Page 19 of Demon Daddy’s Secret Twins (Demon Daddies #2)

19

LOXLEY

T he jungle path crunches beneath my feet as I make my way to the waterfall. Same route. Same time. Same emptiness gnawing at my chest. Three months of silence stretch behind me like a void.

My fingers work through my auburn braids, tugging them loose and redoing them - a nervous habit I can't shake. The methodical motions keep my hands busy, stop them from shaking.

"Morning, Loxley!" Another villager waves from her treehouse balcony.

I manage a tight nod but don't stop walking. Words feel like stones in my throat these days, too heavy to lift. The familiar path winds deeper into the jungle, away from the elevated walkways and treehouses of the village.

The waterfall comes into view, mist cooling my skin. I perch on my usual rock, legs pulled tight against my chest. Water crashes against stone, drowning out everything except the thoughts I can't escape.

Fool. Such a fool.

My ribs ache where the old scar tissue pulls tight. I press my hand against it, a reminder of why I should have known better. Trust is a luxury I can't afford. I thought I learned that lesson years ago in chains, yet here I am, burning from the inside out because I let myself believe...

No.

I spring to my feet, pacing the rocky outcrop. The golden-brown eyes reflecting in the pool below look wild, desperate. I barely recognize myself anymore.

Three months without a word. No explanation. No goodbye. Just silence where his steady presence used to be. The copper-red eyes that used to watch me with such patience are gone, along with all his promises of protection.

My throat closes around a sound that might be a laugh or a sob. I swallow it back. Demons lie. I knew that. I knew that and still let myself think Mazan was different.

The waterfall roars on, indifferent to my pain. I stand at its edge, letting the spray soak through my clothes until I'm shivering. Maybe if I stay here long enough, the water will wash away this ache. Maybe if I keep moving, keep breathing, eventually I'll remember how to be the person I was before him.

Maybe then I'll stop looking for midnight-blue wings against the sky.

The spray from the falls chills my skin, but something else sends a shiver down my spine. A nagging thought I've been pushing away surfaces, impossible to ignore any longer. Especially as my stomach cramps - and not for the reason I’d hope for.

I count the days in my head again. Then again. My hands clench into fists, nails biting into my palms.

No. No, no, no.

It’s been almost a month since it should have happened. It's happened before when I'm stressed. Nothing to panic about. I pace the rocks, bare feet finding familiar grooves worn smooth by water. The mist clings to my skin, but it can't wash away the cold dread pooling in my stomach.

My morning routine of dried fruit sits untouched in my pack. The mere thought of eating makes my insides twist. That's stress too. Has to be.

But my breasts ache, tender in a way that has nothing to do with my monthly cycle. And yesterday, the smell of cooking fish from the village market - a smell I usually love - had me running for the treeline.

I sink down onto the rocks, pressing my forehead to my knees. The rough fabric of my pants scratches my suddenly too-sensitive skin.

"It's nothing," I whisper to myself, voice raw from disuse. "You're imagining things."

But my body feels different. Foreign. Like something inside me has shifted, rearranged itself without my permission. And I’ve ignored the signs for weeks now.

My hand drifts to my flat stomach before I snatch it away. I won't acknowledge this. Can't acknowledge this. Not when he's gone. Not when I'm alone again.

The waterfall thunders on, drowning out the sound of my ragged breathing. I force myself to stand, to keep moving. If I stay still too long, the reality I'm desperately avoiding might catch up to me.

I need to get back. Need to check my stores of herbs. There has to be something to explain this away. Something other than the impossible truth trying to take root in my mind.

I drag myself back along the village paths, feet heavy as lead. My treehouse feels too empty, too quiet. Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm climbing the steps to June's home instead. She’s the only one I’ve ever really talked to on the island.

She opens the door before I can knock, her bright red hair gleaming in the morning light. One look at my face and she pulls me inside.

"You look like hell." She guides me to sit at her kitchen table. "When's the last time you ate?"

I shake my head, words stuck in my throat. June's green eyes narrow as she studies me. "Something's wrong." She sets a cup of tea in front of me. "Talk to me, Lox."

The familiar nickname threatens to break me - because all I can hear is him . "I think... I might be..." My hands tremble around the warm cup. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

June's eyes widen. She grabs my arm. "Come on. We're going to see Mira."

I let her pull me through the village to the healer's treehouse. The whole way there, my mind spins with denial. But Mira's gentle hands and knowing eyes confirm what I've been refusing to face.

"You're about ten weeks along. Maybe a little further," she says softly.

The world tilts sideways. June's arm around my shoulders is the only thing keeping me upright.

"No." The word tears from my throat. "No, I can't..."

But I know it’s true - the subtle changes in my body, the missed cycle. Mazan's child grows inside me, while he's gone without a trace.

"He promised." My voice cracks. "He said he wouldn't leave."

June pulls me close as the tears finally break free. Her fingers card through my hair like she's soothing a wounded animal. Maybe she is.

"I can't do this alone." The words come out between gasping sobs. "I can't..."

"You're not alone," June says fiercely. "I'm right here."

But all I can think about are copper-red eyes and midnight wings, and promises that turned out to be as empty as the sky.

The sobs wrack my body, tearing loose years of carefully constructed walls. My fingers clutch June's shirt as if it's the only thing anchoring me to reality. Each breath burns like swallowing glass.

"He said he'd protect me." The words spill out between gasps. "Said I could trust him. I'm such a fool."

June rocks me gently, but the contact makes my skin crawl. I jerk away, stumbling to my feet. The healer's treehouse suddenly feels too small, too confined.

"Don't touch me." I wrap my arms around myself, backing toward the door. My braids have come completely undone, auburn hair falling in my face. "I can't... I need..."

The walls press in. My old scars burn like they're fresh. Memories of chains and dark elf hands flood back - memories I thought Mazan had helped me bury.

"Lox, breathe." June's voice sounds far away. "You're safe here."

A harsh laugh tears from my throat. "Safe? I let a demon inside me. Inside my body, my heart..." My fist slams into the wall. Pain shoots up my arm but I welcome it. It's better than this hollow ache in my chest.

"He's not like the others," June says softly. I always suspected she knew about Mazan and me. Does she know why he’s abandoned me, too? "You know that."

"Do I?" My voice rises, hysteria edging in. "He's gone, isn't he? He took what he wanted and left me broken. Just like everyone else." The rest dissolves into another wave of tears.

I slide down the wall, pulling my knees to my chest. My golden-brown eyes burn, vision blurring. Three months of held-back tears finally break free.

"I hate him." The words come out as a broken whisper. "I hate that he made me believe. I hate that I still..."

My hand presses against my stomach before I can stop it. A child. His child. The thought sends fresh panic clawing up my throat.

June kneels beside me, careful not to touch. "You don't have to decide anything right now."

But I can feel it - the tiny spark of life inside me, already changing everything. My chest heaves as another sob builds. "I can't do this. I can't..."

The tears keep coming, years of pain finally breaking through the walls I built to survive. I cry until my throat is raw, until my body shakes with exhaustion. June stays close, a silent guardian as I finally let myself shatter.