Page 33 of Monster's Secret Baby

I pull Brooke against me, positioning myself between them. Up close, I can see the changes time has wrought on him more clearly. Tiny scars I don't recognize mark his face and hands. The unruly white-blond hair I once ran my fingers through is cropped shorter, emphasizing the sharpness of his features. He's still beautiful—painfully so—but it's a beauty that's been tempered in fire, all softness burned away.

He looks deadly. Which is what he is to me.

"Mama?" Brooke tugs at my skirt. "Who is he?"

Before I can answer, Adellum crouches to her eye level, ignoring my protective stance. His massive wings fold against his back, making him appear smaller, less threatening—a deliberate manipulation that I recognize from our early meetings.

"I'm someone who's been looking for your mama for a very long time, little bird." His voice gentles, but his eyes remain fixed on mine, challenging. "And now that I've found you, I'm not going anywhere."

I tighten my grip on Brooke. I cannot trust this new, hardened Adellum. Not with my heart, and certainly not with our daughter.

16

ADELLUM

Morning arrives with weak sunlight filtering through low clouds. I don't need to check the time; I've been awake for hours. The restaurant opens at dawn. Harmony will be there.

A smile starts to curve into my mouth. Now that she knows I'm here, a cruel amusement has started to take root in my chest. She thought she could run from me? Not anymore. I'll get her back—even if it's by force.

And her daughter—Brooke. She reminds me of everything good about Harmony. She pulls out the pieces of me that I was certain her mother stole, reminds me that somewhere deep there must be some good left in me.

I don't care if she isn't mine. I'm intent on claiming them both.

I position myself by the restaurant's entrance before the first customer arrives. The limestone door frame is cool against my shoulder, and I lean there, waiting. Waiting like I've been waiting for five years, except now the waiting has purpose.

The door opens, and there she is—Harmony, her hair tied back with a faded scarf, already flushed from the kitchen heat. She freezes when she sees me.

"Good morning," I say, keeping my voice light, casual. As if I haven't searched every corner of New Solas for her. As if I haven't destroyed relationships, wealth, reputation—everything in my relentless hunt.

Her eyes narrow. "We're not open yet."

"I'm not here for food."

"Then you're wasting your time."

Gods, she's beautiful when she's angry. The gold flecks in her eyes catch the morning light, turning them almost amber.

"You're here!"

A tiny blur bursts from behind Harmony's skirts. Brooke barrels into the space between us, her nightdress hastily covered with a little apron, curls flying wild around her face. My heart stops at how excited she is to see me—even though I know I mean nothing to her, not yet. She barely knows me.

"Good morning, little bird." I crouch down to her level, wings adjusting behind me for balance. "Did you practice what I showed you yesterday?"

Her silver eyes widen with excitement. "Watch this!"

She holds out her palm, scrunches her face in concentration, and a tiny golden spark flickers above her finger. It's crude magic, barely controlled, but pride fills me so completely I can barely breathe.

"Magnificent." I reach out, brush a curl from her forehead. "You're a natural, just like?—"

"Brooke, inside. Now." Harmony's voice cuts between us, sharp as a blade.

The child looks between us, confusion clouding her expression. "But Mama?—"

"Now, Brooke."

I straighten, meeting Harmony's gaze over Brooke's head. "Let her stay. I can show her how to control the spark so it doesn't burn her fingers."

"You've shown her enough."

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