Page 32 of Demon Daddy's Nanny

"Enough." My wings flare, casting shadows across the room.

She grits her teeth, glaring at me, and then she turns on her heel and storms away. The regret is instant, but I don’t know what to do. With either of them.

But even after Annalise leaves, her words echo. Eva's affected too. The thought sends heat coursing through my veins, makes my control slip further. I press my forehead against the cool glass of the window, but all I can think about is how Eva's lips had tasted of starlight and surrender.

Moonlight filtersthrough the high windows of my chambers, painting silver patterns across the ceiling. Sleep eludes me, replaced by the phantom sensation of Eva's lips against mine.My wings shift restlessly against the sheets, feathers rustling in the quiet dark.

I should regret it. Should hate myself for that moment of weakness in the courtyard. But lying here, alone with these thoughts, I can't summon the proper shame. Can't make myself wish I hadn't pulled her close, hadn't tasted the sweetness of her mouth.

My fingers trace the scar on my cheek, the familiar ridge a poor distraction from memories of how she'd trembled against me. How her hands had clutched at my shirt, desperate and wanting. The way her breath had hitched when I'd-

"Fuck." The word echoes in the emptiness of my room.

I roll onto my side, wings spreading across the massive bed. The sheets still smell of nothing but me - no trace of another's scent, no warmth but my own. The space beside me stretches vast and cold, mocking me with its emptiness.

My nails dig into the mattress. The taste of her haunts me, sweeter than wine, more intoxicating than any spirit. Each time I close my eyes, I see her face in the moonlight, feel the soft press of her body against mine.

The empty spot above my heart - where a soul bond should have been, would have been with Sera - tingles with phantom sensation. Empty. Waiting. My wings curl forward, wrapping around me like a shield, but they can't protect me from the ache in my chest, the pull toward something I can't allow myself to have.

I don't regret it. That's the truth that keeps me from sleeping, that makes my blood burn hot in my veins. I want more. Want to kiss her again, to claim her mouth properly this time. To mark her as mine, to complete what I started in that courtyard.

The thought sends heat coursing through me, dangerous and wild. My wings snap open, feathers bristling with unspentenergy. The ceiling offers no answers, just shadows and silence and the weight of everything I shouldn't want.

18

EVA

The kitchen knife slams into the cutting board, splitting the poor vegetable in two. Three days. Three damn days since Ridwan's lips crashed into mine in the courtyard, since his wings curled around us like a shield from the world, since his touch set my skin ablaze. And then - nothing.

I hack at another vegetable, not even caring what I'm cutting anymore. My movements are jerky, unpracticed, nothing like my usual precise methods. The other kitchen staff give me a wide berth, probably sensing the storm brewing beneath my skin.

"Everything alright, Eva?" Mari, one of the cooks, ventures.

"Perfect." The word comes out sharp enough to cut.

The memory burns fresh in my mind: the way Ridwan's golden eyes had darkened with desire, how his fingers had tangled in my hair, the low growl that rumbled through his chest. For one blissful moment, the walls he built around himself had crumbled. Then, like smoke through fingers, he vanished.

Now he skulks through the halls like a shadow, his massive wings tucked tight against his back. If I enter a room, he finds an excuse to leave. If I try to catch his eye, he looks away. The mighty xaphan lord, running from a mere human.

My chest aches, but I refuse to let the tears fall. I've spent too many years being invisible, being less than, to let this break me. But gods, I thought - hoped - he was different. That maybe, just maybe, the quiet moments we shared meant something. The way he'd seek me out in the evenings to discuss Annalise's progress. How his fingers would brush mine when passing documents. The rare smiles that seemed reserved just for me.

I drive the knife into another innocent vegetable. The sound echoes through the kitchen, and I realize my hands are shaking. Damn him. Damn me for being fool enough to believe a xaphan lord could see past my humanity. That he could want?—

The knife clatters to the counter. I can't do this. Can't keep pretending I'm fine while he treats me like I'm nothing more than a shadow to avoid.

"I need some air," I mutter, not waiting for a response before fleeing the kitchen.

I storm through the manor's halls, my footsteps echoing against floors. The guards posted at intervals tense as I pass, probably sensing the fury radiating off me in waves. Good. Let them feel it. Let everyone feel it.

My hand connects with the study door before my brain catches up to my actions. The heavy wood swings open with a bang that makes the nearest guard jump.

Ridwan sits at his desk, golden wings folded tight against his broad back. Papers scatter across the dark wood surface, illuminated by crystal lamps that cast dancing shadows across his bronze skin. He doesn't look up.

"Are you really going to pretend that didn't happen?" The words burst from my chest like caged birds finally breaking free. My arms cross over my chest, fingers digging into my biceps to keep from shaking.

His quill pauses mid-stroke. A drop of ink bleeds onto the parchment below, spreading like a stain. Still, he won't meet my eyes.

"Eva—" His deep voice carries a warning.

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