Page 8 of Demon Daddy's Hidden Daughter
She stops walking entirely, turning to stare at me with something like shock. "You don't even know us. You don't know what I've done, or what kind of trouble we might bring to your door."
"Don't care."
"You should. You really should care." Her voice cracks slightly. "Good people get hurt when they get involved with us."
"Let me worry about that." I adjust my hold on Ava, who murmurs something unintelligible in her sleep. "The offer stands. Work when you're ready, safe quarters for both of you,protection of my household. No strings, no expectations beyond what any employee would have."
Lenny searches my face like she's looking for the catch, the hidden cruelty that experience has taught her to expect. Her amber eyes are bright with unshed tears, and her hands shake where they grip the strap of her traveling bag.
"Why?" she whispers.
"Because it's the right thing to do," I say simply. Not mentioning how desperately I want to protect them, especially this sweet girl that deserves more than the life she's been given.
She looks down at Ava, sleeping peacefully in the arms of a stranger, and something in her expression finally gives way. The careful walls she's built around herself don't crumble—they're too deeply ingrained for that—but they shift. Crack open just enough to let in a sliver of hope.
"All right," she breathes. "Yes. The position... yes."
Relief floods through me, unexpected in its intensity. "Good. My estate is just ahead."
4
LENNY
Istay several paces behind Rhyen as we approach his estate, my hand never straying far from my knife. I feel uneasy about him holding Ava, but she's fallen asleep in his arms, and I don't dare wake her.
The narrow path winds through tall evergreens that tower overhead, their branches creating a natural canopy that filters the late afternoon light into dappled patterns across the stone walkway. Wild gardens sprawl on either side—not the manicured perfection of noble estates, but something wilder, more alive. Nightlilies bloom in impossible clusters, their silver petals catching what light penetrates the green shadows.
The house emerges gradually through the trees, and my breath catches despite myself. Two stories of warm sandstone and pale gray stone rise from the valley floor, built in a gentle crescent that seems to embrace the landscape rather than dominate it. Silver veins run through the archways like captured lightning, and the windows—actual glass, not the oiled parchment I've grown accustomed to—seem to glow with their own inner light.
This isn't just wealth. This is old money, established power, the kind of security I stopped believing in years ago.
Above the treeline, I catch sight of a narrow flight path carved through the air—a shimmering distortion that marks the aerial approach to the estate. My stomach clenches. Xaphan territory through and through. If enemies came looking for us here, they'd be flying straight into a stronghold designed to repel airborne threats.
Part of me wants to run. The old instincts scream that places this beautiful, this protected, always come with prices I can't afford to pay. Nothing in my life has ever been this easy, this straightforward. There has to be a catch.
But Ava sleeps peacefully in Rhyen's arms, her small face relaxed in a way I haven't seen since... I can't remember when. And the exhaustion in my bones runs so deep that even the promise of a few days' rest is enough to keep my feet moving forward.
The front entrance opens before we reach it, revealing a broad-shouldered xaphan with shoulder-length black hair tied back and fierce green eyes that miss nothing. His wings are a deep blue-gray, the color of storm clouds, and he moves with the controlled precision of someone who's seen combat. Despite the slight limp in his left leg, there's no weakness in his stance.
"Garent," Rhyen nods to the man. "This is Lenny and her daughter Ava. They'll be staying in the family wing. Lenny, Garent is my daytime and head guard."
Garent's green eyes flick to me, taking in everything—my worn clothes, my defensive posture, the way my hand hovers near my weapon. But there's no judgment in his assessment, only the professional evaluation of a guard noting potential threats. He gives me a respectful nod that somehow manages to convey both acknowledgment and reassurance.
"Ma'am. The wing's been kept ready." His voice is gravelly but not unkind. "I'll have Lira prepare the adjoining rooms."
I memorize the exits I can see—the front door we just entered through, an archway leading deeper into the house, what looks like a side passage toward the back. The front hall stretches up into vaulted ceilings that make me feel small and exposed, but the polished stone floors are worn smooth in the centers, speaking of years of daily use rather than ceremonial grandeur.
"Lira!" Garent calls, and moments later a woman appears from the archway. She's shorter than me, maybe mid-forties, with the slightly pointed ears and earth-brown skin that mark her as part nymph. Her graying hair is braided with small flowers, and her brown eyes light up immediately when she sees Ava.
"Oh, what a darling little one," she coos, but keeps her voice soft so as not to wake the sleeping child. "I'm Lira, sweet girl. I keep this big house running properly." She shoots a meaningful look at Rhyen that suggests she thinks more than the house needs proper management. "How old is she?"
"Almost four," I answer quietly, still cataloguing escape routes. The side passage, yes, and probably a kitchen entrance somewhere. Places this size always have service doors.
"Perfect age for getting into everything." Lira's smile is genuine, laugh lines creasing around her eyes. "We'll have to zarryn-proof the stables when she's awake. Tovren will want to show her the foals, but those creatures have no sense around children."
A young woman hurries down what must be the main staircase—human, maybe twenty, with bright auburn hair escaping from a hasty braid and stormy gray eyes wide with curiosity. She trips slightly on the bottom step, catches herself with a little laugh, and smooths down her skirts.
"This is Merrin," Rhyen says as the girl approaches. "She'll help you get settled if you need anything."
