Page 17 of Nanny for the Minotaur

I touch his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. "Dreams often tell us what our hearts need to process." My fingers linger on his fur before pulling away. "What else do you see, Kai?"

"Sometimes Mira's crying, and I can't reach her." Kai's blue eyes fill with tears. "I try to run, but my legs won't move. And Mother just watches, saying I'm too common to be any real help."

"Night terrors give voice to our deepest fears." I lean forward, meeting Kai's gaze. "They're not just random dreams - they're your mind trying to make sense of difficult feelings. Missing your mother, wanting to protect Mira, feeling pressure to be perfect - these are heavy burdens for anyone, especially someone so young."

Theron's breath catches. His massive frame seems to collapse in on itself as he pulls Kai into his arms, cradling both children against his chest. "I never knew... I should have..."

"You're here now. We're both here now, and you don't have to be afraid Kai." I reach across the table, squeezing his hand. "That's what matters."

Later, we tuck Kai into his new bed, his frame dwarfed by the star-covered blankets. Kai's eyes meet mine as I smooth his covers.

"Will you stay? Just until I fall asleep?"

"Of course." I settle into the chair beside them, aware of Theron's solid presence behind me. "As long as you need."

And I realize, I'm starting to really mean that. They have me, have stolen my heart, and I think it will be permanent.

9

THERON

The cards snap against each other as I shuffle with more force than needed, Dex's knowing smirk burning into my skull from across the table. Steam rises from our untouched ales, the tavern's usual evening crowd providing a comfortable background noise.

"You're going to bend those cards if you keep that up." Dex leans back, his bronze horn rings catching the lamplight. "Though I suppose anything's better than listening to your try and act like you can't stand the 'presumptuous human healer' who's taken over your household."

My hands still. "I don't rant."

"Oh?" He scratches his chin, green eyes twinkling. "What was it you said last month? 'That woman reorganized my entire kitchen without asking.' And the month before that? 'She's teaching my children herbs instead of their lessons.'" His impression of my deeper voice is terrible. "Funny how I haven't heard a single complaint lately."

The deck creaks under my grip. "She's... competent."

"Competent?" Dex's massive frame shakes with laughter. "Your house hasn't looked this alive since—" He stops, his expression softening. "Well, it's been a while."

"Don't."

"Theron." He leans forward, lowering his voice. "It's been nearly four years. Cassandra wouldn't want?—"

"You don't know what she'd want." The words come out as a growl.

"Maybe not." Dex's usual playful demeanor falls away. "Or maybe I'm right and she wants for you to love those kids enough for both of you. But loving them doesn't mean you have to stay alone. And don't tell me you haven't noticed how Lyra looks at you."

"She's human." I deal the cards with sharp movements.

"And? Times are changing, old friend. Besides..." He picks up his cards, arranging them with careful precision. "When was the last time you smiled before she came along? Really smiled?"

The question hits harder than I expect. My chest tightens as I think of Lyra's laugh this morning, the way she'd stood toe-to-toe with me despite barely reaching my chest, insisting the children needed more time outside.

"It would dishonor Cassandra's memory."

Dex slams his cards down. "That's shit. You know what would dishonor her memory? Letting guilt over a marriage neither of you wanted keep you from finding happiness."

I stare at the forgotten cards, my throat tight. The tavern's warmth suddenly feels stifling, and I loosen my collar. "That's not the guilt that eats at me…" I finally admit. "It's that I… I never loved her."

And I know that if I replace her, I'll feel nothing but relief.Thatwould dishonor my late wife's memory.

The words hang between us, heavy with years of unspoken truth. My fingers trace the silver rings on my horns – merchant's marks that Cassandra had sneered at during our wedding day.

"She was so... proper. Every gesture calculated, every word measured. Even with the children." I take a long drink of ale. "I'd come home to find Kai hiding in the study because his mother said his laughter was unseemly. Found Mira's drawings crumpled in the waste bin because ladies don't sketch."

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