Page 20 of Demon Daddy's Little Girl

Ada's sweet voice fills the room once more. I close my eyes, letting the melody wash over me. Her shoulder relaxes against mine as the song continues. When she shivers – the night air carries a chill – I resist the urge to wrap an arm around her.

Her hair brushes my chest as she shifts, finding a more comfortable position. The scent of herbs and sunshine clings to her – she must have spent the afternoon in the garden. My fingers twitch with the desire to run through those golden strands.

Rose's breathing evens out, but neither of us move. The quiet feels sacred somehow, this bubble of peace in a world determined to tear apart everything beautiful. Ada's head droops, exhaustion finally claiming her. She fits perfectly against my side, as if carved from the same stone.

We sit in companionable silence, pretending this moment isn't shattering every careful boundary we've built. Pretending my heart doesn't race at her proximity. Pretending her fingers haven't curled into the fabric of my shirt.

The quiet creak of floorboards breaks our peaceful silence as Ada slides away from me, her warmth leaving a ghost of sensation as she straightens. Rose's tiny snores fill the room.

I unfold from the chair, my muscles protesting the awkward position. Ada's fingers brush her daughter's forehead before she turns toward the door. I follow, closing it with practiced care.

The hallway stretches before us, moonlight filtering through arched windows. Ada wraps her arms around herself, her honey-blonde hair gleaming silver in the darkness. The space between us crackles with unspoken words.

"Thank you." Her voice barely carries above a whisper. "For staying. And for coming at all-"

I shake my head. "Ada, I don't need to know what happened in your past. But I want you to know that I don't want anything to happen to you or Rose."

I want to protect them. I've had that ache in my chest since the second I saw them, and I get that it is suspicious to Ada that I could be this selfless - but I'm not really. I'm doing this for my own shattered heart, to keep Rose from being another child gone missing, than anything else.

Her eyes finally meet mine, warm brown searching golden. Something shifts in her expression – recognition, perhaps, that I'm not the man she's running from.

"I know," she murmurs.

She moves to step past me, but hesitates. Her fingers reach out, brushing against mine lightly. The contact sends electricity racing up my arm.

"Goodnight, Dezoth."

My name on her lips sounds like a prayer. She turns away, her bare feet silent on the wooden floor as she heads toward her room. The scent of herbs and sunshine lingers in her wake.

I flex my fingers, still feeling the ghost of her touch. The hallway suddenly feels colder, emptier without her presence.

9

ADA

Ispread out the worn alphabet cards on the floor of the sitting room, watching Rose arrange them with careful concentration. Her tiny fingers trace each letter, violet eyes narrowed in focus.

"A is for apple, B is for..." She scrunches her nose. "Bubble?"

"That's right, sweetheart." I smooth a stray curl behind her ear. "You're picking this up so quickly."

Rose beams, rearranging the cards into new patterns. The morning sun streams through the window, catching the gold in her hair. These quiet moments feel precious after years of running.

"Mama, look! I can spell my name!" She points to the cards she's lined up. "R-O-S..."

"Almost." I guide her hand to the E card. "Don't forget this one at the end."

"R-O-S-E." Her face lights up. "Rose! That's me!"

Movement catches my eye. Dezoth stands in his study doorway, arms crossed but expression softer than usual. His intimidating height is somewhat diminished by the way he leans against the frame, watching Rose with unveiled interest.

"Would you like to see what I learned?" Rose scrambles up, gathering her cards. She practically bounces over to him, unafraid of his imposing presence.

"Show me." His deep voice carries across the room, but lacks its usual edge.

Rose spreads the cards at his feet. "This one's A, like apple. And this is B like bubble. And these spell my name!" Her small fingers point to each letter with pride.

"Impressive." Dezoth crouches down, bringing himself closer to her level, and I try to ignore how my heart flips at his soft smile. "You've learned all these already?"

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