Page 46 of The Demon's Secret Baby

VOLEZIMIR

Istride through the gates of the gates, Kaelox's small hand clasped in mine. The day's excursion has left me feeling lighter, more connected to my son. His eager questions and wide-eyed wonder at the world around him remind me of the beauty that still exists, even in the darkest corners of Galmoleth.

But as we near the main entrance, something shifts. The air feels heavy, charged with an energy that sets my teeth on edge. My demonic senses flare to life, picking up traces of powerful magic lingering in the air. It's not the familiar warmth of Zylpha's human magic, nor the raw power that Kaelox is just beginning to tap into. This is something else entirely - cold, calculating, and unmistakably dangerous.

I tighten my grip on Kaelox's hand, pulling him closer to my side. My eyes scan the courtyard, searching for any sign of disturbance or threat. Everything looks normal, but the wrongness persists, making my skin crawl.

"Dad?" Kaelox's voice is small, uncertain. He's picking up on my tension, his mismatched eyes wide with concern.

I force a smile, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's alright, son. Let's get inside and find your mother."

We quicken our pace, and I can't shake the feeling. The magic in the air seems to cling to us, a silent warning of something I can't quite grasp. As we reach the massive oak doors of our wing, I pause, placing a protective hand on Kaelox's shoulder.

I guide Kaelox through the winding corridors of our wing, my senses still on high alert. The boy chatters excitedly about our day, but I can't shake the unease that's settled in my gut. Something's off, and I need to find Zylpha.

"Let's get you settled in your room, son," I say, trying to keep my voice light. "I'm sure Mara will be happy to hear all about your adventures."

We reach Kaelox's chambers, and I knock on the heavy wooden door. Mara, a trusted servant who's been helping care for Kaelox, opens it with a warm smile.

"Welcome back," she says, bowing slightly. "Did you have a good day with your father?"

Kaelox nods enthusiastically, already launching into a detailed account of our trip. I catch Mara's eye over his head, silently communicating my need for discretion.

"Mara," I say, my tone carefully neutral, "would you mind watching Kaelox for a bit? I need to speak with his mother."

Mara's eyes flicker with understanding. She understands the importance of secrecy. "Of course. We'll be just fine here, won't we, Kaelox?"

I kneel down, bringing myself to eye level with my son. "I'll be back soon," I promise, ruffling his hair. "Why don't you show Mara that new fire trick we practiced today?"

Kaelox beams, already summoning a small flame to dance across his palm. I give him one last squeeze on the shoulder before stepping out of the room, my mind racing with possibilities of what might have happened in my absence.

I leave Kaelox in his room, my heart racing as I search for Zylpha. Our bedchamber stands empty, the sheets still rumpledfrom this morning. A chill runs down my spine as I catch a whiff of that same cold magic from earlier, stronger now.

I bolt down the stairs, taking them three at a time. My footsteps echo through the halls as I make my way to the gardens, her favorite refuge. The scent of demon roses and nightshade fills the air, but it's tainted by something... wrong.

As I round the corner, time seems to slow. There, beneath the twisted branches of an ancient tree, stands Zylpha. But she's not alone. Azrathel looms over her, his tall form casting a shadow across her face. They're close. Too close.

My breath catches in my throat. From this angle, it looks... intimate. Azrathel's hand rests on Zylpha's jaw, his fingers curled possessively around her chin. Her eyes are wide, but I can't read the emotion in them. Fear? Or something else?

A surge of jealousy rips through me, hot and violent. It's quickly followed by a wave of cold fear. What is he doing here? What has he said to her?

Before I can call out, Azrathel's head turns. His eyes lock with mine, and a slow, triumphant grin spreads across his face. He drops his hand from Zylpha's face and takes a step back.

"Ah, Volezimir," he purrs, his voice dripping with false warmth. "What perfect timing. I was just having a... lovely conversation with your mate." He snarls the word, making it sound twisted, and I don't correct him. Technically, Zylpha isn't my mate.

He strolls towards me, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. As he passes, he claps a hand on my shoulder, leaning in close.

"She's quite... reactive," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. "You should keep a closer eye on your treasures, old friend."

With that, he's gone, leaving me frozen in place, my mind reeling. I turn to Zylpha, desperate for answers, for reassurance. But the look on her face only deepens my unease.

My chest heaves with barely contained rage at what I just witnessed. The garden suddenly feels too small, the air thick with tension. My eyes blaze with demonic fire as I struggle to control the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

"What the fuck was that?" I roar, my voice echoing off the stone walls. The plants around us tremble, leaves rustling in response to my unleashed power. "I leave for one day and come back to find you and Azrathel... What? Conspiring? Getting cozy?"

Zylpha flinches at my tone, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and indignation. Guilt sputters through me. I know I shouldn't be angry. I know that that is what Azrathel wants.

But I can't get the image of them together out of my head. I can't get the way she was staring at him throughout the ball, barely paying attention to little else, to leave my mind.

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