The Demon’s Secret Baby

6. Zylpha

6

ZYLPHA

I wake up to the sound of waves lapping against the shore, a gentle reminder of my new life on Aurelius. The morning light filters through the leaves of my treehouse, casting dappled shadows on the floor. Stretching, I smile at the lingering warmth in my muscles from yesterday's... activities with Volezimir.

A soft knock on my door sends a flutter through my chest. I open it to find Volezimir, his imposing figure filling the doorway.

His eyes light up when he sees me, the gold turning molten, and it does something to me every time. "Good morning, Sunshine. Care for some breakfast?"

His deep voice washes over me, and I can't help but grin. "I'd love some."

We make our way to a small clearing where he's laid out a spread of fresh fruits and bread. As we eat, he grows quiet, his golden eyes distant.

"What's on your mind?" I ask, nudging his arm.

He sighs. "I have to head back to the castle for a day or two. There are some duties waiting that I can't ignore any longer."

My heart sinks a little. "Oh. When do you leave?"

"After this." He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'll be back before you know it."

I nod, trying to hide my disappointment. It's silly, really. I've spent most of my life alone, yet after nearly two weeks spending every day with Volezimir, the thought of him leaving makes my chest ache.

"Hey," he says, tilting my chin up. "You gonna be okay?"

I force a smile. "Of course. I'm not some damsel who can't function without her demon knight."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Never thought you were, Sunshine."

After breakfast, I walk with Volezimir to his temporary home. As he prepares to leave, I realize something. I don't want to be alone, but I don't have to be.

With a final kiss, Volezimir steps through the portal, leaving me alone but not lonely.

Later that day, I find myself in a room with other Aurelians. Maps and plans are spread across a large table, and the air buzzes with anticipation. June stands at the head of the table, her face serious.

"Alright, folks," she says. "We've got intel on a ship docking in Orthani tomorrow night. It's carrying human captives."

My stomach clenches at the memory of my own captivity, but I push it aside. This is why I'm here.

"Zylpha," June calls, catching my eye. "You've been through this. Any insights?"

I step forward, my voice steady as I begin to share what I know. For the first time in a long while, I feel like I'm part of something bigger than myself. And as we dive into the rescue plans, I realize that even without Volezimir, I'm not alone anymore.

The night of the mission arrives, and I find myself crouched behind a stack of crates at the edge of the docks. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat a reminder of what's at stake. The dark, flexible clothing June provided clings to my skin, allowing me to blend into the shadows.

I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves. The salty sea air fills my lungs, mingling with the acrid smell of tar and fish. Distant laughter from a nearby tavern drifts on the breeze, a stark contrast to the tension coiling in my gut.

A guard passes by, his boots scraping against the weathered wood of the dock. I hold my breath, pressing myself flat against the crates. His torch casts flickering shadows, and for a moment, I'm sure he'll spot me. But he moves on, oblivious to my presence.

Once he's gone, I slip from my hiding spot, keeping low as I dart between shadows. The ship looms before me, a dark silhouette against the star-studded sky. I can almost feel the fear emanating from its hull, memories of my own captivity threatening to overwhelm me.

I push them aside, focusing on the task at hand. June's voice echoes in my head, reminding me of the plan. "Find the hatch on the port side," she'd said. "It'll lead you to the cargo hold."

My eyes scan the ship's side, searching for the entrance. There – a faint outline barely visible in the darkness. I glance around, making sure the coast is clear, then make a dash for it.

My fingers fumble with the latch, slick with sweat and sea spray. A metallic click sends a jolt of panic through me, sure I've been discovered. But no alarm sounds, no shouts ring out.

Carefully, I ease the hatch open and slip inside. The stench hits me first – unwashed bodies, fear, and despair. As my eyes adjust to the gloom, I make out huddled forms chained to the walls.

"I'm here to help," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the creaking of the ship. "We're going to get you out of here."

A soft whimper answers me, followed by the rattle of chains as someone shifts. I move closer, my heart racing as I realize just how many captives are crammed into this small space.

I pull a set of lock picks from my belt, my hands shaking slightly as I approach the first captive. The woman's eyes widen in fear, but I put a finger to my lips, silently urging her to stay quiet. The lock is simple, and within seconds, I hear the satisfying click of it opening.

"Follow me," I whisper, helping her to her feet. "Stay low and quiet."

One by one, I move through the hold, freeing the captives. The air grows thick with tension, each clink of the chains setting my nerves on edge. Sweat beads on my forehead, and I have to pause to wipe it away, my heart pounding so loudly I'm sure someone will hear it.

A sudden creak from above freezes us all in place. Footsteps. I hold my breath, counting the seconds as they pass overhead. Once they fade, I motion for the group to move.

We creep towards the hatch, a line of shadows in the dim light. I peer out, scanning the dock for any sign of guards. The coast seems clear, but my gut twists with anxiety. It feels too easy.

"Okay," I breathe, turning to the group. Their faces are etched with fear and hope. "We're going to move fast and quiet. Stay close."

I lead them out onto the dock, my eyes darting everywhere at once. The night air feels cool on my skin after the stuffy hold, but I can't relax. Not yet.

"Okay go!" I hiss.

They move down the dock, keeping their footsteps light but it still sounds loud in the quiet of the night. At the other end of the dock, another person is waiting to guide people down on to the ship, dark against the inky water.

Another woman stands at the helm, helping people onto the boat as fast as she can. Once I see that most have filed on, I double back, wanting to make sure I got everyone. There's no shouts, no sign that anyone has caught what we've done, and I'm not taking any chances.

I slip back onto the ship, my heart pounding in my ears. The wooden planks creak beneath my feet as I move down the narrow hallway, checking each room. The stench of unwashed bodies and fear still lingers in the air, making my stomach churn.

As I round a corner, I hear muffled sobs. My breath catches in my throat. Three more women, huddled in a small, dank cabin, their eyes wide with terror as I enter.

"It's okay," I whisper, fumbling with my lock picks. "I'm here to help."

Their chains fall away with a soft clink. One woman, her face gaunt and bruised, grabs my arm. "Did you get the others?" she rasps.

I nod. "I think so. Come on, we need to move."

We creep along the corridor, every shadow making me flinch. The ship groans and shifts beneath us, and I pray it's just the waves and not someone coming to check on the prisoners.

"Are there any rooms I need to check?" I ask as softly as I can.

The girls point to two rooms I've already emptied, so I just nod and usher them back out the way I came.

Finally, we reach the hatch. The cool night air hits my face as I peer out, scanning the docks. It seems clear, but my gut twists with unease. Something feels off.

"Run," I hiss to the women. "Straight ahead. There's a ship waiting."

They scramble out, their bare feet pattering on the wooden planks. I follow, my eyes darting everywhere at once. The ship is so close, I can see her silhouette.

That's when I hear it. A shout, followed by the pounding of boots.

"Go!" I yell to the women. "Run!"

They sprint towards the ship as I turn, ready to cause a distraction. My mind races, searching for a plan. Maybe I can knock over some crates, start a fire-

A hand clamps down on my shoulder, iron-strong and unforgiving. I try to wrench away, but the grip only tightens.

"Well, well," a low voice growls in my ear. "What do we have here?"