire I've secreted away.

Lock picking is a skill I never thought I'd need again and now I'm having to find ways to fashion a way out of the new chains they put me in. My little pin broke weeks ago after the transition to the mobile manacles, leaving me no way out.

Days bleed into weeks, into months. The anger that once threatened to consume me has hardened into resolve. I will escape. I will return to Aurelius, to Volezimir. And I will make these bastards pay for every moment of freedom they've stolen from me and the others.

As I haul water from the hold, muscles straining, I catch a glimpse of land on the horizon. My heart races. Soon, we'll make port. And with it comes opportunity.

I may be trapped for now, but my spirit remains unbroken. They think they've caged a helpless girl. They have no idea of the storm they've unleashed.

I lean over the ship's railing, emptying another bucket of grimy water into the churning sea below. The morning sun glints off the waves, momentarily blinding me. As I straighten up, a wave of dizziness washes over me, followed by a strange fluttering sensation in my belly.

I pause, frowning. It's not the first time I've felt off these past few days. At first, I chalked it up to the poor diet and grueling work. But now...

My hand drifts to my stomach, and a wild, impossible thought flashes through my mind. No. It can't be.

Over the next few weeks, my suspicions grow stronger. The constant nausea, the tenderness in my breasts, the missed cycles I've been trying to ignore. Each sign points to a truth I'm terrified to acknowledge.

I'm pregnant. With Volezimir's child.

The realization hits me like a physical blow, leaving me breathless. Joy and fear war within me, threatening to tear me apart. A child. Our child. A piece of Volezimir growing inside me, a reminder of our love and the life we shared on Aurelius.

But the joy is quickly overshadowed by crushing fear. I'm a captive on a minotaur ship, surrounded by danger. If they discover my condition...

I've seen how they treat pregnant slaves. Worked to death or sold off to the highest bidder. I can't let that happen. I won't.

Every morning, I wake with a renewed determination. I force down the meager rations, choking back bile, knowing I need to keep up my strength. I work harder than ever, ignoring the aches and fatigue, desperate to avoid drawing attention to myself.

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