Chapter Fifty-Four: Terrorist

It's pudgy, it's terrifying, and it's soft and smells like butter, or is it toffee?

"Baaabbaa"

And it utters nonsense all the time.

There is nothing dignified about the way the little gremlin eats pumpkin squash with its fat hands and then proceeds to spit it out immediately.

Ew.

"How, uh, how old is he now?"

I cannot recall the answer she gives; my question is aimed at politeness since the 'double date' has already been ruined by the little terrorist.

The conversations between Alba and I remain flat, while the Alpha and Lycan hit it off enough to head to the gold course together on a dare.

I almost wanted to insist that he take the baby with him, but Alba seemed okay caring for him...without her husband or my help—not that my help would be worth much.

"You okay?"

She asks finally as she turns to face me instead of her little gremlin for the first time since the men left.

"Just fine, why?"

"Because the Lycan told me what was happening with your mother in the home you grew up in."

"Chr