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"Time." Araton takes another step closer, close enough that I can smell the familiar scent of him—sandalwood and mountain air. "Time with Millie. Time to figure out what kind of father I can be to her."
It's everything I feared and somehow less terrible than I imagined. He's not demanding custody or threatening to take her away. Just... time.
I look up at him, at the face that haunts my dreams and nightmares both. "Okay," I hear myself say, the word feeling foreign on my tongue. "Okay."
20
RONNIE
The afternoon sun slants through the trees as I lock up my shop, the key turning heavily in the old iron lock. My nerves are frayed from Araton's presence, his eyes following my every movement throughout the day. He kept his distance—physically, at least—setting up outside my shop beneath the low-hanging awning with an uncanny patience that reminded me of a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
"Time to pick up Millie?" he asks, straightening from where he'd been leaning against the wall. The casual observer might miss the tension coiled beneath his relaxed posture, but I don't. His wings shift minutely, betraying his anticipation.
"Yes." I slip the keys into my pocket, avoiding his gaze. "She stays with Adellum during the day."
He falls into step beside me, too close and yet somehow not close enough. The heat of his body radiates between us, a phantom touch that makes my skin prickle with awareness. We walk in silence through the village, but it's anything but peaceful—the air crackles with unspoken words, with three years of absence and secrets.
When we reach Harmony's home, my steps slow involuntarily. The comfortable two story home with its neatly tended garden and smoke curling from the chimney has always represented safety to me. Today, it feels like I'm leading danger straight to its door.
"This is it," I say unnecessarily.
Araton studies the farmhouse, his golden eyes taking in every detail—the windchimes made of polished stones and copper wire that hang from the eaves, the clay pots of herbs lining the steps, the brightly painted door. His expression gives nothing away.
"It's... homey," he finally says.
Before I can respond, the door swings open, and Millie bursts out like a tiny whirlwind, her black curls bouncing and her small silver wings fluttering with excitement.
"Mama!" She races down the path, then skids to a stop when she notices Araton. Her golden eyes—so like his—widen with undisguised curiosity. "Who's that?"
Harmony appears in the doorway behind her, wiping flour-dusted hands on her apron. Her eyes immediately lock onto Araton, then flick to me with quiet concern. I give her a slight nod, hoping she understands that this is happening with my consent, if not my enthusiasm.
"This is..." My mouth goes dry. Three years of keeping this secret, and now the words won't come.
Araton doesn't wait for me to find my voice. He crouches down to Millie's level, his massive wings folding elegantly behind him to maintain his balance. In this position, with his imposing height diminished, the resemblance between them becomes startlingly clear—the same golden eyes, the same dimple that appears in his right cheek as he offers her a hesitant smile.
"Hello, Millie," he says, his voice gentler than I've ever heard it. "My name is Araton. I'm your father."
The world seems to hold its breath. Millie tilts her head, studying him with that peculiar intensity she sometimes gets. I step forward automatically, protective instincts surging, but force myself to stop. This moment isn't about me.
"You have wings like me," Millie finally says, her voice small but not afraid.
"I do." Araton extends one wing slightly, the dusky gray feathers glinting with silver highlights in the afternoon light. "Yours are beautiful. Like starlight."
Millie's face breaks into a radiant smile, and she spins around, trying to look at her own wings. "Mama says they're special. Uncle Adellum has blue ones, but nobody else has silver like me."
"That's because you're very special," Araton says, and the raw emotion in his voice makes my throat tighten.
Harmony moves toward us, her steps measured and cautious. "I should head back inside," she says, her hazel eyes meeting mine with silent support. "Unless you need me to stay?"
I shake my head, grateful for her understanding. "We're fine. Thank you for today."
"Always," she says with a warm smile for Millie, then slips back inside, leaving us in our little triangle of tension and possibility.
Millie has already turned her attention back to Araton, her initial shyness evaporating like morning dew. "Are you staying with us? Can you teach me to fly? Mama says I'm too little still, but Uncle Adellum says I might be able to soon, and—" She breaks off suddenly, her golden eyes widening. "Is that why we have matching bracelets?"
She thrusts out her small wrist, displaying the miniature version of the bracelet I now wear. Araton's eyes soften as he looks at it resting against her brown skin.
"Yes," he says simply. "Because we're connected."