Page 64 of Demon Daddy's Little Girl

I place her in the chair between the twins, watching as they immediately link hands under the table. The room fills with warm chatter and laughter, so different from the cold silence that used to echo through these walls. My home has transformed from a sanctuary of solitude into something brighter, warmer – filled with the family I thought I'd lost the chance to have.

The twins regale us with tales of their latest magical mishaps while we eat, their small hands gesturing wildly. I catch Mira's eye as she gently reminds Nova not to talk with her mouth full, and we share a knowing smile.

"And then the suru turned purple!" Luna announces, practically bouncing in her seat.

"It wasn't supposed to be purple," Nova adds solemnly. "We were trying for blue."

Rose giggles, sauce smeared across her chin. "Papa, can you teach me how to make my sparkles change colors like that?"

My hand stops halfway to my wine glass. The word echoes in my head – Papa. Such a simple word, yet it steals the breathfrom my lungs. Heat pricks behind my eyes, and I blink rapidly, struggling to maintain my composure.

Karn pauses, giving me a look. Mira pauses, her hand hovering over the bread basket. And Ada looks at me, clearly touched and waiting to see my reaction.

Rose seems oblivious to the impact of her words, already reaching for more potatoes. "The twins said their sparkles started changing colors after you showed them. Will you show me too?"

I clear my throat, but my voice still comes out rougher than intended. "Of course, little flower."

My fingers tremble as I finally grasp my wine glass. Seven years I've carried the weight of what could have been, of the family that slipped through my fingers. Now this tiny hurricane of glitter and joy looks at me with such trust, such easy affection.

"After dinner," I add, when I trust my voice again. "We'll practice in the garden where there's more space."

Rose beams at me, sauce still on her chin, and my chest tightens with an emotion I'm not ready to name. "Thank you, Papa!"

The second time hits just as hard as the first. I catch Karn watching me, understanding in his eyes. He knows what this means – what I lost, what I've found. I take a long drink of wine, using the moment to compose myself.

A small hand slips into mine under the table, squeezing gently. Ada's warmth seeps through my skin, anchoring me in the moment. Her honey-blonde braid falls forward as she leans closer, and I catch the faint scent of herbs that always clings to her clothes.

The front door creaks open, and Rolfo's heavy footsteps echo through the hall. His silver eyes take in the scene – the scattered glitter, the half-eaten meal, my barely concealed emotion – and understanding crosses his features.

"Started without me, I see." He drops into the empty chair beside me, his black hair still windswept from patrol. His hand lands on my shoulder, grip firm and steady. "Though I heard the sparkles from three streets away, so I knew where to find everyone."

"Uncle Rolfo!" Rose bounces in her seat. "Look what I can do now!" She waves her tiny hands, and silver stars dance around his head.

"Impressive." Rolfo ducks as one star zips past his ear. "You'll be running the guard's magical division before you know it."

Ada's thumb traces circles on my palm, her touch grounding. When I glance at her, there's a softness in her brown eyes I've never seen before. The haunted shadow that usually lurks there has lifted, if only for this moment.

"Here." Mira slides a plate toward Rolfo, her movements careful but no longer fearful. "We saved you plenty."

"You're a blessing." Rolfo digs in with the enthusiasm of a man who's spent twelve hours on patrol. Between bites, he catches my eye. "You good?"

I nod, not trusting my voice just yet. Ada's hand tightens in mine, and something in my chest loosens. The twins have resumed their chatter, Rose joining in with tales of her own magical experiments. Their laughter fills the spaces between my ribs where loneliness used to live.

The house settles into quiet as our guests depart. Karn herds the twins toward their carriage, both girls yawning despite their protests. Mira follows with an armful of leftover desserts, and Rolfo escorts them home. Ada retreats to our room after kissing Rose goodnight, her smile softer than usual. Rose insisted that I put her to bed.

I move through the house, extinguishing lamps and gathering scattered toys. A faint glow catches my attention – light spilling from my study door. Inside, Rose has claimed mymassive leather chair, her tiny frame dwarfed by its size. A book lies open across her lap, its pages illuminated by a small orb of silver light floating above her head.

Her honey-blonde curls spill over the armrest, and her violet eyes droop as she traces the words with her finger. The sight stops me in my doorway. How many nights had I sat alone in that same chair, drowning myself in work to fill the emptiness?

"Papa?" Rose's sleepy voice breaks through my thoughts. "Can you carry me to bed? I'm too tired to walk."

My heart swells, threatening to burst through my ribs. I cross the room in two strides, carefully lifting her into my arms. The book slides onto the cushion – one of my old tomes on magical theory, far too advanced for her yet.

Rose burrows against my chest, her small fingers curling into my shirt. "I like your heartbeat," she mumbles. "It sounds like thunder, but softer."

I press my lips to her hair, breathing in the scent of flowers and magic that always surrounds her. Her weight in my arms feels right, like a missing piece slotting into place. "Sleep, little flower. I've got you."

She yawns, her eyes already closed. "Love you, Papa."

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