Page 17 of The Minotaur's Nanny Bride

"Sit," Lyra commands, already moving to the small stove in the corner. "When's the last time you took a moment for yourself?"

"I take plenty of moments," I protest, but sink into the worn wooden chair anyway. It's the truth. Dex won't let me help with Ellis at night so I do get more rest than he does. The weight of Ellis against me has become so natural that I barely notice it anymore. "I'm fine, Lyra."

Lyra throws me a look over her shoulder as she sets the kettle on to boil. "You have shadows under your eyes."

"Those are just my natural good looks," I quip, but when I absently reach up to touch my face, I can feel the tired puffiness beneath my eyes.

While Lyra busies herself with the tea preparation, I watch her efficient movements. She's always been this way—nurturing but precise, no motion wasted. It's what makes her such an excellent healer. And now she's carrying a child—half minotaur, half human. The thought makes me glance down at Ellis, his soft breaths steady against me.

"Here," Lyra says, setting two steaming cups on the table. The rich scent of mint and honey rises between us, familiar and comforting. "Gankoya root for energy. You clearly need it."

I accept the cup with a nod of thanks, careful not to disturb Ellis as I shift to sip the hot liquid. The silence stretches between us, comfortable and worn like an old blanket. I can almost pretend this is like old times, back when we were just two apprentice healers learning our craft together.

But the weight against my chest is a constant reminder that things are different now.

Lyra studies me over the rim of her cup, her green eyes thoughtful. Her gaze drops to Ellis, then back to my face.

"You've always been practical," she says, voice softer now. "You don't get attached."

I stare at the dark liquid in my cup, watching the tiny particles of herbs swirl in lazy patterns. The words shouldn't sting, but they do. Is that how she sees me? How everyone sees me? The practical one, the one who keeps her distance?

Lyra sets her cup down gently, the ceramic making a soft click against the wooden table. "But you're different now."

I scoff, leaning back in my chair, one hand automatically moving to support Ellis's back. "Because I'm taking care of a baby?"

"No." Lyra watches me carefully, her expression gentle but unflinching. "Because you care about him. Both of them. And I don't want you to get hurt."

I don't respond immediately. My fingers trace absent patterns on Ellis's back, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. Her words hit too close to home, brushing against something raw and tender I've been trying to ignore.

Instead, I think about how hard it was for Lyra at first—balancing her relationship with Theron, navigating the cultural differences, the stares and whispers from both humans and minotaur. She fought for that love, embraced the complications. I've watched her struggle and triumph, seen the joy it's brought her.

But that's not for me. I've built my life carefully, intentionally. My herb farm. My shop. My independence. A relationship—especially one as complicated as caring for a minotaur merchant and his orphaned nephew—isn't part of that plan.

Lyra leans in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Be careful, Maya. Because when this ends, you're the one who's going to break."

I swallow hard, the tea suddenly bitter on my tongue despite the honey. My scar—the one that cost me my family and former life—itches on my right hand, a physical reminder of what happens when I follow my heart instead of my head.

But I don't deny Lyra's words. Because deep down, beneath all my practiced practicality and careful distance, I know she's right.

I've watched Ellis's tiny face scrunch up when he yawns. I've felt the weight of Dex's grateful smile when I showed him how to mix the formula properly. I've started to look forward to our chaotic evenings together, to the quiet moments when the house is still and it's just me rocking Ellis while Dex dozes in the chair nearby.

I'm getting attached. To both of them.

And I have absolutely no idea what to do about it.

11

DEX

Istep through the front door, my hooves scuffing against the worn welcome mat—a touch I never bothered with before Ellis came into my life. My shoulders ache from hunching over ledgers all afternoon at the trading post.

I've been trying to ease back into work, just a few hours here and there while Maya handles Ellis. After a month of this arrangement, and I'm still not sure which part of my day I look forward to more—the familiar rhythm of commerce or coming home to... this.

The house envelops me in warmth, nothing like the empty space it used to be. A sweet, herbal scent hangs in the air—something Maya brewed, no doubt. The woman has filled my kitchen with jars and bundles I couldn't name if my life depended on it. But they make the place smell alive, and I find myself inhaling deeply.

Before I can announce myself, a high-pitched squeal cuts through the calm. That sound—unmistakable, impossible to ignore. Ellis. My heart does that strange little leap it's been doing lately whenever I hear him.

I follow the sound to the sitting room where Maya stands swaying, her practical silver-blonde hair catching the late afternoon light. She's holding Ellis against her chest, but the little one's attention is entirely on me. His tiny arms flail wildly, tawny fur just a shade lighter than mine, those gold eyes—Iris' eyes—wide with recognition and excitement.

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