Page 24 of Demon Daddy's Nanny

But my voice carries the edge of steel when I speak. "Leave."

He bolts, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to escape. The door slams behind him, echoing through my office.

I remain standing, wings spread wide, fighting to contain the protective fury coursing through my veins. The crumpled report falls from my hand. Eva's face flashes through my mind – her quiet strength, her gentle way with Annalise. She's earned her place here, proven herself a hundred times over.

And yet fools like that messenger still see only what they want to see.

Heading back inside, I pace the confines of my office, wings twitching with restless energy. The messenger's words echo, each repetition stoking the ember of rage in my chest. Pet. As if Eva were some docile creature to be kept on a leash.

My fist connects with the stone wall. Pain shoots through my knuckles, but I welcome it – better than dwelling on thoughts of her. Of the way she moves through the halls with quiet grace. How she meets my gaze without flinching, speaks her mind without the simpering deference others show.

No. I can't think of her amber eyes or the curve of her smile. Can't acknowledge how my wings spread wider when she enters a room, how my body gravitates toward her presence.

I snatch up another report, but the words blur together. Instead, I see Eva in the garden with Annalise, their heads bent close as they study. Eva's fingers trailing over ancient texts, her voice steady as she explains complex theories. The way she challenges my daughter's quick mind, nurtures her curiosity instead of stifling it.

A growl builds in my throat. Eva has earned every scrap of respect she commands. She's not some temporary amusement or status symbol. She's...

The thought dies unfinished. Because finishing it means acknowledging the heat that floods my veins when she's near. Means admitting that somewhere between hiring her as Annalise's companion and now, she's become essential. Like air. Like blood.

My wings snap out, knocking papers from the desk. The golden feathers catch the light, a reminder of everything I am. Everything she isn't.

I shouldn't notice how her hair catches the sunlight. Shouldn't track her movements through my home. Shouldn't feel this possessive fury at anyone dismissing her worth.

But I do. And that truth burns hotter than any rage.

I miss dinner. I spend so much time in my study, trying to work and not working, that it’s late by the time I decide to leave. Not to eat or sleep - neither are appealing - but I need tomove.

Moonlight streams through tall windows, casting silver patterns across floors. My footsteps echo, wings brushing stone walls that feel closer than usual tonight.

I reach Eva's door and freeze mid-stride. Light seeps beneath the wooden frame, a warm glow that means she's still awake. My wings twitch, spreading slightly before I force them still. The urge to knock pulses through my body like a second heartbeat.

What would she do if I did? Would she open the door with that soft smile that makes my chest ache? Or would I see fear in those amber eyes, finally realizing what kind of monster lurks beneath my careful control?

My hand lifts, hovers near the smooth wood. One knock. That's all it would take to shatter this fragile peace we've built. To unleash the hunger that claws at my insides whenever she's near.

No. I can't. Won't.

I force my feet to move, each step away from her door a battle against instinct. My wings snap out, nearly spanning the corridor's width. The need to turn back, to claim what every fiber of my being screams is mine, burns through my veins like molten gold.

The walls press too close. The air grows thick, heavy with unspoken desires. I need space. Need to breathe without her scent clouding my thoughts.

My pace quickens toward the courtyard. Maybe the night air will cool this fever in my blood. Maybe distance will dull the memory of her door, of knowing she sleeps just beyond it, unaware of the war she's sparked inside me.

But even as I stride through shadowed halls, my wings remain half-spread, ready to turn back at the slightest provocation. Ready to damn us both.

13

EVA

The stone halfway bites into my palms as I lean against it in the courtyard, letting the night air wash over my heated skin. Stars glitter above New Solas like scattered diamonds, their light casting strange shadows across the golden spires that pierce the darkness. Below, the city sprawls in terraced layers, magical lamps flickering like fallen stars.

My breath catches as I remember the way Ridwan's wings had cast shadows across the hallway wall earlier, how his golden eyes had fixed on my mouth before he'd turned away. The memory burns, much like the lingering scent of cinnamon and honey from our failed baking lesson days ago.

I close my eyes, but it only makes the image sharper - his broad frame crowding me against the counter, flour dusting his bronze skin, the way his fingers had brushed mine as I'd shown him how to knead dough. I’ve replayed that almost kiss so many times that it’s endlessly playing behind my eyes at this point.

But then I remember the way he'd pulled away, wings snapping tight against his back, leaving nothing but cold air and unspoken words between us.

Now he barely looks at me, except for moments like today when our paths cross in the endless halls. The weight of his gaze follows me, heavy with something I'm afraid to name.

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