Page 25 of Demon Daddy's Little Girl

"You do practice very well, sweet pea." I smooth back a stray curl from her forehead.

"See?" Rose bounces in her seat, turning back to Dezoth. "Please, Cappy Dez?"

He sets down his spoon, and for a moment, that intimidating presence returns as he considers her request with careful thought. But then those sharp features soften again, and he inclines his head. "Perhaps we can start with proper stance tomorrow."

The squeal Rose lets out could shatter glass, but Dezoth's pleased expression makes something in my chest tighten painfully. I haven't seen anyone look at her that way since her father - and that was when I was still pregnant.

I've been seeing more and more of that side of Dezoth coming out.

I watch Dezoth's large hands, so lethal in combat, carefully cut Rose's meat into tiny, manageable pieces. His obsidian hair falls forward as he leans over her plate, and she reaches up to tug at the silver cord holding it back.

"Why do you tie it up?" Rose peers at the intricate knot.

"So it doesn't get in my eyes when I'm working." He slides her plate back, the meat now in perfect child-sized bites. "Just like how your mother braids your hair."

"But yours is pretty. It's like the night sky!" She stuffs a piece of meat in her mouth. "Do all guards have long hair?"

"Some do." His golden eyes crinkle at the corners. "But we all wear the silver cord. It marks us as city guards."

"Is that like your arm pictures?" She points to his ritual markings.

"These show I'm a master craftsman." He rolls up his sleeve, revealing more of the intricate designs. "Each pattern tells a different story."

"What story do those tell?"

Instead of brushing off her questions like most would with a child, he traces one marking with his finger. "This spiral means I learned to forge weapons. The flames around it show I passed the trials by fire."

My hands shake as I grip my cup. The way he explains things, patient and clear - it reminds me so much of Arzollon. He was so patient with me, too. So kind and caring and understanding. I can only imagine how good he would be with Rose.

I meant what I said to Dezoth. I do miss and love Arzollon, but I have healed from it. His death does not debilitate me the way it used to. I would love nothing more than to have him back, but I can't. I've made my peace with that. Now, I'm focused on moving forward with Rose.

"Can I be a craftsman too?" Rose leans forward, nearly putting her elbow in her stew.

"Careful." Dezoth catches her bowl before it tips. "And yes, if you study hard and practice. Though you might want to master using a spoon properly first."

Rose giggles, and the sound draws a rare smile from him - one that transforms his intimidating features into something gentle. Something that tugs at my chest.

That's been happening more and more, too, and I have to stop it. I can't develop too much trust in this demon. This is not our life forever. I'm just getting my feet under me.

I look down at my plate, my chest tight. I shouldn't let them grow close, either. We can't stay here forever. But watching him teach her, protect her... it makes me wonder if maybe, just maybe, not all demons are like her grandfather.

Rose sets down her spoon, her violet eyes serious. "I like it here with Cappy Dez. It's better than running all the time."

My fork clatters against the plate. The room spins, and I grip the edge of the table to steady myself.

"Ada?" Dezoth's deep voice carries concern.

I can't look at him. Can't bear to see the way his usual stern mask has cracked, revealing something raw and vulnerable beneath if his voice is any indication. I can't face his golden eyes that tend to cut me to my core when he looks at me not like I'm less than, not like I'm worthless.

No, sometimes he looks at me like I'm worth protecting and that hurts.

"We have a nice bed here," Rose continues, oblivious to my distress. "And Cappy Dez makes the best pancakes. Remember the blue ones, Mama? With sparkles!"

"Rose-" My voice catches.

"And he keeps the bad people away." She pushes her plate aside, leaning toward him. "Right, Cappy Dez?"

Dezoth's shoulders straighten, his protective instincts visible in every line of his powerful frame. "Always, little one."

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