Page 3 of Demon Daddy's Nanny
"I climbed out my window." Pride colors her voice as her wings stretch slightly. "Used my powers to ride the wind down. Father's too busy with his meetings to notice I'm gone."
My heart pounds against my ribs. If they find her here - with me - the consequences would be severe. For both of us. "When did you leave?"
"This morning." She lifts her chin, but I catch the tremor in her hands. "I wanted to see the market, watch the street performers. Everything's so bright and alive out here."
I glance at the windows. The sun hangs low, painting the crystal chandeliers in amber and gold. Hours have passed. Her father must have noticed by now.
"Annalise..." I keep my voice gentle. "Your father - what exactly does he do?"
She stiffens, silver eyes darkening. "He used to be a warrior. Now he’s… I don’t know. He commands the city guard or something like that."
My blood turns to ice. A warrior’s daughter, sitting across from me, eating contraband pastries. The room suddenly feels too small, the shadows too deep.
But she looks up at me then, eyebrows pinched together. “Why? Is there…something wrong with that?”
I swallow back my fear. If her father comes, then I’ll deal with it. For some reason, I want to protect the little bit of peace she’s found.
“No.” I paste on a smile for her. “There’s nothing wrong.”
2
RIDWAN
The streets of New Solas gleam beneath my boots as I stalk through the city, my wings twitching with barely contained rage. Golden spires pierce the violet sky, their ethereal glow mocking the darkness churning inside me. My daughter's defiance burns hotter than the enchanted flames lighting the grand boulevards.
"Lord Ridwan." A merchant bows, scurrying out of my path. I’m well-known around the city since I head the city guard, all the merchants and nobles knowing exactly who enforces law here - so they know who to target. I don’t care much for the ‘lord’ title - especially given that I am a warrior at heart - but I do not argue.
I barely register his presence, my focus locked on scanning the crowds for a flash of platinum hair.
Blood pounds in my ears. This isn't the first time Annalise has slipped past the estate's wards, and it won't be the last unless I put a stop to it. She's too much like her mother - headstrong, rebellious, determined to test every boundary I set.
My wings spread wider, casting a shadow over the gilded walkway. Citizens part before me, their whispers carried on theevening breeze. Let them talk. My reputation means nothing if I can't keep my own daughter safe.
"Has anyone seen my daughter?" My voice cuts through the marketplace chatter. Silence falls, broken only by the rustling of nervous wings. I already have half the city guard and a few of my own looking for her and yet, I can’t find her anywhere.
A young xaphan woman steps forward, her eyes downcast. "My lord, I saw her heading toward the eastern parts of the city earlier."
I flex my hands, fighting the urge to summon my power. The last time I unleashed my fury in public, it took weeks to repair the damage. But the thought of Annalise alone in that part of the city - where crime is a bit too high and there are a lot ofhumans- is driving me close to the edge.
My wings snap tight against my back as I march toward the eastern side. Fourteen years old and she thinks she's invincible. Just like her mother. The memory of Sera's smile twists in my chest like a blade.
Not again. I won't lose anyone else. Especially when Annalise is all I have.
The stench of desperation and decay grows stronger as I work my way from the city’s center. Shadows crawl between vendor stalls, and the gleam of watching eyes follows my every move. My wings brush against rotting awnings, sending motes of dust dancing in the dim light.
"A girl with white-gold hair," I growl at each merchant I pass. Their trembling fingers point deeper into the maze of crooked streets.
The trail leads to a weathered bakery wedged between two crumbling buildings. Warm light spills from its windows, and the scent of fresh bread cuts through the market's foul air. My steps slow as familiar laughter rings out - bright, genuine, unguarded.
I freeze in the doorway. Annalise leans against a flour-dusted counter, her silver eyes sparkling as she tosses her head back in delight. Beside her stands a human woman, dark-haired andglowing, gesturing animatedly as she speaks. Crumbs scatter from the pastry in Annalise's hand.
My chest constricts. I can’t remember the last time I saw my daughter laugh like this. Not with our kind, not with anyone. She holds herself apart, wrapped in thorny defiance and sharp words. But here, in this grimy corner of New Solas, her walls have crumbled.
"And then the whole batch just—" The human girl smacks her hands together, sending up a cloud of flour. "Exploded! Everywhere!"
"You're terrible." Annalise grins, actually grins, and bumps her shoulder against the human's. "How are you even allowed near an oven?"
The sight roots me to the spot. My wings twitch, wanting to burst forward, to grab Annalise and drag her back to safety. But I can't move. Can't shatter this moment of... peace.
