Kael’s POV
Dark hair ssy from sleep. Big black-gold eyes watching with that serious expression. Her unicorn stuffed animal tucked under one arm.
She looked so much like Aria.
The sa stubborn tilt to her chin. The sa way her nose scrunched up when she was thinking hard. Even the way she stood—one foot slightly forward, ready to run or fight depending on what happened next.
It was like looking at a miniature version of the woman sleeping in the bedroom.
And it was... adorable.
I didn’t know I was capable of finding anything adorable. But here I was. Standing in a disaster of a kitchen. Staring at a three-year-old with egg on my shirt.
Finding her absolutely, impossibly cute.
"Would you like to help?" The words ca out before I could stop them.
She looked up at . Surprised.
"Really?"
"Really." I nodded. "Two people are better than one, right? Maybe together we can make sothing your mother will actually want to eat."
Her face lit up.
That smile. God. It was like watching the sun rise.
"Okay!" She set her unicorn on the counter. Dragged a chair over to the stove. Climbed up. "What do I do?"
I looked at the pot. At the cloudy egg soup that definitely wasn’t going to win any awards.
"We need to start over," I decided. "This batch is... not good."
"Okay!" She didn’t seem bothered at all. Just watched dump the failed soup down the sink with interest.
I grabbed the phone again. Searched for another recipe. Sothing simple. Sothing a three-year-old and a hopeless Alpha could manage together.
"Rice porridge," I announced. "That looks easy enough."
"I LOVE rice porridge!" Lina bounced in her chair. "Mommy makes it for when I’m sick!"
"Perfect. Then you can tell if I’m doing it wrong."
We started gathering ingredients.
Rice. Water. A tiny bit of chicken broth I found hidden in the back of the cabinet. So salt.
"Okay." I asured the rice. "The recipe says to rinse it first."
"I can do that!" Lina reached for the bowl.
"Careful—"
Too late.
Water splashed everywhere. Rice grains scattered across the counter. A few bounced onto the floor.
"Oops." Lina giggled. "Sorry."
"It’s fine." I grabbed a towel. Started mopping up. "We’ll just... use what’s left."
We managed to get most of the rice into the pot. Added water. Set it to boil.
"Now we wait," I said.
"That’s boring." Lina swung her legs. "Can we add things?"
"What kind of things?"
"Mommy puts eggs in sotis. And vegetables. And..." She scrunched up her face. "I don’t rember what else."
"Eggs sound good." I grabbed another one. "Want to crack it?"
Her eyes went huge. "Really? Mommy never lets crack eggs. She says I always get shell in it."
"Then we’ll fish the shells out together."
I handed her the egg.
She held it like it was made of glass. Her little tongue stuck out in concentration.
Then she whacked it against the counter.
CRACK.
Egg exploded everywhere.
Shell. Yolk. White. All over her hands. All over the counter. So even managed to get on the ceiling.
I have no idea how she managed that.
"Oops." Her voice was tiny.
I looked at the ss.
Then at her face. Those big eyes filling with tears. Her bottom lip starting to tremble.
"Hey." I grabbed a paper towel. Started cleaning her hands. "It’s okay. That was actually impressive."
"Really?"
"Really. I’ve never seen soone get egg on the ceiling before. That takes talent."
She giggled. The tears disappeared. "I’m very strong."
"I can see that."
We cleaned up the egg disaster. Then I cracked a new egg. Let her pour it into the pot slowly while I stirred.
This ti it worked.
Sort of.
"What else should we add?" I asked.
Lina looked around the kitchen. Pointed at a carrot.
"That!"
"Okay. But we need to cut it first."
I chopped the carrot. Or tried to. The pieces ca out uneven. Chunky. Nothing like the perfect little cubes I’d seen in videos.
"They look funny," Lina observed.
"They’ll taste the sa," I said defensively.
We added the carrots. So salt. A tiny bit of the broth.
The pot was starting to look like... sothing.
