Page 22 of Demon Daddy's Little Girl

"Keep it then." His words come quick, almost harsh. "The garden. Make what you will of it."

I look up, surprised by the offer. The sun catches his obsidian hair, highlighting the strands of until they look more deep blue than black. His golden eyes avoid mine.

"Thank you," I say softly, turning back to the tangled plants. My fingers find their purpose in the soil, and for a moment, I feel grounded in a way I haven't since we started running.

I work until it's time for Rose to get up. I decide not to take her into that garden, not yet. Instead, we spend the afternoon in the herb garden, me teaching her everything I know. I can't help wanting to savor being outside, soaking in the warmth until the sun goes down.

Dezoth joins us for dinner, entertaining Rose's many questions. And I realize that tonight, I don't tremble near him. I just watch them, noting how good he is with her.

It makes me wonder, when he looks at her with that sad smile, what he's thinking. Why he's so keen on helping her.

After dinner, I help Rose change into her nightgown, her eyelids already heavy from a day of learning letters and playing in the garden. She clutches her batlaz pillow - of which there are now three thanks to Dezoth - close as I tuck her into bed.

"Mama, did you see how pretty my letters were? All blue and shiny?" Rose yawns, snuggling deeper into her pillow.

"They were beautiful, sweetheart." I brush her curls back, marveling at how much she looks like her father in the soft lamplight. The same violet eyes, though hers shine with an innocence his never had.

"I like when Cap’ain Dez teaches me. His hands are big but they're gentle." She traces invisible letters in the air. "Like when he showed me how to hold the quill."

My throat tightens. I've noticed that too – how carefully he handles her, as if she's made of glass. How his intimidating presence softens around her edges, like steel turning to silk.

"And did you see him at dinner? He looked sad." Rose's perception catches me off guard. "Maybe I can write him sparkly leaders and make him happy."

I kiss her forehead, buying time to steady my voice. "Maybe you can."

"Will you tell me a story? The one about the thalivern princess again."

As I weave the familiar tale, my mind drifts to Dezoth standing in that overgrown garden. The pain in his eyes when he mentioned it was someone else's burden before. The way he'd offered me the space without hesitation, though it clearly held memories he'd rather forget.

Rose's breathing deepens into sleep, but I remain perched on her bed, lost in thought. Every day reveals another crack in Dezoth's stern facade – the gentleness with which he guides Rose's letters, his quiet respect for my boundaries, the flickers of vulnerability when he thinks no one's watching.

My fingers dig into the bedsheet. This dangerous warmth spreading through my chest needs to stop. I've learned the hard way that a demon's kindness can turn to cruelty in an instant. But watching him with Rose, seeing the loneliness etched in his features when he thought I wasn't looking...

I press my palms against my eyes. I can't afford to trust him. Can't risk being wrong about another demon, no matter how much my heart aches to ease the sadness in his golden eyes.

10

DEZOTH

The moon casts silver ribbons through my window, but sleep eludes me. I toss aside the sheets and rise, my footsteps silent against the wooden floors as I head for the kitchen. A movement catches my eye through the window - Ada kneels in the garden, her honey-blonde braid gleaming in the moonlight as she tends to the roses.

I pause, cup of water forgotten. Seeing her in the garden earlier nearly shattered me. So many memories of Raina - and the months after she left - filtered through my mind. That's why I shut the damn thing off, unable to look at it. Now my feet carry me toward the door before I can question why.

The night air wraps around me as I step outside. Ada's shoulders tense at my approach, but she doesn't flee. Progress, perhaps.

"You need a different soil base here." Her voice is soft but steady as I lower myself beside her, my knees cracking in protest. "It's suffocating the roses."

I study the wild roses, their thorny stems reaching toward the stars. "I wouldn't know the difference. Plants aren't my expertise."

"No?" A ghost of a smile touches her lips as she works the soil with practiced fingers. "I assumed all demons had green thumbs, given your connection to elemental magic."

"That's like assuming all humans can cook because they need to eat." I shift, trying to find a comfortable position among the flower beds. My ceremonial markings catch the moonlight, a reminder of where my true talents lie.

"Fair point." Ada reaches for another plant, her movements graceful even in the dim light. The scar along her collarbone peeks out from her collar - a reminder of why she's here, why she runs. Though she hasn't told me that story yet, I can piece together at least some of it. "Though I've yet to meet a demon who tends their own garden."

"We usually have others for that." The words come out harsher than intended, and I see her fingers tighten around the stem. "Though I'm beginning to see the appeal."

She glances at me then, warm brown eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before returning to her work. "It's peaceful. When the world is quiet like this, it's easier to think."

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