Page 24 of Demon Daddy’s Secret Twins (Demon Daddies #2)

24

MAZAN

I adjust the leather straps across my chest, my wings shifting at my back. They’re still tender after everything. The familiar weight settles between my shoulder blades as I stare out the window of my treehouse. Dawn breaks over Aurelius, painting everything in soft gold - a stark contrast to Galmoleth's eternal twilight.

My claws tap against the wooden railing. Down below, a familiar figure moves through the jungle path. Loxley. Even from here, I catch the tension in her shoulders, the way she scans her surroundings before each step.

"Fuck." The word echoes in the empty space. Three days I've been here, and she still flinches when I get too close. Won't meet my eyes for more than a heartbeat.

I run a hand through my hair, my horns catching the morning light. The gold lines beneath my skin pulse with unspent magic - a reflection of my restlessness. Every instinct screams to go to her, to explain everything. But I've seen what happens when someone pushes her too hard. She retreats further into herself, builds those walls higher.

No. I need to be patient. Need to show her I'm not like the others who hurt her. That I'm still the same demon who spent those days talking with her by the waterfall, who learned every subtle shift in her expression, every quiet laugh she tried to hide.

My wings itch to spread, to take me to her. Instead, I close my eyes and breathe in the jungle air. Time. She needs time. And when she finally lets me explain about the xaphan, about those three years in Aerasak - she'll know it's the truth. Because I'll have proven that her trust isn't misplaced.

Not this time.

So, I head out into the village to help, to find a way to make Loxley see that I’m not going anywhere. I understand her past, but I still want to be her future.

The morning sun filters through the jungle canopy as I help rebuild one of the damaged treehouses. My wings flex and shift, maintaining perfect balance while I secure new support beams. The work gives me purpose, keeps my hands busy while my mind wanders to her.

Loxley thinks she's subtle, ducking behind fruit stands or slipping into shadows when I pass. But I catch glimpses - the flash of auburn braids, those golden-brown eyes that linger a moment too long. My demon senses pick up her scent, wild jasmine and rain, even when she's hidden.

"These joints need reinforcing." I demonstrate the technique to a young villager, my voice low and steady. The gold lines across my obsidian skin pulse faintly as I channel magic to test the structure's integrity.

Three years. Three years of captivity, of fighting to return. Now that I'm back, I won't rush her. Can't rush her. Trust comes harder to Loxley than anything, and I broke that trust, even if it wasn't by choice.

I spot her at the edge of the marketplace, pretending to examine dried herbs. When I shift slightly in her direction, she tenses like a startled animal. But she doesn't bolt - not immediately. Progress.

"The support beam goes here?" The villager's question pulls my attention back.

"Lower. Like this." I adjust his grip, my movements deliberate and calm. Everything about me must be calm now. Patient. Non-threatening. The village needs to see it, but more importantly, she needs to see it.

A flash of movement catches my eye. Loxley has moved closer, watching my hands as I work. When our eyes meet, she freezes. The moment stretches between us, copper-red gaze holding golden-brown. Then she's gone, disappearing into the maze of elevated walkways.

But she looked. She always looks. And each time, she stays a heartbeat longer before running.

I return to my work, hiding my satisfaction behind the same steady expression. My horns catch the sunlight as I bend to lift another beam. Time. All she needs is time. And time is something I have plenty of now.

I give her a few days more before I decide to seek her out. It’s no surprise to me when I find her on her familiar path through the jungle, though it’s the evening instead of the morning. My wings fold tight against my back, letting me move silently between the massive trees. Loxley walks ahead, her steps sure and practiced along the narrow trail. She knows I'm here - her shoulders are tight, but she hasn't disappeared into the undergrowth.

When she pauses at a fallen log, I close the distance. "May I join you?"

She doesn't answer, but shifts slightly to the left - space enough for me to sit. Progress. My chest tightens as I settle beside her, careful to leave room between us. The gold lines across my skin pulse softly in the fading light.

"The village repairs are coming along well." I keep my voice low, steady. Like calming a wild creature.

"I saw." Her words are barely a whisper, but they're there. "You're good with the younger ones. Patient."

My hands rest on my knees, deliberately still. "Patience is something I've learned to value."

Loxley's fingers twist in her lap. Her auburn braids have come loose, framing her face in the dying sunlight. When she glances at me, those golden-brown eyes hold questions she won't voice.

"I never wanted to leave." The words slip out before I can stop them.

She tenses, but doesn't run. Instead, she pulls her knees to her chest, making herself smaller. "But you did."

"I did." I suck in a breath, wanting to say more. "But it's not what you think."

"What happened doesn't change anything." Loxley moves to stand, but I reach out, my fingers catching her wrist. Her skin burns against mine, igniting memories of that single night we shared.

She jerks away like my touch scalds her. "Don't."

But she stays, her chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. The dying sunlight catches the gold flecks in her eyes, turning them molten with fury. And beneath that - pain. Raw, unhealed pain that twists my insides.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice cracks. "Why now, after all these years?"

I shift toward her, wings rustling against my back. The urge to pull her close, to explain everything, claws at my chest. But the rigid set of her shoulders, the way she holds herself like she might shatter. I'm terrified what will happen if I push her.

But I think I'm running out of time.

"Why are you watching me? Following me?" Her fingers dig into her palms, knuckles white. "You lost that right when you disappeared."

The gold lines across my skin pulse brighter, betraying my own turmoil. Each accusation hits like a physical blow. She deserves answers, deserves to know about the three years that nearly broke me. I don’t have time to rebuild our trust. I can only hope she’ll hear me out.

"I was captured." The words scrape my throat. "The day I left here, I was sent to Aerasak to deliver a message for King Asmodeus. And immediately, I was captured by a group of xaphan. I spent the last three years in their prisons."

Loxley's breath catches. Her fingers uncurl from their tight fists, though she keeps her arms wrapped around herself.

"They have ways of containing demons. Magic that burns through our defenses, chains that suppress our strength." My wings twitch at the memory of being bound. "But the worst torture was knowing what I'd left behind. Who I'd left behind."

The gold lines across my skin flare brighter, matching the surge of emotion. "Every night, I dreamed of you. Of that smile you try so hard to hide. Of sitting out here with you." My voice roughens. "I fought. I bled. I nearly died trying to escape."

She shifts closer, drawn in despite herself. A tear trails down her cheek, catching the fading light.

"The things they did..." I clench my fists, copper-red eyes fixed on the jungle ahead. "But nothing hurt like imagining what you must have thought. That I'd used you and left. That I'd been like all the others who hurt you."

"Mazan." Her voice breaks on my name.

"I would never —" My chest aches. "You were everything. Are everything. But by the time I broke free, tracked you here..." I gesture helplessly. "How could I expect you to believe me?"

Loxley's tears fall freely now. She stares at me with those golden-brown eyes that have haunted my dreams, anger melting into something raw and vulnerable. Her fingers twitch toward mine before she catches herself.

"You were captured?" she whispers.

I nod, watching hope and fear war across her face. My navy hair falls into my eyes as I lean forward, wanting desperately to touch her but holding back. "Every day, every moment, I thought of coming back to you."