Page 41 of Monster Daddies

I'm creating a bigger, more inclusive nursery for guests to use, but this one? This one is just mine.

I cross the room and sink into the big, perfectly stuffed beanbag by the window. The one that my sneaky Daddies ordered for me online.

I smile a little at the memory of them giving it to me, Viraat looking all shy, as I tug my unicorn into my lap, tracing the faded stitching along its belly. The golden thread hasn't been bright and shiny in some time, but I don't love it any less.

I guess the same can be said for me. I might not be as bright and shiny around the edges anymore, but Iknowmy Daddies love me too.

"I miss them," I mutter to Arabella, my voice cracking around the edges. "I miss them so much when they're stuck up there in the daytime."

The manor shifts around me, quiet but present. The old beans and stones breathe in time with my heartbeat.

"I know I'm being a big fat baby," I tell Arabella, and now the house, softly. "I know that once the sun sets I'll have them back, and everything will be perfect again, but I wish they could stay. Sometimes I wish the sun wouldn't rise at all, so I wouldn't have to lose them every day."

Tears prick my eyes, but I don't wipe them away. I just hold the unicorn tighter, letting the weight of my feelings settle around me like a heavy blanket. I'll give myself this time, this moment of sadness, so I can be bright and alive for them again.

The walls seem to hum in response to my emotions, and a low, warm sound vibrates through the floorboards into my bare toes, wrapping around me like a promise.

Come.

Wait.

What?

Did the house justspeakto me? Is this one of those crazy mate-bond magic tricks?

I sit up a little straighter, clutching Arabella tighter.

"Hello?” I whisper into the quiet nursery.

The manor hums again, stronger this time, and the golden afternoon light seems to shift, pooling toward the far corner of the room. Toward a seam in the panelling I'd never noticed before.

Heart hammering, I scramble to my feet, Arabella tucked under one arm. My bare toes sink into the plush carpet as I tiptoe closer.

Another breath, another soft hum from the walls, and the seam sort of shudders, then creaks open, revealing a hidden door no bigger than I am.

Inside, everything seems dusty, and so veryold.

There's a book, sitting on a pedestal, its cover so worn the leather looks like it could turn to dust.

At first I'm hesitant to touch it, but it holds when my fingers skim the cover. Instead of old and frail, it feels solid. Warm.

I glance over my shoulder once, half-expecting someone to jump out and tell me I'm not supposed to be here.

But it's just me and Arabella and thebook.

With shaking hands, I open it.

And what I see steals my breath away.

Why on earth is the manor showing me this? No that's a stupid question. I know why. I want to knowhow?

Where on earth did it come from and how does it have this book?

My Daddies have told me about their initial curse. How they were bound to the manor against their wishes, forced to use their magic to protect it, which is how it slowly became magical itself.

They shared with me how Uncle Ichabod had been the first Apples to ever be willing to break the curse, in so doing giving up any chance of his own happily ever after.

The book... the book has a ritual.