Page 43 of Monster Daddies
Fear.
Damn it.
"We'll have to try harder," I tell him before heading down to the foyer so I can fetch another box.
That night I try again.
With Avalon curled up between us in the library, in front of the fire, I gently tug her as close to me as I can. As per usual, Sparrow is curled up at her feet.
"Sweetheart," I murmur, brushing my fingers along her cheek, feeling that soft thread of the bond vibrate under my touch. "What's weighing on that pretty mind of yours?"
She smiles up at me, sweet and heartbreaking all at once, and presses a kiss to my palm.
"Nothing, Daddy," she says softly. "Just tired."
The bond tightens. Twists. The lie sits heavy across it.
Viraat stiffens beside me. I feel his anger flare through the bond, not at her, but at the ache of not knowing.
"Idiot human," he mutters as he pushes off the floor. "How do you expect to fix it, if you don't share? Secrets fester."
Avalon tugs her frayed unicorn closer, and curls herself smaller against my side. Her reaction makes me want to throttle my brother-in-arms, but I keep a careful hold on my anger.
She nibbles on her bottom lip, emotions I can't name warring within her, the tug of them on the bond undeniable.
I feel it the moment she comes to a decision.
It's not in her voice or her expression, not even in her body language — it's in the bond.
A spark. A shift.
The sadness doesn't vanish, but it sharpens into resolve, and that fragile connection between us hums like a plucked string.
Avalon sits up so fast Sparrow gives a startled squeak. She mutters a distracted apology to the stuffed unicorn and darts to her feet, wobbling slightly before taking off out of the library.
"Little one—!" I push up from the floor, heart leaping to my throat.
Viraat is already on his feet, scowling fiercely. "Gods damnedbabygirl,stop running off!" he bellows, his feet thundering after her across the marble.
I catch a flicker of Avalon’s pale nightgown disappearing around the corner and take off after them both.
The manor seems toleanwith us, opening doors, guiding the way. It senses the urgency as clearly as we do.
We find her in the nursery, standing before the far wall.
The pale moonlight from the tall windows glimmers off her hair, and in her hands, she's prying gently at a seam in the stone that, to mortal eyes, would have looked like nothing more than an old crack. By her feet, Sparrow winds in slow, tight circles, his one good eye pinned on her, his tail flicking in sharp, anxious snaps.
A low rumble vibrates in Viraat's chest. He storms in after her, jaw tight. "What in all hell are you doing, sweetheart?"
"Wait—" I throw a hand across his chest before he can bark at her more. "Look."
With a soft whimper of effort, Avalon manages to pull free a hidden panel. Behind it, nestled in a secret hollow, sits a book.
An old, thick tome bound in cracked leather.
She lifts it out with reverent hands and turns toward us, cradling it against her chest like a secret she's finally ready to share.
"I found this," she says, voice trembling. "I think... I think it's about you."
