Page 62 of The Monster's Daughter

She babbles about glitter bats and flying pancakes and how she saved a planet made of jellybeans from the “snore whales.”Kage listens like her every word is scripture, nodding with grave seriousness, occasionally gasping in awe. When she gets to the part where the jellybean king gives her a crown made of lava, he clutches his chest like he’s been emotionally compromised.

I watch them, one arm propped under my head, and something in me aches.

He’s perfect with her.

No hesitation. No fear. Like he was built for this.

I thought it would take time. I thought there’d be awkwardness. But it’s like his instincts flipped on the second he knew. And now? He’s hers. Completely.

And maybe always was.

Natalie drapes herself across his chest, half-asleep again now, murmuring nonsense. Kage shifts to hold her without breaking a beat. I reach for my comm to snap a picture. I don’t want to forget this. Ever.

We lie there like that for a long time. The three of us. In the tangle of morning sheets, with soft light filtering through the blinds and the smell of cinnamon from the kitchen below. I never believed in perfect moments.

But I think this might be one.

We spend the whole day together. Just us.

Kage makes pancakes shaped like war beasts. Natalie screams laughing when one accidentally ends up looking like a butt. He pretends to be scandalized. I nearly drop my coffee laughing.

Then we walk to the park.

The air smells like roasted nuts and hover-oil, that weird but strangely comforting city blend. Trees line the paths in curling, iridescent canopies, their leaves whispering secrets in the wind.

Natalie runs ahead. Kage watches her like a hawk, but with this soft expression that melts me from the inside out.

She beelines for the jungle gym. It’s too tall for her, too fast. I start to panic, stepping forward—but Kage’s already there. Lifting her easily, one clawed hand steadying her back.

“You got this,” he murmurs. “I won’t let you fall.”

She climbs like a pro.

When she gets to the top, she throws her arms in the air like a champion.

I snap another picture.

We stay there for hours. Kage lets her braid beads into his horns. I film it all. He looks ridiculous. And he doesn’t care.

When the sun starts to dip, Natalie curls up under the playground dome and falls asleep without warning.

“She’s out cold,” Kage chuckles, scooping her into his arms.

I tuck the blanket I brought over her. “She hasn’t napped like that in years.”

“She’s safe now.”

He says it like a fact. Like a vow.

My throat tightens.

Dinner’s on the floor.

We spread out cushions and eat with our fingers like it’s a picnic, even though it’s just leftover noodles and some kind of mystery stew Jexi dropped off.

Natalie’s curled in Kage’s lap, half-asleep again, tracing the ridges of his knuckles. His arm’s wrapped around her like a fortress.

I lean against him, resting my head on his shoulder.