Page 21 of The Minotaur's Nanny Bride

Dex's eyes light up. "Any kuruk steel?"

"Two pieces. Premium price, of course."

While they talk, I hang back slightly, bouncing gently to keep Ellis asleep. My eyes drift to Dex's hands as he lifts a dagger from the display. His fingers—massive by human standards but surprisingly dexterous—curl around the hilt with practiced ease. The merchant passes him another blade, this one with an ornate handle inlaid with copper that matches the highlights in Dex's fur.

There's something mesmerizing about watching his hands work. The careful way he tests the balance, the strength evident in every controlled movement. He handles these deadly weapons with the same gentle precision I've seen him use when checking Ellis's tiny horns for irritation.

My throat feels suddenly dry. I shouldn't be noticing these things—the breadth of his shoulders as he leans forward to examine the blade's edge, the rumble of his laugh when the smith says something I can't quite hear. I shouldn't care about how steady he is on his hooves, how his brow furrows slightly when he concentrates, how the marketplace seems to shrink around his imposing frame.

I shouldn't be thinking about how, in just a few short weeks, he's transformed from a panicked, helpless new guardian into someone who can cradle an infant with one arm while preparing breakfast with the other. Someone who remembers which herbs soothe Ellis's stomach and which cloth he prefers for his morning bath.

Someone who looks increasingly right standing beside me.

A bizarre heat creeps up my neck as I realize I've been staring. I shift my attention to a nearby fruit vendor, pretending interest in their display of mueske.

"The grip could be better," Dex says, turning the dagger in his hand. His fingers trail over the hilt, testing its contours. "But the balance is perfect."

He looks up suddenly, his green eyes finding mine across the short distance between us. Something in his gaze makes my breath catch—an intensity, a question, something thick and unspoken that neither of us seems ready to name.

For one suspended moment, the marketplace noise fades to background. It's just us, connected by this strange, unexpected thread that's formed in the chaos of new parenthood and midnight feedings and learning to be something to each other that neither of us planned.

Dex breaks first, clearing his throat and returning the dagger to the merchant's table. He rubs the back of his neck, a gesture I've come to recognize as discomfort.

"Let's head back," he says, voice gruffer than usual. "Ellis will need feeding soon."

I exhale slowly, steadying myself. The moment passes, reality reasserts itself. This arrangement is temporary. Professional. I'm helping him until he finds a permanent solution for Ellis. That's all.

This isn't supposed to feel like this.

But as we turn away from the weapons stall, my basket in his hands, his shoulder occasionally brushing mine as we navigate the crowd, I can't help but wonder what exactly "this" is becoming.

13

DEX

The house is silent except for the rhythmic creak of the rocking chair. I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching as Maya cradles Ellis, her thumb stroking his tiny back. The soft glow from the fireplace bathes her in warm light, making her silver-blonde hair look almost golden. She doesn't know I'm watching—at least, not at first.

Gods, it's the first time Ellis hasn't been screaming in what feels like days. It's been a rough few days, and neither of us have been sure why.

My shoulders are still tense from the hours of walking and bouncing and pleading with a child who can't understand me. But Maya? She just picked him up and he settled right into her arms like he was meant to be there.

She hums some tune I don't recognize, something soft and melodic. Her lips barely move, but I can see the corner of them turned up in a small smile. Practical Maya with her no-nonsense attitude, melting for a tiny minotaur with barely-there horns.

"Come on, little one," she whispers to Ellis. "Your uncle needs a break from your lungs. I know you miss her. I know."

The tenderness in her voice catches me off guard. I've been so caught up in the logistics—the feeding, the changing, the not sleeping—that I haven't allowed myself to think about what Ellis must be feeling. How terrifying it must be to suddenly lose the person who was your entire world.

Ellis makes a small noise, not quite a cry, just a confirmation that he's listening. Maya adjusts her hold, moving him so his head rests against her heart. Her scar—that jagged line across her right hand—stands out as she supports his weight. Battle scars from the herb trade, she called it jokingly the first day. Only learned later it came from saving a minotaur child from a workshop fire. She never mentioned being disowned for it.

"There's a big world out here," Maya continues, "and it's scary sometimes. But your uncle Dex? He's loud and obnoxious and thinks he's funnier than he is, but he's got a good heart. He's going to keep you safe."

I should be offended, but honestly, it's the nicest thing anyone's said about me all week. Even if she doesn't know I'm hearing it.

The firelight dances across her face, highlighting the determined set of her jaw that somehow doesn't detract from her beauty. She's not conventionally pretty in the way that minotaur women are—all curves and softness. Maya's angles and purpose, her silver-blonde hair cropped short for practicality rather than style. And yet, it all draws me in. She looks stunning, even tired from helping with my nephew, like she always does.

My family would have hated her. Not because she's human—though there's that—but because she doesn't pretend. Doesn't soften her edges. Mother always insisted women should be seen, admired, and controlled. Maya looks like she's never been controlled a day in her life. And I don't want it any other way.

I shift my weight, and the floorboard betrays me with a creak. Maya looks up, her gray eyes finding mine instantly. For a moment, neither of us moves. Ellis sleeps on, oblivious to the strange tension suddenly filling the room.

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