Page 13 of Demon Daddy's Nanny

But I don't. Because she's right - I've trained myself to only react when she rebels. It was easier than facing the guilt, the grief, the fear of failing her like I failed her mother.

I retreat from the garden door, my footsteps silent against the floor. Eva's words echo in my mind, each one a thorn digging deeper. The halls of my wing stretch before me, all gleaming gold and crystal, but they've never felt more like a prison.

Hours later, I sit at the head of our formal dining table, the space between Annalise and me a gulf wider than the Aerasak sea. Candlelight flickers across the elaborate place settings, casting shadows that dance across her face. She pushes food around her plate, her wings pulled tight against her back - a defensive posture I recognize all too well. It doesn’t help that Eva didn’t join us tonight - though I’m not sure why.

My throat feels raw. Words pile up behind my teeth, choking me. "The blood roses are blooming early this year."

Her fork pauses mid-motion. Silver eyes flick up to mine, surprise evident in their pale depths. "They are?"

"I noticed them from my study window." I force myself to hold her gaze. "The ones your mother planted."

Color floods her cheeks. She sets down her fork, her fingers trembling slightly. "You... you remember which ones those were?"

"The white and crimson varieties, near the eastern fountain." My wings shift restlessly. "She used to say they reminded her of sunrise."

A small smile tugs at her lips - not her usual sharp smirk, but something softer, more genuine. "I didn't know you paid attention to the gardens."

"I pay attention to more than you might think." The words come out rougher than intended. I clear my throat. "I saw you there today, with Eva."

Tension ripples across her shoulders. "Come to tell me I'm wasting time that could be spent on combat training?"

"No." I set down my knife, the silver clinking against fine porcelain. "I thought... perhaps you could tell me what you were learning."

Her eyes go wide, catching the candlelight like mirrors. For a moment, she looks so much like Sera it steals my breath. "Really?"

I nod, not trusting my voice.

"Eva was teaching me how to fold pastry dough." The words tumble out in a rush, like she's afraid I'll change my mind. "I'm terrible at it, but she says practice helps and-" She stops, watching me warily. "You actually want to hear about this?"

"Yes." I force my wings to relax, trying to appear less imposing. "I do."

The smile that breaks across her face is like watching the sun rise.

It’s the first dinner that has been…nice in so long. And by the time we finish, Annalise looks actually happy to be near me. I watch after her long after she leaves the dining room, and I find myself wondering how Eva is managing to bring us closer.

I’m not even surprised when I find myself outside of Eva's door instead of my study. Not that I have any right to her, and I should give her her own privacy. I just…keep finding myself drawn to her.

I shift my weight as I stand outside the door, uncertain of what to do, my wings casting long shadows in the dim hallway light. The carved wood gleams like liquid gold, mocking my indecision. My hand lifts, hovers near the surface. What would I even say? Thank you for showing my daughter the kindness I couldn't? For teaching me how badly I've failed?

The scent of meadowmint tea and fresh-baked bread drifts through the gap beneath her door. So different from the metallic tang of battle or the musty pages of reports that fill my days. My enhanced hearing picks up soft humming - an old lullaby I haven't heard since Sera...

My wings snap tight against my back. The comparison unsettles me. Eva is nothing like Sera. Where my late love was all sharp edges and fierce pride, Eva radiates a quiet strength. Her hands create rather than destroy. Her amber eyes see through pretense with unnerving clarity.

A floorboard creaks beneath my weight. The humming stops. I step back, my heart thundering against my ribs with a force that surprises me. When did this human baker start affecting me like this? When did her presence begin to feel like more than just an oddity in my carefully ordered world?

My scar throbs - a warning. The last time I let someone past my defenses, it ended in ashes. I can't afford such weaknessagain. My position demands focus, control, dedication to duty above all else. Even if this isn’t a battle and Eva isn’t someone I have to defeat, I can’t let my guard down.

But Eva's earlier words echo in my mind. "Sometimes people get stuck in patterns they don't know how to break."

I turn away from her door, my wings rustling with agitation. The stone corridors feel colder than usual as I stride toward my chambers. Or perhaps it's just the growing awareness that Eva has somehow slipped past my carefully constructed walls without me noticing. The realization sits like ice in my chest - dangerous, sharp-edged, impossible to ignore.

Sleep will not come easily tonight.

7

EVA

The stone floors chill my bare feet as I pad through the darkened halls of the estate. Moonlight filters through towering windows, casting long shadows that dance across gilded walls. My stomach growls, reminding me why I left my warm bed in the first place.

---