Page 53 of Demon Daddy's Hidden Daughter
We stay locked together like that for long moments, both of us trembling with aftershocks, our breathing slowly returning to normal. When I finally lift my head to look at her, the smile spreading across her face is radiant, transforming her features into something luminous.
"That was..." She trails off, her hand coming up to cup my cheek. "I could never have asked for anything better."
The admission fills me with warmth, with satisfaction so deep it reaches my bones. I turn my head to press a kiss to her palm, my eyes never leaving hers. "Neither could I," I tell her, and I mean every word. "Never in my life have I felt anything like that."
Her smile widens, and she pulls me down for another kiss, soft and sweet and full of promise. When we finally break apart, I carefully withdraw from her body, missing the connection immediately, but I gather her against my chest, settling her in the circle of my arms where she belongs.
27
LENNY
The weeks that follow blur together in a haze of contentment I never thought possible. Spring has fully claimed the estate now, transforming the gardens into something from a dream. White-blooming vines cascade over stone walls, their sweet fragrance mixing with the earthy scent of rich soil and new growth. The nightlilies Rhyen planted years ago have multiplied, their luminescent petals creating pools of soft light throughout the grounds even during the day.
Every morning, I wake in Rhyen's arms. Every evening, I fall asleep listening to his steady heartbeat beneath my cheek. The nightmares that once plagued me have faded to distant echoes, replaced by dreams of silver wings and gentle hands and a future that stretches endlessly ahead.
Ava has grown taller, her violet eyes brighter, her laughter more frequent. The shadows that used to lurk behind her smiles have disappeared entirely. She runs through the halls of our home—home, what a beautiful word—with the confidence of a child who knows she's safe, loved, wanted. The staff dotes on her shamelessly.
Tovren teaches her about zarryn care, letting her brush their silver coats while he tells stories of his soldiering days. Lira keeps a steady supply of treats in her pockets, slipping Ava honey cakes when she thinks I'm not looking. Even Garent's stern demeanor softens when she climbs onto his lap in the evenings, begging for another tale of aerial battles.
But it's Rhyen who transforms most beautifully in her presence. The decorated commander, the stoic instructor, becomes something softer when she's near. He lets her braid tiny braids in his silver hair, teaches her to identify different cloud formations from the estate's highest tower, carries her on his shoulders as they explore the mountain paths. When she calls him Daddy—which she does now without hesitation—his entire face lights up with such pure joy it makes my chest tight with emotion.
Today is one of those perfect spring afternoons that feels touched by magic. The sun hangs warm and golden overhead, filtered through a lattice of new leaves that cast dancing shadows across our path. We're walking to the waterfall, the three of us, Ava skipping ahead while Rhyen and I follow hand in hand. She's wearing one of the dresses Lira made for her—soft blue cotton with tiny embroidered thaliverrn along the hem—and her dark curls bounce with each step.
"Race you to the rocks!" she calls over her shoulder, already breaking into a run.
Rhyen laughs, the sound rich and warm.
She whips around to point at him. "No flying. That's cheating."
"It's not cheating!" he argues, but she just takes off.
His thumb traces over my knuckles as we walk, an unconscious gesture of affection that still makes my heart flutter. "You're quiet today," Rhyen observes, glancing downat me with those celestial blue eyes that still stop my breath. "Everything all right?"
I squeeze his hand, leaning into his warmth. "More than all right," I murmur. "Just... thinking about how different everything is now."
His wing brushes against my back, a gentle caress that speaks of understanding. He knows what I mean. Knows how far we've all traveled from those first desperate days when trust felt impossible and safety was just a fleeting dream.
The waterfall comes into view through the trees, its crystalline cascade catching rainbow fragments in the afternoon light. The pool below is mirror-smooth except where the water strikes it, sending endless ripples across the surface. Ava is already there, crouched at the water's edge, her small hands busy with something I can't quite see.
"What are you building, little star?" Rhyen asks as we reach the rocky shore.
She looks up with a grin that showcases the gap where she lost her first tooth last week. "A castle," she announces proudly, gesturing to the careful arrangement of smooth stones she's constructed. "For the water sprites. Merrin told me they live in waterfalls like this one."
"Did she now?" His voice is solemn, but I catch the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That's very thoughtful of you."
We settle on a sun-warmed boulder nearby, Rhyen's arm coming around my waist to pull me against his side. The position is familiar now, natural, like we were made to fit together this way. His wing curves slightly around me, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety that I never want to leave.
Ava abandons her rock castle to wade into the shallows, her delighted squeals echoing off the canyon walls as the cold water laps at her ankles. She splashes with abandon, sendingdroplets flying in wide arcs, and the pure joy on her face makes something expand in my chest until it's hard to breathe.
This is what happiness looks like. Not the desperate, fleeting kind I used to steal in moments between fear and flight, but something steady and warm and lasting. Something built on foundation stones of trust and love and the quiet certainty that tomorrow will be just as beautiful as today.
The knowledge I've been carrying for the past week sits warm and secret in my chest, waiting for the right moment to emerge. I've been certain for days now, the subtle changes in my body confirmation of what my heart already knew. The timing feels like a miracle—or maybe just the natural result of love finally having space to grow and flourish.
I turn slightly in Rhyen's embrace, studying his profile as he watches our daughter play. The afternoon light turns his silver hair almost gold at the temples, and the laugh lines around his eyes have deepened in the months since we met. He looks younger somehow, despite the scars and war brands that mark his skin. Love has softened the hard edges worn by years of battle and loss.
"Rhyen," I say quietly, my voice barely audible over the sound of falling water.
Something in my tone must catch his attention because he turns to look at me, those blue eyes searching my face with sudden intensity. "What is it, sweetheart?"
