Page 6 of Demon Daddy's Baby Girl

"Who are you?" My voice sounds pathetically thin.

The demon remains in the doorway, making no move to approach. His jet-black hair falls messily around his face, partially obscuring a scar that cuts through his right eyebrow. Despite his intimidating size, he holds himself with a strange restraint, like someone accustomed to being perceived as a threat.

"My name's Rolfo," he answers, his words clipped but not unkind. "I found you collapsed near the markets. So… I brought you here—to my home."

A contraction rips through me before I can respond, more vicious than the last. I gasp, my knees buckling beneath me as white-hot pain radiates from my core. My vision blurs, the room tilting sideways as I sink toward the floor.

Strong arms catch me before I hit the ground. The demon—Rolfo—moves with surprising speed, his grip firm but careful as he lifts me.

"Shit," he mutters, the word barely audible as he carries me back to the bed. "You shouldn't be up. You're already burning with fever."

I struggle weakly against his hold, instinct overriding reason. "Don't touch me."

"Stay still," he says, ignoring my protest as he lowers me onto the mattress. "Help is on the way."

His silver eyes scan my face, and I'm startled by the concern I see there. Not calculation or cruelty—genuine worry.

"Why?" I manage between ragged breaths. "Why help me?"

Rolfo steps back once I'm settled, moving to pour more water. The distance he puts between us feels deliberate, as if he understands my fear.

"Drink this," he offers, extending the cup without coming closer. "As for why—" His jaw tightens, gaze flicking to my swollen belly. "Let's just say I have no interest in seeing a woman treated like you have been."

I hesitate before taking the cup, searching his face for deceit. Demons lie. Demons hurt. That's all I've known. But the raw honesty in his expression makes me reach for the water.

"My baby's coming," I whisper, wincing as another contraction builds. "I can't—I don't have anywhere to go."

Rolfo crosses his arms, his broad shoulders blocking most of the doorway. Despite his intimidating presence, his voice softens.

"You do now." He shifts his weight, looking almost uncomfortable with his own kindness. "No one's going to hurt you here. Or the little one."

The contraction peaks, and I cry out, clutching the sheets. When I can breathe again, I find him watching me, assessing me. But it's still filled with emotions I can't process.

Footsteps sound behind Rolfo, light and purposeful. The demon shifts aside, revealing a human woman in the doorway. She's slender but moves with quiet confidence, her honey-blonde braid swinging against her shoulder as she approaches. Sharp, assessing eyes take in my condition, but there's no judgment in them—only calm determination.

"You found her just in time," she says to Rolfo, her voice steady as she carries a small basket to the bedside.

She kneels beside me, reaching out slowly like I'm a frightened animal she doesn't want to startle. Her fingers wrap gently around my wrist, counting my pulse. Her other hand presses against my forehead, cool against my burning skin.

"I'm Ada," she says simply, meeting my gaze. "I'm a friend of Rolfo's, here to help. I've been through this before. You're safe here. We're going to help you."

Her voice is a balm, washing over me in waves of unexpected comfort. I cling to it like a lifeline, this stranger's certainty anchoring me when everything else feels unmoored. She smells of fresh herbs and something earthy—garden soil, perhaps. Her hands are worker's hands, with small calluses and neatly trimmed nails.

"You can't know that," I whisper, another contraction building. "You don't know who's looking for me."

Ada's expression doesn't waver. "I know enough." She pulls back the blanket to examine me properly, her movements efficient but gentle. "How far apart are the pains coming?"

I struggle to think through the fog of fear and fever. "I don't know. Close. Closer than before."

She nods, reaching for a cloth to dab my forehead. "Your body knows what to do, even if your mind is frightened. I'll help you through it." She glances over her shoulder. "Rolfo, bring more clean water and fresh linens."

I follow her gaze to where the demon lingers in the doorway, his massive frame making the room seem smaller. Despite his intimidating appearance, there's something almost vulnerable in his posture—shoulders slightly hunched, hands opening and closing at his sides. He nods at Ada's instruction, clearly uneasy but determined to help.

"Is he—" I start to ask, but another contraction tears through me, stealing my words and replacing them with a low, animal sound.

Ada holds my hand through it, her grip firm. "Breathe through your nose, out through your mouth. That's it."

When the pain recedes, I notice Rolfo has disappeared to fetch what Ada requested. "Why is a demon helping me?" I manage between pants.

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