Page 29 of The Demon’s Little Girl

ROVAK

T he decision comes to me in the quiet moments after, when Liora's breathing has evened out against my chest and the weight of everything that's happened settles over us like a heavy cloak.

The estate feels tainted now—not just by Xharn's presence, but by the years of separation, the secrets, the careful distance we maintained when we should have been living.

I trace patterns on Liora's bare shoulder, feeling the delicate bones beneath her skin. "We need to leave."

She stirs, amber eyes blinking up at me in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"This place." I gesture vaguely toward the door, encompassing the entire estate in the motion. "It holds too much pain. Too many memories of keeping apart when we should have been together. When we return, I'll sell it. Find us somewhere new."

The uncertainty that flickers across her features makes my chest tighten. After everything we've just shared, she still expects me to change my mind, to send her away again. The thought makes anger coil in my gut—not at her, but at every circumstance that taught her to expect abandonment.

"We?" Her voice is barely above a whisper.

I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to meet my gaze. "You, me, and Nalla. There is no scenario where I let you go again, Liora. You're mine now. Completely. And I'm yours."

The smile that blooms across her lips chases away the last of her doubt. She presses her mouth to mine in a soft kiss that tastes like promises and new beginnings.

"Where would we go?" she asks against my lips.

"We can find a new home for us." Then I ponder it. "But we could go on a trip while I have our things moved."

She smiles at me softly. "I'd like that."

Two days later, we're loading supplies into a carriage while Nalla bounces on my hip, babbling excitedly about the adventure ahead. She's dressed in a tiny riding outfit that makes her look like a miniature explorer, her pale gold eyes bright with anticipation.

The little nubs of her horns catch the morning light as she twists to look at everything, pointing at the zarryn hitched to the carriage and declaring, "Big!"

"Very big," I agree, adjusting her weight as she tries to lean out of my arms toward the silver-coated beasts. Their shaggy fur ripples in the breeze, twin tails swishing with typical temperamental energy. "But they'll take us somewhere special."

Liora emerges from the house carrying a basket of supplies, the sunlight catching the bronze undertones in her skin and making her glow.

The sight of her in traveling clothes—practical but still feminine, with her dark curls pinned back and her amber eyes bright with excitement—makes something possessive and primal stir in my chest.

She's mine. Finally, completely mine.

It didn't take us long to find a new estate, and our things will start being moved tomorrow. When we return, we won't even have to come back to this house tainted with bad memories.

We'll go to our new one that we will fill with much better ones.

The journey takes most of the day, winding through the mountains that separate my estate from the coastal regions.

Nalla alternates between napping against my chest and chattering at the passing scenery, her tiny hands grabbing at everything within reach.

When she spots a black pitter bird streaking across the sky, she shrieks with delight, clapping her hands so enthusiastically she nearly tumbles from my lap.

"Fly! Fly!" she demands, as if expecting the bird to return for her entertainment.

Liora laughs, the sound lighter than I've heard it in years. "She's obsessed with anything that moves fast. Last week she chased a lunox for half an hour before I could catch her."

The image of our daughter toddling after a snow-white creature with her determined expression makes my chest warm. All the moments I missed, all the firsts that happened without me—but there will be more. So many more, and I'll be there for every single one.

As we crest the final ridge, the ocean spreads out before us like a vast sheet of silver-blue glass. The salt air hits us immediately, carrying the scent of brine and aracin blossoms that dot the coastline in patches of vibrant color. Nalla's eyes go wide, her mouth forming a perfect 'o' of wonder.

"Water! Big water!"

"The biggest," I murmur against her hair, breathing in the sweet scent of her as she points excitedly at the waves.

Liora directs me to a small coastal village where she rented a room during those final months of her pregnancy.

The inn is modest but clean, with whitewashed walls and blue shutters that have weathered years of sea spray.

The proprietor—a weathered human woman with kind eyes—recognizes Liora immediately.

"Well, if it isn't our mysterious guest!" she exclaims, wiping flour-dusted hands on her apron. "And look at this little one, so much bigger than when you left!"

Nalla hides her face in my shoulder at the attention, suddenly shy. But when the woman offers her a piece of candied nimond bean, my daughter's natural curiosity wins out. She accepts the treat with a whispered "thank you" that makes the innkeeper beam.

