Page 29 of Demon Daddy’s Secret Twins (Demon Daddies #2)

29

LOXLEY

I pace across my treehouse living room, bare feet silent on the wooden floors. The ocean breeze filters through the open windows, carrying salt and night-blooming flowers, but even the familiar scents can't calm my racing thoughts.

My hands shake as I reach the far wall, spin, and track back. The twins sleep peacefully in their room down the hall, their soft breaths a reminder of everything I've kept hidden. Everything I should have said.

Copper-gold eyes flash in my memory - Mazan's expression when he first saw them. The shock, the hurt, the anger that darkened his features before he stormed out. My chest tightens.

I halt at the window, press my forehead against the smooth wood frame. Below, moonlight paints silver paths through the jungle canopy. The same paths I walked countless times while pregnant, terrified and alone, wondering if I'd made the right choice in keeping silent.

But what was I supposed to think? One night of passion, then nothing. No goodbye, no explanation. Just... gone. Like everyone else who saw me as something to use and discard.

My fingers trace the old scar along my ribs. I knew I couldn’t trust anyone. And these weren't just my scars at stake anymore. These were my sons.

Kaelar, so much like his father already - that quiet intensity when he thinks no one's watching. Sorien, with those mismatched eyes that see too much, who somehow always knows when I need him close.

I slide down the wall, draw my knees to my chest. I should have told him last night, when he finally explained about the xaphan, about the years of captivity. When everything made sense. When I saw the truth in his eyes, felt it in every touch, every kiss.

But fear paralyzed me. Fear of his reaction. Fear of losing them. Fear of trusting again, only to watch it all crumble.

And now? Now I might lose him anyway.

The first rays of dawn filter through the leaves, casting dappled shadows across my sleeping sons. I pause in the doorway, memorizing their peaceful faces. Kaelar sprawls across his bed, one small horn caught in the sheets, while Sorien curls into a tight ball, dark hair falling over his mismatched eyes.

"Time to wake up, little ones." I cross to the windows, pulling back the woven curtains.

Kaelar bolts upright, instantly alert. "Morning, Mama!" He bounces off the bed, already reaching for his clothes.

Sorien blinks slowly, watching his brother's whirlwind of activity before carefully sliding from his own bed. He pads over to me, arms raised. I scoop him up, breathing in his warm, sleepy scent.

"Can I wear blue?" Kaelar holds up his favorite tunic, already half-dressed.

"Of course." I help Sorien with his own clothes, smiling as he methodically buttons each closure.

In the kitchen, I slice fresh fruit while the boys settle at our small table. Kaelar swings his legs, nearly vibrating with energy.

"Mama?" He stuffs a piece of mango in his mouth. "You see the man at the beach, with the wings?"

My hands still on the knife. "Mazan?"

"Yeah! He had horns - like me and Sor!"

Sorien looks up from carefully arranging his fruit. "And his wings, like Uncle Lai's."

My heart skips. I set down the knife, turning to face them. He doesn’t want to talk to me, but he clearly wants to see them. And I don’t blame him. "Would you like to go see him today?"

"Yes!" Kaelar practically leaps from his chair. "We climb trees with him?"

Sorien's different-colored eyes study my face. "You want us to?"

I reach across the table, squeezing his small hand. "I do. Very much."

"Then yes." He smiles, soft and sweet, while Kaelar races to get his shoes.

I lead the boys down the winding path from our treehouse, my stomach in knots. Kaelar bounds ahead, pausing at each turn to wave us forward, while Sorien's small hand stays firmly clasped in mine. The morning sun filters through the canopy, painting everything in dappled gold.

The path opens to white sand, and my heart thunders against my ribs. Mazan's temporary quarters sit nestled among the palms—a simple but elegant structure that somehow manages to look both welcoming and imposing.

"Careful," I call as Kaelar races across the beach, his bare feet kicking up sand. His small horns catch the sunlight, so like his father's it makes my chest ache.

Sorien tugs my hand, those mismatched eyes searching my face. "You're scared."

"A little." I squeeze his fingers. "But that's okay."

We reach the house just as Kaelar raises his fist to knock. The sound echoes, and I hold my breath. Footsteps approach - heavy, familiar. The door swings open.

Mazan fills the doorway, his massive wings folded tight against his back. Those copper-red eyes widen as they take in the three of us. His gaze lingers on the boys, something raw and vulnerable flickering across his features before he schools his expression.

"Hi!" Kaelar waves, bouncing on his toes. "You climb trees with us?"

I wet my lips, offering a hesitant smile. "They wanted to see you." My voice comes out softer than intended. "If... if that's alright."

Sorien presses against my leg but keeps his eyes fixed on Mazan, studying him with that quiet intensity he usually reserves for particularly fascinating insects or complex puzzles.

The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken words. Mazan's wings shift, catching the morning light in shades of midnight blue.

Mazan steps back, gesturing us inside. His movements are careful, measured, like he's afraid any sudden motion might shatter this fragile moment.

"Come in." His deep voice wraps around the words, gentle despite his imposing presence.

Kaelar darts past him, already exploring the open living space. Sorien stays close, but his grip on my hand loosens as his curiosity wins out.

Mazan's fingers brush my elbow. "A moment?"

I nod, throat tight. "Boys, stay where we can see you."

We move to the kitchen archway while the twins investigate the living room. Close enough to watch them, but far enough for privacy. Mazan's wings curl forward slightly, creating a sheltered space between us.

"I want them to know you." The words tumble out before he can speak. "I never meant to keep them from you. I just..." My voice cracks. "I didn't know where you were, why you left. And then they were born, and I was so scared?—"

"Loxley." He shakes his head. “We both went through a lot. It’s going to take some time… But we’ll get there. To understanding each other again.”

I bite my lip, hating I did this. I nod as I turn to watch our sons. "They should know their father."

He nods, wings rustling. "I want to get to know them."

I suck in a deep breath. “Then we should tell them.”

Mazan looks less sure, but I tug him into the living room.

"Kaelar, Sorien." I settle on the plush rug where they're playing. "Come here, little ones."

They scramble over, Kaelar flopping across my lap while Sorien tucks himself against my side. Mazan kneels before us, his massive frame somehow less intimidating as he meets their curious gazes.

"Remember how you noticed his horns look like yours?" I run my fingers through Kaelar's wild hair. "That's because... Mazan is your father."

Kaelar's eyes go wide. Sorien's different-colored eyes dart between us, pieces clicking into place.

"I've been away," Mazan's voice is soft, rich with emotion. "I had to…fight bad guys. But I'm here now, and I want to know you both. To be with you, if you'll let me."

"You're our dad?" Kaelar sits up, reaching for Mazan's horns.

Mazan lets him touch them, something raw and beautiful crossing his face. "I am."

Sorien unfolds from my side, moving closer to Mazan. "You have red eyes. Like Kae. Like me."

“I do.”

My chest tightens as Mazan gathers them both in his arms, his wings creating a protective circle around all of us. Kaelar chatters excitedly while Sorien simply presses close, accepting this new truth with his usual quiet grace.

Tears blur my vision, but for once, they're not from pain or fear. The joy on my sons' faces, the tender way Mazan holds them - it fills something empty I didn't know I carried.