Page 4 of Demon Daddy's Little Girl

"Up we go, little one." I adjust Rose in my arms as we navigate the quieter streets. She's created a small constellation of sparkles that dance around my head, giggling each time I pretend to catch one.

"You're good with her," her mother murmurs, surprise coloring her tone.

"Children are rare treasures." The words slip out before I can stop them, memories of another child - one that never drew breath - threatening to surface. I push them aside. "Especially ones with such remarkable gifts."

I lead them through winding alleyways, choosing paths that offer multiple escape routes should we encounter trouble. Rose hums softly against my chest, still completely at ease despite her mother's obvious distress. The weight of her tiny form stirs memories I'd rather keep buried.

"Your sparkles are getting better," Rose declares, creating another shower of light that dances around my head.

"Those are your sparkles, little one." I duck beneath a low-hanging sign, angling my body to shield her from the rough edges.

"No, yours! See?" She points to where her magic reflects off my insignia, creating scattered patterns across the alley walls. "They dance with mine."

Her mother's sharp intake of breath draws my attention. She's keeping pace but maintaining careful distance, her steps light and ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. Her eyes never leave her daughter, even as she tracks our surroundings with practiced vigilance.

"We're nearly there." I gesture toward a less-traveled side street. "This route ensures privacy."

"Why should we trust you?" Her voice carries steel beneath the fear.

"Because I haven't summoned the rest of the guard." I meet her gaze steadily. "And because your daughter's eyes mark her as someone who needs protection, not persecution."

Rose tugs at my hair cord, completely absorbed in her own world. "Your hair is pretty. Like night time."

"Thank you, little one." I adjust her weight as we round another corner. "Though I believe your mother's is far lovelier."

"Mama's is like sunshine!" Rose agrees enthusiastically. "And mine is both! She says that my papa said-" She cuts off abruptly as her mother makes a pained sound.

The silence that follows feels heavy with unspoken grief. I recognize that particular weight all too well.

Once we finally make it to the edge of the city, I guide them through the back entrance of my home, ensuring no prying eyes follow our arrival. The door seals shut with a whisper of protective magic, and some of the tension leaves my shoulders. Here, at least, we can speak freely.

"You're safe for now." I set Rose down gently, though she keeps hold of my sleeve. "No one followed us, and my wards will alert me to any unwanted visitors."

The woman positions herself between Rose and me, her movements fluid but purposeful. Up close, I can see the exhaustion etched into her face, the way her simple dress hangs loose on her frame. She's been running for longer than anyone should have to.

"I'm Captain Dezoth Blackwood. But you can call me Dezoth." I step back, giving her space while keeping my posture open. "And you are?"

"Ada." She lifts her chin, brown eyes sharp despite her obvious fatigue. "Ada Pierce. And you've met Rose."

Rose peeks around her mother's skirts, violet eyes bright. "Your house feels warm. Like blankets."

"That's the protection wards." I find myself smiling despite the gravity of the situation. "They keep the bad things out."

"Like the men following us?" Rose asks innocently.

Ada's fingers curl into fists. "Rose, hush."

The protective instinct that sparked in the market roars to life. "How long have you been running?"

"Why do you care?" Ada's voice could cut steel. "We've managed fine on our own."

"Mama's tired, though," Rose pipes up. "She cries when she thinks I'm sleeping."

"Rose!" Ada drops to one knee, gathering her daughter close. The motion exposes a thin scar along her collarbone, and something dark twists in my gut at the sight.

"I care because that child carries demon blood, and someone clearly wants to exploit that." I keep my voice level, though rage simmers beneath the surface. Maybe it's my personal history, but I'm wound up by the way the half-demon children are beingtreated throughout the city. "I'm offering sanctuary, nothing more."

Ada's eyes meet mine, searching for deception. "And what do you want in return?"

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