Page 27 of Demon Daddy’s Secret Twins (Demon Daddies #2)

27

LOXLEY

I stand frozen as June's gentle voice breaks through the thick tension.

"Hey boys, want to show me that new climbing spot you found?" Her bright red hair catches the sunlight streaming through my treehouse windows as she moves the twins toward the door.

Kaelar's copper-gold eyes dart between Mazan and me, his small hand gripping Sorien's. My youngest son presses closer to his brother, one golden-brown eye and one deep red studying the towering demon before them.

"But Mama—" Kaelar starts, practically ignoring June.

"Come on." June's freckled face breaks into an encouraging smile. "I heard there's a really big branch perfect for sitting on."

The boys hesitate, but June's warm presence draws them toward the door. Sorien glances back at me, his mixed eyes full of questions I'm not ready to answer. The door clicks shut behind them, leaving me alone with their father.

I turn to face Mazan, my chest tight with two years of buried guilt. He fills my living room, his massive wings brushing the ceiling, obsidian skin marked with faintly glowing gold lines. Those copper-red eyes bore into me with an intensity that makes my breath catch.

"They're..." His deep voice trails off. The usually composed demon seems at a loss for words, his messy navy-blue hair falling across his forehead as he stares at the door where our sons just disappeared.

My fingers dig into my palms. "I should have told you." The words scratch my throat. I was so focused on what he’d been through that I hadn’t thought to tell him before they got here. "I wanted to, but you were gone and I—" I cut myself off, old pain threatening to surface. I focus on a spot on the wall, unable to meet his gaze.

Mazan takes a step closer, and I fight the urge to back away. Not from fear - never from him - but from the weight of what I've kept from him. His horns cast shadows on the wall as he moves into the patch of sunlight between us.

"How old?" His question comes out rough, strained. Like he needs to confirm it.

"Two." I force myself to look at him. "They'll be in three in about five months."

His wings shift against the wall, creating a soft rustling sound that fills the silence between us. "Are they..." Mazan's voice holds a tremor I've never heard before. "Are they mine?"

I nod, unable to find my voice for a moment. The gold lines across his obsidian skin pulse faintly, betraying the emotions he's trying to contain. I've learned to read those subtle changes over our time together, before everything fell apart.

"I found out I was pregnant after you disappeared." The words tumble out before I can stop them. "I went to the healer, and she told me I was pregnant." My hands twist together, a nervous habit I thought I'd broken. "I was going to tell you when you came back. And then…”

I leave the rest in the silence between us.

Mazan slides down the wall until he's sitting on my floor, his wings spreading out behind him. His copper-red eyes close, and he runs a hand through his wild navy hair. The gesture is so familiar it makes my chest ache.

"Twins," he whispers, more to himself than to me. His horns scrape against the wall as he tilts his head back. "Two sons."

I want to move closer, but my feet stay rooted to the spot. "Kaelar was born first. His horns started showing six months ago." My voice softens. "Sorien's are just starting to come in."

His eyes snap open, focusing on me with that intense gaze that always seems to see straight through my carefully built walls. "They have my eyes. Well, Kaelar does. And Sorien..."

"One of each," I finish. "Like a piece of both of us."

The gold lines across his skin pulse brighter for a moment, and I recognize the pattern - it's the same one I used to see when he was overwhelmed but trying to maintain control. He presses his palms flat against the floor, as if needing to ground himself.

The muscles in Mazan's jaw clench, his copper-red eyes darkening to a deep crimson. My heart pounds against my ribs as those gold lines across his skin pulse faster, brighter - a warning sign I've never seen before.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" His voice comes out low, controlled, but there's an edge I've never heard before.

I wrap my arms around myself. "Of course I was, I just?—"

"Just what?" He rises in one fluid motion, wings spreading wide enough to cast the room in shadow. "I've been here over a week, Loxley. Walking past you, speaking with you, and you said nothing."

"I know." The words catch in my throat. "But I thought you just left until you told me the truth last night. I was going to?—"

"To what?" His fists clench as he shakes his head. The gold lines across his skin are practically blazing now. M like this. I’ve never seen him like this. "To mention that oh, by the way, those two children running around are mine? That I have sons?"

I take a step back, my spine hitting the kitchen counter. This isn't the steady, patient Mazan I remember. This is something else entirely - raw and wounded and furious.

"Every time I saw you, you could have told me." His wings fold tight against his back, a gesture I recognize as him trying to contain himself. "Every single time. But you chose not to."

"I was scared." The admission tears from my chest. "You vanished without a word. I woke up alone and you were just... gone." My fingers dig into my arms. "How was I supposed to know you wouldn't disappear again? That you wouldn’t hurt them. "

“I didn’t disappear!” His jaw clenches, and his nostrils flare as he fights to regain control.

“I know,” I whisper. I can’t even blame him. “I know now . But before that I had to protect them.”

His copper-red eyes flash. "That's not—" He cuts himself off, running a hand through his wild navy hair. "You had no right to keep this from me. Not since I've been back. Not when you walked away from me the second you saw me."

The anger radiating off him fills the room like a physical presence. I've never seen Mazan like this - his usual calculated control fractured, revealing something raw and dangerous underneath. His horns catch the light as he turns away from me, his massive frame vibrating with barely contained fury.

"I was trying to protect them." My voice cracks as I gesture toward the door. "They've never known anything but peace here. I couldn't just?—"

"Couldn't what?" Mazan's wings snap tight against his back. "Tell them who their father is?"

"I needed to sort things out between us first." I press my palm flat against the counter behind me, steadying myself. "You show up after three years, and I'm supposed to just upend their entire world?"

The gold lines across his obsidian skin pulse faster. "Their world is already upended. They're half-demon children being raised by a human mother. They deserve to know where they come from."

"I know that." My fingers curl against the smooth wood. "But I had to think about what was best for them."

Mazan goes still, that dangerous kind of stillness I remember from when he'd face a threat. His copper-red eyes lock onto mine, and the temperature in the room seems to drop.

"What's best for them?" His voice comes out barely above a whisper. "Knowing their father would have been best for them."

The words hit like physical blows. I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. He's right. Of course he's right. But the fear of losing them, of watching him disappear with our sons like he disappeared that morning, had paralyzed me.

Mazan turns away, his massive frame blocking out the sunlight streaming through my windows. His wings unfurl, and without another word, he strides through my door. It closes behind him with a soft click that echoes in the sudden silence.

I slide down the counter until I hit the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees. The guilt and sadness and grief I've carried for three years crashes over me in waves, joined by fresh shame.

He’s right. I should have told him. I should have listened. Instead, I did what I do best - I pushed him away.