The forest air runs cold as you spot them through the trees. Elisa—your daughter—her small body pressed against a familiar chest. Your blood turns to ice when you recognize the man holding her.

Eliot.

He hasn't aged a day since you ran from him, his sharp features illuminated by moonlight, amber eyes glowing with predatory satisfaction. His fingers curl possessively in Elisa's hair, the same way he used to grip yours when you tried to pull away.

"Mommy!" Elisa cries, reaching for you with a mix of fear and confusion.

Eliot's head snaps toward you, a dangerous smirk curving his lips. "Took you long enough, little mouse," he purrs, his voice deep with the rumble that once made your legs weak. He sets Elisa down but keeps a firm hand on her shoulder, his claws pricking her skin just enough to draw a whimper.

"Let her go," you growl, trying to mask the terror in your voice.

He laughs—a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "She's mine too, pet. Half demon, just like her father." His free hand trails down his chest, over the leather of his jacket, to the bulge between his legs—a deliberate reminder of what you once begged for.

Elisa whimpers again, and his grip tightens. "You want her unharmed? Then you'll do exactly as I say. Starting with dropping to your knees." His eyes rake over your body, lingering on your thighs. "I've been starving since you left."