Page 38 of Monster's Secret Baby

"Years you could have been with someone else. Someone appropriate." Her voice is tight, and I would kill to know what is going on in her head.

But she keeps me shut out, driving me mad and stirring my anger until I'm tempted to punish her for it, to make her see that she is mine and always has been.

The geode in my pocket digs into my thigh as I shift position, and I squeeze it in my palm, its edges grounding me. "There's only ever been you, Harmony."

She looks away, but I catch the tremor in her jaw. "I don't want to talk about this."

I hold back a sigh as I place the seeds on the ground between us. "These are just seeds, Harmony. Take them or don't."

But we both know they're not just seeds. They're another thread I'm weaving, binding her life back to mine.

She takes them, finally. "Thank you," she says stiffly.

I nod and stand, brushing dirt from my knees. My wings shift behind me, adjusting to the movement. "I have something else arriving tomorrow. A set of copper measuring cups from Shozuh. The handles are carved with protective sigils—they'll stay cool even over a flame."

Her eyes narrow. "Adellum?—"

"The pottery set you use has a crack in the largest cup. I've seen you compensate for it when you're baking."

"You can't just?—"

"I can, actually." I let my wings spread slightly, a reminder of what I am, of the power that runs through my veins. Not to frighten her—never that—but to remind her of the intensity that's always simmered between us. "I'm not hiding anymore, little bird. Not who I am, not what I want."

She stands too, facing me squarely despite being nearly a foot shorter. "And what exactly is it that you want? To disrupt the life I've built? To confuse Brooke? To?—"

"To reclaim what's mine," I say softly, cutting her off. "You. Brooke. This chance we should have had."

The twilight casts long shadows across her garden, painting her skin gold and bronze. She's so close I can smell the herbs on her fingers, the faint trace of meadowmint tea on her breath.

"I'm not yours," she whispers, but there's a hitch in her voice that betrays her.

I smile then, slow and sure, enjoying the way her pupils dilate in response. "Fight me if you want," I murmur, letting my voice drop to match the growing darkness around us. "But you'll lose."

I'm taking a step back to leave—I've learned not to overstay my welcome—when I hear the patter of small feet and a high-pitched squeal that sends a jolt through my chest.

"Dell! Dell! You're here!"

Brooke barrels around the corner of the garden, all wild energy and flailing limbs, her pale-blond curls bouncing with each step. My body reacts before my mind can catch up, wings tucking tight against my back as I drop to one knee and open my arms just in time for her to crash into me.

"Little bird," I murmur against her hair, breathing in that peculiar scent of childhood—soap and dirt and something uniquely sweet. My arms encircle her small frame, and I marvel at how perfectly she fits there, how right she feels. She might not be mine, but everything about Harmony was always meant for me.

Even her daughter.

I catch Harmony's eyes over Brooke's head. Her face is a battleground of emotions—fear, anger, and something else I can't quite name. Or perhaps won't let myself name yet.

"You promised to show me the lightning bugs today," Brooke says, pulling back to fix me with those enormous silver eyes—my eyes, though neither of us acknowledge it aloud. "You didn't forget, did you?"

"I never forget a promise," I tell her solemnly. I rise to my feet, lifting her with me, and spin her around once, then twice, her delighted laughter cutting through the evening air like bells. "Especially not promises to princesses."

"I'm not a princess," she giggles, but her small hands grip my shoulders tightly, trusting me completely despite knowing me for only a few weeks. The weight of that trust is almost unbearable.

"Says who? You look like royalty to me." I set her down gently, keeping one hand on her shoulder as I glance at Harmony. "I'm going to show her the thaliverns. We won't go far." I give her the illusion of an option.

Harmony's jaw works back and forth. I can almost hear her thoughts—the need to protect Brooke warring with the knowledge that I can teach her daughter things about magic that no one else in this village can.

"Please, Mama?" Brooke wheedles, bouncing on her toes. When Harmony hesitates, tiny golden sparks dance from Brooke's fingertips, a manifestation of her excitement that makes my heart swell with pride. Such natural talent, untamed and beautiful.

"Fine," Harmony relents, her shoulders dropping slightly. "But stay within sight of the garden, please."

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