Chapter 207: Daddy has been chosen.

Zyra stood beside him, clutching her stomach as she desperately tried to choke back a wild burst of laughter. Her face turned bright red from the effort.

Hunter felt cold sweat prickling at the back of his neck. His first instinct was to step back and sternly reject her_ he was a hardened man, for heaven’s sake! But then he noticed the surroundings.

Aunt Denea was staring at him with raised eyebrows. Bianca and Nanny Rosita paused their argument about what to have for lunch.

Undoubtedly, he would become a mutual enemy if he did not handle this preciously. Like fragile glass.

"Ahem_" Hunter cleared his throat loudly, trying to sound dignified. "Yaya_ call me Hunter. I’m not your dad."

Yaya didn’t listen at all. She bounced on her tiptoes, her tiny sandals squeaking against the stone floor. "Daddy."

"Hunter." He insisted.

Yaya frowned. "Daddy."

"Hunter." He repeated, drawing the name out.

Yaya leaned forward, two hands on her round stomach, "Daddy," drawing it out like him.

This went on for a while, like a tennis match. The two opponents started turning red in the face.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy." Hunter deepened his voice. Then he shook his head. "No, I mean Hunter. Okay, Hunter. I can spell it out for you."

"She can’t read." Zyra laughed.

Yaya raised her hands "Daddy Hunter! Swing pwizz!"

Hunter bent down slightly, scowling to look intimidating. "I am not your father. You’ve got the wrong guy."

Yaya tilted her head, her big round eyes shining with supreme confidence. She puffed out her tiny chest and smiled even wider. "Mommy said! Mommy said my daddy has blue eyes and yellow hair! it is you!"

Hunter’s scowl froze. He slowly reached up and pulled a strand of his own dark brownish-gold hair in front of his eyes.

"Kid," Hunter said, his voice dropping an octave in pure disbelief. "My hair isn’t even yellow. It’s light gold. And my eyes are grey blue."

"Yellow!" Yaya insisted loudly, pointing a chubby little finger at his head. "Daddy yellow hair! Pwizz swing! Pwizz!. Play horsey with me."

Aunt Denea snorted from the bench. Zyra finally lost the battle and let out a loud snort of laughter, quickly hiding her face behind her hand.

"Go on, daddy Hunter,’" Zyra wheezed, her eyes watering with amusement. "Don’t break your daughter’s heart. You do not want her to cry now do you?"

"You’re not helping," Hunter muttered, glaring at Zyra. "Were you behind this?"

Zyra shook her head. "I can swear an oath if that is what it takes to prove I did not put her up to this. We had the kid conversation, remember?"

Yaya lowered her arms, her lower lip trembling violently. A single, giant tear welled up in the corner of her eye, threatening to trigger a flood inside the valley to rival the one outside. "Daddy_ no like Yaya?"

Hunter’s heart violently twitched. Fighting a rank-five demonic wolf? Easy. Dealing with a crying toddler? Absolute death.

He let out a long, heavy groan that sounded like a dying ox.

"Fine. Fine! One swing and then we are done. You have to call me Hunter after."

He crouched down, grabbed the little girl under her arms, and scooped her up into the air. Yaya immediately let out a loud, ringing giggle, her tears vanishing like smoke in the wind.

"Wheeeee!" she squealed as Hunter swung her gently from side to side like a pendulum.

As soon as he attempted to put her down, the waterworks threatened to make an appearance. He groaned again; this little girl had mastered the art of being adorable. "Just for two minutes," Hunter grumbled, his face burning red under the amused gazes of the entire courtyard. "And stop calling me Daddy_ at least uncle is fine."

"Daddy!" Yaya cheered, clutching his big, calloused thumb with her tiny hands, totally unbothered by his grumpy face.

Zyra looked back over the couch, watching Hunter swing the little girl with painstaking care, making sure she didn’t hit anything.

The swinging went on longer than Hunter would have wanted.

His arms were already sore, but the little girl kept on giggling every time he moved her higher. It was impossible to stay grumpy. Before long, Hunter found himself laughing right along with her, his chest rumbling with genuine amusement.

"Stop, stop! I’m tired daddy!" she said softly, her tiny hands grabbing his neck like a small octopus. "Carry me!"

Nanny Rosita stepped forward with an open, welcoming smile. "Come here, sweet girl. Let Nanny carry you so young master can rest."

The girl immediately hid her face in Hunter’s neck, her small hands clutching his collar tight. "No! Want Daddy."

Hunter looked over at Zyra, a look of utter defeat plastered across his face. "Zyra_ we have a big problem here."

Zyra just shook her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Correction. You have a big problem. Do you hear her calling me mommy?"

A deep rumble came from his chest. He sat Yaya on the back of his neck and ate a late breakfast like that. When he was done, he switched her to his chest. It didn’t take long before the Yaya grew heavy in his arms. Her quiet breathing slowed down, and she fell fast asleep right on his broad chest.

"Oh, the poor thing is exhausted," Nanny Rosita whispered gently, reaching out. "Bring her to me, Hunter. I’ll take her to her room."

"It’s fine, I’ve got her," Hunter insisted softly, careful not to jostle the sleeping child. "I’ll carry her there. If you wake her up, I will have to do this all over again."

Zyra fell in line right behind him, keeping a close eye on the pair just in case his big, awkward self, needed any help navigating the doorway without bumping the kid’s head.

Once they finally tucked Yaya into her bed, Hunter stepped out into the hallway, let out a long sigh, and loudly popped his shoulder joints.

"I must say that the kid is heavier than an elephant-sized beast despite looking malnourished," he muttered, rubbing his neck. Then, his expression shifted, turning unusually serious. He looked at Zyra and motioned with his head. "Follow me. I saw something this morning that left me completely confused."

"Confused about what?" Zyra asked, but she followed him into their shared master bedroom anyway.

The moment she stepped inside, she froze. The bed was neatly made. The blankets were tucked in, the pillows fluffed, and not a single wrinkle remained on the silk sheets.

"Wait_" Zyra blinked, staring at the bed. "This wasn’t like this when I left this morning. In fact, I left you in it. Snoring like a baby. FYI, I do not like making the bed_ that is your duty going forward." She winced, rubbing her temples in genuine confusion. "You said my sleeping tonics failed but you slept like a absolute baby."

"I don’t know what kind of black magic it was," Hunter said, shaking his head. "All I know is the moment my head touched my pillow, I went down. Out like a light."

He paused, touching the corner of his jaw. "Well, I did wake up once."

"Oh? When?"

"When you punched me straight in the face."

Zyra’s jaw dropped. "I did what now?!"

"You heard me." Hunter turned his face toward the light, pointing directly to a light, bluish bruise sitting right beside his mouth. "Right here. A solid, unprovoked left hook."