Page 45 of Demon Daddy's Hidden Daughter
But I force myself to think like the tactical commander I used to be. Thalor is smart, calculating. He wouldn't keep Ava in the main halls where anyone could stumble across them. No—he'dwant somewhere private, somewhere he could hold her without being caught.
The back administrative corridors. Of course. Thalor always preferred the shadows, even in the war. My wings twitch with the urge to take flight again, to cover ground faster, but these halls are too narrow. Instead, I lengthen my stride, each step carrying me closer to whatever confrontation awaits.
The scent hits me first—Ava's unique blend of innocence and that faint undertone that's become as familiar to me as breathing. She's here. Close. My muscles coil with anticipation, every warrior instinct sharpening to a knife's edge.
Then I hear it—a tiny whimper that sounds like it's being muffled. The sound drives straight through my chest like a blade, and I have to grip the wall to keep from running blindly forward. Ava never whimpers. She laughs and chatters and occasionally cries when she's hurt, but she doesn't make small, frightened sounds like a cornered animal.
The bastard has terrified my little girl.
I round the corner, following the sound until I kick open a door, and there he is—Thalor Keshin in all his cold, perfect glory. He's hidden in one of the offices, his jet-black hair pulled into that ridiculous warrior's braid, pale green eyes glittering with satisfaction. And there, clutched against his chest like a trophy, is my daughter.
Ava looks so small in his arms, her thick black curls disheveled and her violet eyes wide with fear. There's a hand pressed over her mouth—his hand, keeping her quiet with casual cruelty that makes me see red around the edges of my vision.
Thalor's face is expressionless. "Rhyen." He sounds almost disappointed. "I told you I was going to handle this. You couldn't leave well enough alone?"
Every muscle in my body screams for action. I want to launch myself forward, to rip him apart with my bare hands for daringto touch her. But Ava is right there, pressed against his chest, and one wrong move could hurt her.
So I force myself to stillness, to the cold calculation that once made me a formidable commander. My voice comes out steady, almost conversational.
"Let her go, Thalor."
"I don't think so." He shifts his grip, and I catch the subtle way Ava flinches. The sight sends another wave of rage through me, but I keep my expression neutral. "This little abomination has corrupted you long enough. It's time she's removed from our city where she never even belonged. I won't hurt her." I hold in the growl that he is and I'll kill him for it. "I'm being humane all things considered."
Nothing about this is humane. And nothing I'll do to him as a result will be either.
Before I can respond, Ava's eyes find mine over his restraining hand. The fear there nearly undoes me, but then I see something else—recognition, hope, absolute trust that I've come to save her.
And then she does something that stops my heart entirely.
"Daddy!" The word bursts from her despite his hand, muffled but unmistakable. "Daddy, I knew you'd come!"
The world tilts sideways. She called me daddy. My fierce, beautiful little girl just claimed me as hers in front of the enemy, and the surge of love and fierce protectiveness that follows nearly drives me to my knees.
But this isn't the time for sentiment. This is the time for action.
I catch her eyes and give the slightest nod—our signal from countless games in the garden. Her expression shifts, fear giving way to the bright intelligence I've come to adore. She knows. She's ready.
"Well, sweetheart," I say, my voice taking on the playful tone I use during our training sessions. "Looks like it's time for one of our special games."
Thalor's brow furrows in confusion, but Ava's eyes light up with understanding. She knows exactly which game I mean—our version of hide and seek where she practices escaping and finding cover.
"Remember the rules?" I ask, taking a careful step forward.
She nods against Thalor's restraining hand.
"Good girl. Ready?" Another step. "Five."
Thalor's grip shifts as he tries to understand what's happening. I can see him starting to realize this is some kind of signal, his pale eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"Four."
Ava goes perfectly still in that way she's learned, gathering herself like a tiny spring.
"Three."
"What the fuck are you—" Thalor starts to speak.
My magic begins to gather, power crackling along my skin in preparation.
