Page 21 of The Minotaur’s Nanny Bride (Minotaur Daddies #2)

21

MAYA

I step through the threshold of Dex's home, my shoulders aching from a day of grinding herbs and mixing tinctures. The scent of dried rirzed herb still clings to my clothes, its sweet lavender-like fragrance usually soothing, but tonight it feels out of place in the tense atmosphere that greets me.

Dex paces the living area like a caged ursain, his massive frame making the spacious room feel suddenly small. Each heavy footfall seems to vibrate through the floorboards. His copper-highlighted fur catches the fading light slanting through the windows, but there's no warmth in how he holds himself—all coiled tension and radiating distress.

I close the door with a soft click, watching him for a long moment. His green eyes are unfocused, lost in some internal struggle. The bronze rings adorning his curved horns catch the light as he turns, creating brief flickers that match his erratic movements.

"What's going on?" I ask carefully, setting down my satchel of leftover herbs by the door.

Dex continues pacing, as if he hasn't heard me. His tail swishes in agitation, knocking against an end table. A small ceramic figurine wobbles dangerously but doesn't fall. Seven feet of frustrated minotaur in a confined space is like watching a storm gather strength.

When he finally speaks, his voice is tight, strained in a way I've never heard before. "Ellis' grandmother came by."

I frown, confusion creasing my brow. "His grandmother? But I thought?—"

"Not my mother," Dex clarifies, finally stopping his relentless pacing to face me. "She's gone. Ellis' other grandmother. His father's mother."

My stomach drops as understanding dawns. "And?"

"She wants custody of Ellis." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and ominous. "She wants to take him away."

I take an involuntary step forward, my hand reaching out before dropping uselessly to my side. "What did you say to her?"

Dex's broad shoulders slump, his usual jovial demeanor nowhere to be found. "She's right. I'm not... I'm not fit to raise him."

My breath catches in my throat. "Dex, that's not true." I step toward him, the practical, no-nonsense part of me ready to shake some sense into this enormous, self-doubting fool.

He holds up a hand, shaking his head. His palm could easily cover half my face—a reminder of how different we are, yet in this moment, he seems so small. "I can't do this. She's right. I don't have what it takes. There's so many things I should have done that I haven't, and I should let him go to a home where he can get proper care."

My heart aches watching him surrender without a fight. This is the same minotaur who defended his friend against bullies, who chose his own path despite his warrior family's disapproval. The merchant who deals with difficult customers and hagglers daily with that signature smile. Where is that Dex now?

"You're his blood too and you've been taking care of him!" My voice rises despite my attempt to stay calm. I gesture toward the nursery where Ellis sleeps peacefully—something that wasn't happening before I arrived. "You have to fight for him, Dex. You can't let her just take him away."

His jaw clenches, the muscle twitching beneath his fur. Those expressive green eyes—usually dancing with humor—are dull with defeat. "I'm not sure I can give him what he needs. She's right about that."

I stare at him, speechless. The scar on my right hand—my permanent reminder of standing up for what's right despite the consequences—suddenly aches. This isn't the man I thought I knew. Not the Dex who charmed me with his determination to care for his orphaned nephew, who looked at me with such gratitude when Ellis first settled in my arms.

My gray eyes narrow, my practical nature taking over. I've rebuilt my life from scratch after being disowned. I know what it means to fight for what matters.

"So you're just giving up?" The words come out sharper than intended, slicing through the heavy air between us.

His jaw works. "I'm doing what's best for him, Maya."

And I fear I can't change his mind.

I scrape the last of the dried zabilla leaves into a small cloth pouch, tying it with a tight knot. The succulent's healing properties should help with the teething pain Ellis has been experiencing. His tiny horns are just starting to peek through, causing him discomfort that keeps us all up at night. I tuck the pouch into my pocket, looking forward to getting home to him.

Home. The word catches in my mind like a burr. When did I start thinking of Dex's house as home?

The morning sun streams through my shop windows as I gather my things, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floor. My little herb farm outside the city and this shop have been my sanctuary since leaving my family's prestigious healing house. The Silverleaf name might open doors throughout Karona, but not for the black sheep who dared treat minotaur patients.