Not appetizing. Not exactly. But maybe, possibly, potentially edible.
"It’s bubbling!" Lina pointed excitedly.
"That ans it’s cooking."
"When will it be done?"
I checked the recipe. "Fifteen more minutes."
We stood side by side. Watching the pot. Lina humming so song under her breath. trying to figure out when my life had turned into a cooking show disaster.
"You have flour in your hair," she announced.
"What?"
"Flour. Right there." She pointed at my head.
I touched my hair. My fingers ca away white.
"How did I get flour in my hair? We haven’t even used flour."
"I don’t know." She giggled again. "You’re ssy."
"You’re ssier."
"Am not!"
"Are too. You have soup on your face."
She wiped her cheek. Looked at her hand. More giggling.
"Okay. Maybe a little."
The tir went off.
I grabbed a spoon. Tasted the porridge.
We poured the porridge into a bowl. Found a lid to keep it warm. Set it on the counter where Aria could find it easily.
Then I looked around the kitchen.
It was destroyed.
Completely, utterly destroyed.
Egg on the ceiling. Rice on the floor. Water splashed across every surface. Dishes piled in the sink.
"We should probably clean up," I said.
"Okay!"
Lina grabbed a towel. Started wiping the counter with absolute determination.
She got about two inches clean before getting distracted by her reflection in the microwave door.
I took over. Grabbed more towels. Started the actual cleaning while she "helped" by moving things from one spot to another.
Twenty minutes later, the kitchen looked... better.
Not perfect. But better.
Good enough.
I was exhausted.
Actually, physically exhausted.
Making soup shouldn’t have been this hard. But sohow it was.
I collapsed onto the couch.
Lina climbed up beside . Then, without warning, crawled into my lap.
"Comfy," she announced. Snuggled against my chest.
I froze.
My arms hovered awkwardly around her. Not sure what to do. Not sure if this was allowed.
She looked up at . "You can hug . I don’t bite."
"I... okay."
I lowered my arms slowly. Carefully. Until they were wrapped loosely around her small body.
She was warm.
"You know," Lina said quietly. "I think you like my mommy."
The words were so matter-of-fact. So certain.
"What makes you say that?" I managed.
"You carried her ho. You made her soup. You cleaned her face." She ticked off points on her fingers. "And you look at her the way the prince looks at the princess in my storybooks."
I didn’t know what to say to that.
So I said nothing.
Lina shifted in my lap. Looked up at with those serious eyes.
"I don’t understand why you hit Uncle Cassius though." Her voice got quieter. "That was an. I hope you said sorry."
Because I was a jealous, possessive idiot who jumped to conclusions.
Lina called him Uncle Cassius. Not daddy. Which ant exactly what it sounded like.
"It was a misunderstanding," I said carefully. "I thought... I thought he was trying to hurt your mother. But I was wrong."
"Oh." She processed this. "So you’ll say sorry?"
"If I get the chance, yes. I’ll apologize."
She nodded. Satisfied.
"Good. Because Uncle Cassius is nice. He brings us food sotis. And he plays gas with . And he helped Mommy when we didn’t have anywhere to live."
Each word was another stab of guilt.
This man had been taking care of them. Helping them. Being there for them.
While I’d been searching the entire territory for Aria. Never thinking to look in the human world. Never considering that she might have built a life without .
"Even though I don’t have a daddy," Lina continued, "Uncle Cassius is kind of like one sotis."
My heart stopped.
"You don’t have a father?" The question ca out rougher than I intended.
She shook her head. "Nope. Just Mommy and . Sotis I ask Mommy if Uncle Cassius can be my daddy. But she always says no."
"Why?"
"I don’t know." She shrugged. "She just says so things can’t be that way. Even if we want them to be."
I tightened my arms around her slightly.
"But I really want a daddy," she whispered. Her voice got smaller. Younger. "All the other kids at school have daddies. And I want one too."
She looked up at .
"Would you want to be my daddy?"
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