Page 46 of Monster's Secret Baby

HARMONY

Iwatch Brooke skip ahead along the garden path, her curls bouncing with each step. She wears a butter-yellow dress that swings around her knees, one I mended three times where she caught it climbing the old oak behind Marda's. The morning light catches in her hair, turning it almost white-gold—just like her father's.

"Dell! Look what I found!" She crouches, tiny fingers careful as she cups something I can't see.

Adellum appears from around the herb beds where he's been helping me weed. He moves with that liquid grace that always made my breath catch, sunlight glinting off his bronze skin. He crouches beside her, massive gray wings folding elegantly behind him.

"What treasure have you discovered, little bird?" His voice drops to a conspirator's whisper, as if nothing in the world matters more than whatever rests in her small palms.

"It's hurt." Brooke's face crumples with concern as she reveals a tiny thalivern, one of its iridescent wings bent at an unnatural angle.

I find myself moving closer despite my resolve to keep my distance. These moments of witnessing them together still feel like walking on ice that might crack beneath me.

Adellum's face turns serious as he studies the creature. "May I?"

Brooke nods solemnly and transfers the fluttering thing to his much larger hands. His fingers—artist's hands, capable of such delicate work—cradle the thalivern with impossible gentleness.

"Watch carefully," he tells her. "This is healing magic. Very special."

I lean against the garden fence, arms crossed over my chest, telling myself I'm just supervising. Not that I'm drawn to him still, to the careful way he teaches her.

A subtle glow emanates from between his fingers, soft white light spilling out like water. Brooke's eyes widen, reflecting the magic's shimmer.

"Is it hard?" she whispers.

"Not when you care enough." His eyes flick up to mine for just a second, and something lurches in my chest. "Intent matters more than power, remember that."

When he opens his hands, the thalivern's wings flutter perfectly, all four of them catching the light before it zips away toward the flowering vines.

"I want to try!" Brooke bounces on her toes.

"Let's start with something simpler today." He produces a small candle from his pocket—he's always prepared for these impromptu lessons. "Remember how we practiced?"

Brooke's face scrunches in concentration as she positions her fingers just so. I've watched this particular lesson for days now, her tiny attempts growing more controlled each time.

"Gentle breath, focused mind," Adellum reminds her.

She snaps her fingers, and a spark—golden like her eyes—leaps to the wick. The candle flares to life and Brooke squeals in delight.

"Mama! I did it!"

"I saw, sweetheart." I can't help but smile. "That was wonderful."

Adellum's eyes meet mine over our daughter's head. There's something raw in his expression, something that makes me look away first.

"What else can I learn?" Brooke tugs at his sleeve.

"Hmm." He taps his chin theatrically. "How about we call the wind?"

"Yes!" She claps.

He stands behind her, showing her how to position her arms. "Like this. Feel the air around you, then invite it closer."

I watch as they move in unison, his massive form somehow gentle as he guides her. When they sweep their arms upward, a breeze rushes through the garden, lifting Brooke's curls and tugging at her dress. She laughs, delighted by her power.

"Again!" she demands, and he obliges.

I find myself smiling despite everything. There are moments like this—Adellum scooping her onto his shoulders so she can reach the apples in Marda's orchard, or the way he crouches to carefully tie the laces on her boots—when I see echoes of the man I fell for. The artist with hands that could shape beauty from nothing, the man whose laugh used to unlock something wild in my chest.

---