Page 44 of Demon Daddy's Hidden Daughter
But self-recrimination won't bring her back. Action will.
I rush back inside, taking the stairs three at a time. I'm not quiet as I burst back into my room, ready to go after Ava. My hands are already reaching for the weapons harnesses hanging by my wardrobe before I'm fully in the room. Lenny stirs as I yank open drawers, grabbing knives and spare blades with mechanical precision.
"Rhyen?" Her voice comes out sleep-rough and confused. "What's wrong?"
The buckles of my chest harness bite into my fingers as I work them with shaking hands. "Someone took Ava."
The words hit her like a physical blow. I watch her face crumble, watch the color drain from her skin as she scrambles upright among the tangled sheets.
"What do you mean someone took her?" The question comes out as barely a whisper, but I can hear the building hysteria behind it. "Who would—where is she?"
"I found this in the garden." I hold up the parchment, my voice coming out harder than I intend. "Left with her sword. Someone from the college has her."
Lenny's breath catches, a sound of pure anguish that cuts straight through me. Tears start streaming down her face as the reality sets in—our worst nightmare made manifest.
"Thalor," I growl, strapping my main sword across my back. The familiar weight should be comforting, but all I feel is the burning need to use it. To paint the training college walls with his blood. "The xenophobic bastard who couldn't stand seeing me care for her."
"Oh gods," Lenny sobs, pressing her hands to her mouth. "My baby. My little girl, she must be so scared?—"
The sound of her breaking threatens to shatter what's left of my control. In three quick strides I'm at the bed, cupping her tear-streaked face in my hands. Her amber eyes are wide with terror, pupils dilated with the same panic clawing at my insides.
"Hey." I force my voice into something resembling calm, though inside I'm screaming. "Look at me, sweetheart."
She meets my gaze, and I see my own desperation reflected there—the bone-deep fear of someone whose world has just tilted off its axis.
"I'm going to bring her home," I promise, thumbs brushing away her tears even as new ones take their place. "I'm going to find our daughter and bring her back to us. Do you hear me?"
"She's just a baby," Lenny whispers, her hands clutching at the front of my shirt. "She's so little, Rhyen. What if they hurt her? What if?—"
"I won't let that happen." The words come out like a vow, backed by every ounce of fury and love burning in my chest. "No one hurts our girl and lives. No one."
I lean down and capture her mouth in a fierce, desperate kiss—tasting salt from her tears and the lingering sweetness from last night. When I pull back, her lips are swollen and her breathing ragged.
"Stay here," I order, already moving toward the door. "Stay safe. I'll be back with Ava before you know it."
"Rhyen, wait?—"
But I'm already gone, thundering down the stairs with vengeance singing in my veins. The moment I clear the manor doors, my wings snap open—massive spans of pale blue catching the early morning light. The familiar sensation of air rushing beneath them feels different now, charged with purpose and barely contained violence.
I've failed her once. Let someone take her while I was lost in my own contentment, too satisfied with domestic bliss to remember that the world is full of people who would hurt an innocent child simply for existing.
But I won't fail again. Whatever it takes, whoever has to die—I'll tear New Solas apart stone by stone before I let anyone keep Ava from coming home.
The wind cuts across my face as I launch myself skyward, fury driving me faster than I've flown in years. Below, the estate grows small, but my resolve only grows larger.
They took my daughter.
Now they're going to learn exactly what that mistake costs.
23
RHYEN
The New Solas Training College rises before me like a fortress of white stone and gleaming spires, its architectural perfection a stark contrast to the violence churning in my chest. I fold my wings and drop onto the main courtyard with enough force to crack the marble beneath my boots. Several junior cadets scatter like startled birds, their faces pale with shock at seeing their commander land like an avenging angel in their midst.
I don't spare them a glance. My focus narrows to a single point—finding Thalor and getting my daughter back.
The main halls echo with my footsteps as I stride through corridors I know as well as my own home. Students and instructors press themselves against the walls as I pass, sensing the barely leashed fury radiating from every line of my body. My hand rests on my sword hilt, fingers twitching with the need to draw steel and paint these pristine walls with blood.
