Page 47 of Demon Daddy's Baby Girl

"You're not my master." The words come out stronger than I feel. "I don't belong to you."

"Don't you?" His fingers twitch, almost lazy.

Pain explodes in my limbs. It's like being submerged in fire, like every nerve ending is being pulled apart. I try to scream, but my voice dies in my throat. Magic—his magic—coils around my chest, my wrists, invisible but suffocating. My feet leave the ground as the spell tightens.

I struggle against it, muscles straining, but my body won't obey. I'm paralyzed, suspended in his magical grip, helpless.

The world blurs through tears of pain and terror. All I can think is: Sephy. My baby. She needs me.

Kaelith steps closer, his face swimming into focus. He reaches out, brushes a strand of hair from my face with mock tenderness.

"I missed you," he murmurs, his breath hot against my cheek. "Did you think you could hide forever? That I wouldn't reclaim what's mine?"

I try to spit at him, but my body won't respond. The magic constricts tighter, and blackness edges my vision.

"Your little... adventure," he continues, tracing a finger down my arm to where his mark burns beneath my sleeve, "has been inconvenient. But it ends now."

The shadows around us deepen, stretching unnaturally. They crawl up my legs, my torso, cool and slick like oil. Kaelith's chaos magic—the kind demons rarely share with outsiders. The kind he used to punish me when I displeased him.

"Don't worry about the child," he says, and my heart seizes at the mention of Sephy. "I'll find her too. A daughter of my blood belongs with me, not in some gutter with whatever filth has been harboring you."

A strangled sound escapes me—the only protest my body allows.

"Shh," he soothes, as the shadows engulf us both. "It's time to go home."

The alley, the festival, the world—it all disappears as the shadow magic consumes us. I'm aware only of Kaelith's grip on my arm, the pain of his spellbinding me, and the roar of festival-goers just feet away who can't see what's happening in the darkness.

No one sees us vanish. No one hears my silent screams. The celebration continues, oblivious, as I'm swallowed by shadow and the nightmare I thought I'd escaped.

21

ROLFO

Ipush through the crowd, my heart thundering against my ribs with each step. The market's usual buzz fades into a distant hum as panic takes over. Sephy wails against my chest, her tiny fists balled up in distress as I cradle her with one arm.

"Aurelie!" My voice cracks as I shout. "Aurelie!"

Merchants turn to stare, some frowning at the disruption, others backing away at the sight of a frantic demon guardsman. I don't give a shit what they think. My silver eyes scan every corner, every shadow.

"Sir, is everything alright?" A spice merchant reaches out as I pass.

I brush past him without answering, checking between stalls, peering down the narrow alleyway behind the pottery vendor. The weight of Sephy against my chest is both comfort and terror—she's safe with me, but her mother is gone.

"Aurelie!" I roar again, loud enough that several patrons scatter.

Sephy's cries intensify, her little face scrunched up and reddening. I adjust her against my shoulder, patting her back while still moving forward.

"It's okay, little one," I murmur against her silver-blonde curls. "We'll find your mother."

But the words sound hollow even to my own ears. I'd sworn to protect them both. After everything Aurelie had been through, she'd finally started to trust me, to feel safe. And now...

I swing down another side street, scanning the darker corners where the market's edge dissolves into the city proper. My free hand instinctively hovers near my blade.

"Rolfo! Steelclaw!"

I whip around to see Marken, one of the younger guardsmen, pushing through the crowd toward me. His uniform is disheveled, face flushed like he's been running.

"What?" I demand, not slowing my pace as he falls in beside me.

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