Page 21 of Demon Daddy’s Secret Twins (Demon Daddies #2)

21

LOXLEY

T he salty breeze ruffles my hair as I lean against a twisted jungle tree, watching my boys chase each other through the sand. Kaelar leads the charge, his tiny horns catching the sunlight as he races ahead. His brother toddles after him, always a few steps behind.

"Mama, look!" Kaelar points to a shell in the sand, his copper-gold eyes bright with excitement. Those eyes – Mazan's eyes. My chest tightens.

Sorien crouches beside his brother, mismatched eyes studying the shell with that quiet intensity he inherited from his father. One golden-brown like mine, one deep red like...

"Pretty," Sorien whispers, reaching for it.

"It’s mine!" Kaelar snatches it first.

"Share," I call out, forcing myself to focus on the present. "Remember what we talked about?"

Kaelar's lower lip trembles, but he holds the shell out to his brother. Such a small gesture, but it reminds me of the way Mazan would...no. I can't keep doing this to myself.

"We both look," Sorien says, shifting closer to his twin. His wild dark hair tangles with Kaelar's as they bend their heads together over their treasure. Their bronze skin glows in the morning light, so like their father's obsidian complexion but warmed by my own lighter tone.

Kaelar jumps up suddenly, shell forgotten. "Chase me!" He takes off down the beach, stumbling slightly but catching himself. Always charging ahead, just like...

Sorien looks back at me, hesitating. I nod, and he follows his brother, their laughter carried on the wind. They move with that same innate grace, even at two. Every gesture, every expression – pieces of Mazan shine through them both.

The ache in my chest spreads. Three years, and it still feels like yesterday. I wrap my arms around myself, watching my sons play in the shadow of what I lost.

A flash of red hair catches my eye as Isa, June and Lamain’s daughter, emerges from the jungle path, Kaelox trailing behind her. At nine, she's taken on the role of leader for our little group of island children. I swear she’s the reason my two-and-a-half year olds talk like they are much older. Or maybe it’s demon nature. I wouldn’t have anyone to ask.

"Kae! Sori!" Isa waves, her stormy gray skin a stark contrast to her bright smile. My boys stop their chase, faces lighting up at the sight of their friends.

"Can we play hide-seek?" Kaelox, Volezimir and Zylpha’s son, bounces on his toes, his silver-gray skin gleaming as patches of carapace catch the sun. At eight, he towers over my toddlers, but he's gentle with them.

"Careful with them," I remind, though I know I don't need to. These children have grown up together, forming their own little family.

Isa takes charge immediately. "I'll count! Everyone hide!" She covers her indigo eyes and starts counting.

Kaelar grabs Sorien's hand, pulling him toward a cluster of rocks. "This way!"

"Too far," I call out. They know the boundaries – always within my sight.

Kaelox helps my boys find spots behind nearby trees while Isa continues counting. His heterochromatic eyes – one gold, one green – scan the area with the same protective instinct I recognize in myself.

"Twenty! Ready or not!" Isa uncovers her eyes and starts searching.

I watch them play, my throat tight. This is their world – this beach, this island, these friends. They don't ask about what lies beyond Aurelius. They don't question why they have horns when I don't. They don't wonder about their father.

Sorien peeks out from behind his tree, giggling as Isa pretends not to see him. He's so much like Mazan in these quiet moments – watchful, patient. But I push the thought away. I can't let myself dwell on the past. Not when my present needs me whole.

"Found you!" Isa tags Kaelar, who bursts into dramatic tears before breaking into laughter. His copper-gold eyes sparkle with mischief as he declares it's his turn to count.

This is enough, I tell myself. This has to be enough.

The sun dips lower as June approaches, her bright red hair catching the last rays of daylight. "I'll take them for the night. Give you a break." Her green eyes hold understanding I don't deserve.

"You sure?" I watch my boys tackle Isa in the sand one last time.

"Of course. They love playing with Isa." June smiles as she looks at her daughter. "Plus, it's good practice."

Kaelar and Sorien rush over when I call them. Sand clings to their bronze skin, their dark hair wild from play. I kneel, pulling them close. "Be good for Aunt June, okay?"

"Promise." Sorien's mismatched eyes meet mine, so serious for a two-year-old.

"Extra dessert?" Kaelar asks, hopeful.

I kiss their foreheads, breathing in their scent. "One treat. Listen to June."

They race off with Isa, Kaelox following behind. June squeezes my shoulder before leading them up the path toward the treehouses.

My feet carry me down the beach, past the usual paths, to a hidden cove where twisted roots create natural benches above the tideline. The spot where Mazan first showed me his wings. Where he promised to protect me, not knowing I'd end up protecting our sons from his world.

I sink onto the roots, letting the crash of waves drown out my thoughts. The setting sun paints the water in shades of copper – the exact color of his eyes. Of Kaelar's eyes.

My fingers dig into rough bark. Three years of building walls, of focusing solely on our boys, of pushing down every memory. But here, in this spot, I let myself remember. The way his obsidian skin gleamed with those faint gold lines. How his navy hair felt tangled in my fingers. The gentle press of his horns against my forehead when he held me.

A sob breaks free. I press my palm to my mouth, muffling the sound though there's no one to hear. The waves won't tell my secrets. Here, just for a moment, I can be the woman who loved a demon, not just the mother who must be strong.

Salt spray mixes with tears on my cheeks. I don't wipe them away.

The air shifts.

My spine tingles with an awareness I haven't felt in three years. Power radiates behind me - dark, familiar magic that makes my heart stutter. I can't breathe. Can't move. Can't trust this feeling.

But my body remembers. Every cell recognizes the presence I tried so hard to forget.

I turn slowly, fingers digging into rough bark. Dying light spills through the canopy, illuminating a figure that haunts my dreams. Obsidian skin with those ethereal gold lines. Thick navy hair wild as ever. Curved black horns rising proud from his forehead. And those eyes - molten copper-red, burning into mine across the distance.

Mazan.

He stands motionless at the tree line, massive wings folded against his back. His face holds that same quiet intensity that I see echoed in Sorien's careful looks. Time hasn't changed him. He's still impossibly tall, still moves with that deadly grace as he takes a step forward.

My legs shake. I grip the twisted roots harder, anchoring myself. This can't be real. I've imagined this moment too many times.

But the magic crackling in the air is real. The way my skin prickles with awareness is real. The ache in my chest threatening to split me open is real.

He takes another step. And another. Moonlight plays across his skin, making those gold lines shimmer. His eyes never leave mine, filled with an emotion I can't - won't - name.

"Loxley." His deep voice breaks the silence, rough with something that sounds like pain.

The sound of my name on his lips shatters what's left of my composure. Three years of carefully constructed walls crumble in an instant.