We settle into our rooms as the sun begins its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose that echo the color of Liora's eyes. After a simple meal of fresh fish and local vegetables, we walk down to the beach where the waves lap gently at the shore.

Liora is quiet at first, lost in memories I can only imagine. She carries Nalla on her hip, pointing out shells and seaweed, but there's a distant quality to her voice that speaks of painful recollections.

"She was born during a storm," she finally says, settling onto a piece of driftwood while Nalla toddles around our feet, collecting pebbles. "I thought it was fitting. Everything in my life felt like chaos then."

I want to pull her against me, to offer comfort for pain I wasn't there to ease. But instead, I crouch beside Nalla, helping her gather smooth stones while I listen.

"The first few months were..." Liora's voice catches. "I was so afraid I wouldn't be enough for her. That I'd fail her the way I felt like I'd failed everyone else."

"You didn't fail anyone." The words come out rougher than I intend, edged with fury at whatever convinced her she was to blame for any of it. "Least of all her."

Nalla chooses that moment to stumble, landing hard on her bottom in the sand.

For a heartbeat, her face crumples like she might cry—but then she spots a small thalivern landing on a piece of seaweed nearby.

The iridescent wings catch the fading light, and our daughter's tears transform into delighted laughter.

"Pretty!" she announces, pointing at the creature with one chubby finger.

Liora's expression softens, love and wonder mixing in her amber gaze.

"She took her first steps right over there," she says, nodding toward a patch of sand near the water's edge.

"Early morning, just after sunrise. I was sitting here, feeling sorry for myself, and she just..

. stood up and walked to me like she was tired of waiting for me to stop being sad. "

The image hits me square in the chest—Liora alone with our baby, struggling with emotions and circumstances that should never have been hers to bear.

But also the miracle of Nalla's first independent steps, choosing to move toward her mother instead of away, offering comfort in the only way a child knows how.

"Show me," I say quietly.

Liora looks surprised, but she stands, brushing sand from her skirts. Together, we walk to the spot she indicated, Nalla toddling between us with her collection of treasures clutched in both hands.

"She was wearing the tiniest yellow dress," Liora continues, her voice growing stronger with the memory. "And she had that determined expression she gets when she's decided something needs to happen. She looked at me like I was being ridiculous for not believing she could do it."

I can picture it perfectly—Nalla's pale gold eyes bright with purpose, her little face set in lines of stubborn concentration that she definitely inherited from me. The thought makes something fierce and protective rise in my chest.

"She's been taking care of you from the beginning," I observe.

Liora's smile trembles at the edges. "We took care of each other."

The simple statement contains worlds of struggle and determination, of a young mother finding strength she didn't know she possessed for the sake of her child. My respect for Liora, already infinite, somehow deepens further.

I pull both of them against me then, unable to resist the need to hold my family close.

Nalla squeals in delight at being sandwiched between us, dropping her stones to wrap her tiny arms around whatever parts of us she can reach.

Liora melts into my side with a soft sigh that sounds like coming home.

"We're never running again," I promise, my voice carrying easily over the gentle crash of waves. "Whatever comes, we face it together. All three of us."

Liora tilts her face up to look at me, and the trust I see there makes my throat tight. "Promise?"

"I swear it on my honor. On my life. On everything I am."

The kiss she gives me tastes like salt air and new beginnings. When we break apart, Nalla is pointing excitedly at something over our heads, bouncing in my arms with characteristic enthusiasm.

"Birds! Birds!"

I follow her gaze to see a family of black pitter birds wheeling overhead, their sleek forms cutting through the sky with impossible speed and grace.

The adult birds call to their young in sharp, melodic cries that echo off the water, teaching them the patterns of flight that will carry them across continents.

Nalla claps her hands together with pure joy, the sound bright and clear in the evening air. "Fly! Fly!"

"Just like you, little one," I murmur against her hair. "Learning to soar."

The three of us stand there as the sun sinks lower, painting the world in shades of gold and crimson. The waves whisper against the shore with ancient rhythm, and somewhere in the distance, the aracin blossoms release their evening fragrance into the salt-tinged air.

For the first time in years—maybe in my entire life—I feel complete. The jagged edges that have defined me for so long have been smoothed by love, by purpose, by the simple miracle of holding my family in my arms as they laugh at birds dancing in the sky.

And I'll make sure that this is what we get for the rest of our lives.