I lock up and begin the walk to Dex's house, enjoying the bustle of the market. Vendors call out their wares, the scent of fresh bread mingles with exotic spices, and children dart between stalls playing chase. It's a perfect day, which makes the sight waiting for me all the more jarring.

A sleek, polished carriage stands outside Dex's home, bearing an elaborate crest I don't recognize. My steps falter, a sense of foreboding washing over me. I pick up my pace, practically jogging the last stretch.

I push open the door just in time to hear a sharp, cultured voice cut through the air.

"It's decided then. I'll take him now."

The scene before me freezes my blood. Dex stands near the entryway, his massive frame somehow diminished, shoulders hunched as he watches a regal minotaur woman with black and white fur step forward. Her dark brown eyes don't even acknowledge my presence as she moves toward Ellis, who's bundled in a blanket in Dex's arms.

Ellis's tiny face peeks out, his eyes wide and confused as he's shifted from the familiar warmth of his uncle to this stranger's embrace. His soft baby horns catch the light, and I notice with a pang how much they've grown in just the past week.

"Dex?" My voice comes out smaller than intended. "What's happening?"

His green eyes meet mine, but there's something missing in them—the usual spark, the fight. He looks away quickly.

"Maya, this is Varina. Ellis's grandmother. She's... taking him."

The woman—Varina—finally turns to assess me, her muzzle pulled into a perpetual sneer. Her gaze slides over me like I'm something unpleasant stuck to her hoof.

"And you are?" she asks, though her tone suggests she couldn't care less about the answer.

"I'm Maya. I've been helping care for Ellis."

"The hired help, I presume." She dismisses me with a flick of her tail, turning back to Dex. "I've brought everything he'll need for the journey. My home is prepared for his arrival."

I step forward, my practical nature demanding answers. "Wait—you're taking him away? Today? Just like that?"

Dex doesn't meet my eyes. "I think it's for the best," he says quietly, his voice distant and hollow. "Maybe this is the way it's supposed to be."

My chest tightens as I watch Varina take Ellis from Dex's unresisting arms. Ellis makes a small, confused sound, his tiny hooves kicking slightly as he's transferred.

"But—" The word dies on my lips as I watch Dex step back, already surrendering.

Varina cradles Ellis with practiced efficiency rather than warmth. She nods curtly to Dex. "I'll send updates on his progress. You may visit when it's convenient."

Like he's a business arrangement, not family. Not the baby we've been pouring our hearts into for months.

Without another word, she walks out the door, taking Ellis with her. The click of the latch echoes through the suddenly empty house.

The silence that follows is deafening. I stand frozen, the pouch of zabilla leaves heavy in my pocket. Useless now.

"You really want this?" I finally ask, my voice trembling despite my efforts to control it. The familiar ache in my scarred right hand flares—my body remembering what it feels like to stand up for something that matters, to face consequences for doing what's right.

"I'm doing what's best," Dex answers, but I can hear the hollow uncertainty in his words. He won't look at me, just stares at the closed door.

"Best for who?" I snap, unable to hold back the anger bubbling up inside me. "You're giving up on him. You're giving up on us."

The words hang in the air, exposing feelings I hadn't meant to voice. Dex steps back as if I've struck him, his expression shutting down, closing like a door being slammed.

"You shouldn't have gotten so attached," he says coldly. "You're just the nanny."

My world tilts, the words cutting deeper than any knife. All those nights caring for Ellis together, the shared looks of triumph when he finally took his bottle, the way Dex's eyes softened when he watched me rock his nephew to sleep—was that all just convenience to him?

"I can't believe that's what you think," I whisper, hurt blooming inside my chest like a bruise spreading beneath the skin.

But when I look at him, searching for any hint of the Dex I thought I knew—the one who laughed too loudly and protected fiercely—I see nothing but coldness. The wall between us feels insurmountable.

Anger flares, hot and protective, burning away the hurt. I storm past him, my shoulder bumping his arm as I go. The contact sends a jolt through me—one last physical reminder of what I'm walking away from.

I slam the door to my room, the sound echoing through the empty house where a baby's cries should be.