Page 44 of The Demon's Little Girl
My jaw clenches at his words, partly because they hit too close to home. "She ran once. What makes you think she won't do it again?"
The question tastes bitter on my tongue, but it's the fear that keeps me awake at night. The terror that if I push too hard, move too fast, she'll disappear again. And this time, I might not be lucky enough to find her.
"You think that's why she left?" Avenor's voice gentles slightly, losing some of its edge. "Because of something you did?"
"I don't know why she left." The admission scrapes against my throat like broken glass. "She won't tell me, and I can't force her. But whatever it was, it sent her running for two years. I won't be responsible for making her feel that desperate again."
We ride in silence for a while, the only sounds the rhythmic hoofbeats and the distant cry of black pitter birds wheeling overhead. My mind churns through the same questions that have been haunting me since she returned. What drove her away? Who is Nalla's father? Why did she look at me with such careful distance when I first saw her again?
"I don't know why she left either," Avenor says finally, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. "But I know she's different now. Older. Stronger. And I know she's not the same woman who ran away in the middle of the night."
"What if I'm not worth the risk to her?" The question slips out before I can stop it, revealing more vulnerability than I'm comfortable with. "What if she stayed away because she realized she deserved better?"
Avenor actually laughs at that, the sound harsh in the afternoon air. "Better than you? Rovak, you're an idiot if you believe that."
"I'm a demon. A trader who deals in violence when necessary. She's..." I struggle for words that can encompass everything Liora is. "She's gentle. Kind. She sees good in things that don't deserve it."
"She sees good in you."
The simple statement lands like a blow, stirring up emotions I'd rather keep buried. Because it's true—somehow, inexplicably, Liora has always looked at me without fear. Even in those early days when she was just another human servant, she'd met my gaze directly, spoken to me without the cowering deference most showed.
"She used to," I correct quietly. "Before whatever happened to make her leave."
"She still does." Avenor's certainty grates against my doubts. "Rovak, the way she looks at you when she thinks no one's watching... it's like you hung the moon."
Hope flares in my chest before I can stamp it down. Hope is a dangerous thing when it comes to Liora. It makes me want to believe in possibilities that might not exist.
"Even if that's true, pushing her too fast could destroy whatever trust we've rebuilt. I won't risk it."
"So what's your plan? Pine after her for another decade while pretending you don't want to bury yourself so deep inside her you forget your own name?"
The crude imagery hits like a punch to the gut, making my cock twitch against my thigh. Because he's right—I do want that. Want to claim every inch of her, to make her mine in every way that matters. The hunger for her has only grown stronger since she's been back, fed by stolen moments and careful touches that never go far enough.
"My plan is to be patient. To let her set the pace."
"And if the pace she sets is glacial?"
I don't have an answer for that. Can't admit that the thought of spending years in this careful dance of restraint might actually kill me. Every morning at breakfast when she smiles at me over her tea, every evening when she lets me help put Nalla to bed, every accidental touch that sends fire racing through my veins—it's slowly driving me insane.
The estate comes into view as we crest the final hill, its dark stone walls rising against the sky like a fortress. Home. Where Liora and Nalla are waiting, probably in the garden or Liora's room. The knowledge that they're there, safe and within reach, settles something restless in my chest.
"Just... think about what I said," Avenor murmurs as we approach the gates. "Life's too short to waste on noble suffering."
I grunt noncommittally, but his words follow me as we enter the courtyard and hand our mounts over to the stable hands. The familiar routine of returning from business should ground me, but instead I find myself scanning the windows for a glimpse of mahogany curls or listening for Nalla's bright laughter.
There—in the garden. I can hear Liora's voice carried on the breeze, light and warm in a way that makes my chest tight. Without conscious decision, my feet carry me in that direction,drawn by the magnetic pull that's existed between us since long before I was willing to acknowledge it.
I find them on the grass beneath the old kirral tree, Nalla babbling excitedly as she chases a thalivern that's dancing just out of her reach. Her tiny legs pump with determination, pale gold eyes bright with joy as she lurches after her prey. Liora sits nearby, ready to catch her if she falls, but giving her the freedom to explore.
The sight of them together—my girls, though I have no right to think of them that way—hits me with devastating force. This is what I could have, what I've been dreaming of without admitting it to myself. A life. A family. Everything I never thought I wanted until I met her.
Liora looks up as my shadow falls across the grass, and the smile that spreads across her face is like sunlight breaking through clouds. No fear, no hesitation—just genuine pleasure at seeing me.
"You're back early."
"The negotiations went quicker than expected." I lower myself to the grass beside her, close enough to catch her scent but not so close as to crowd her. "How has your day been?"
"Good. Nalla discovered she can climb onto the garden benches, so that's been an adventure."
