Page 109 of Falling in Love with A Tiny Bat

Ihavea baby now.

Must be the stress.

Either way, it helps make it seem like Idon’thave my own baby.

Which furthers the impending sense of dread associated with manipulation.

“She’s beautiful,” I whisper, basically croaking the words, like a manipulative, evil jerk, who should be taken out back and shot. I skim my thumb across Terra’s soft, dark brown cheek. She’s significantly darker than Pila. With the start of some exceptionally curly hair creating little swirls atop her head.

It reminds me of Ash.

But there’s no blood betweenanyof them.

And raising a sapling baby that sprouted from a mango is anadoptivemother situation no matter how you slice it, meaning we are literally the same and I am not withholding Terra’s brother.

Dryads are not boys.

Ash wouldn’t have existed solely under Pila’s care.

He’smybaby. And that’s final.

Pila, seated on the floor in front of me in a flowing emerald gown smiles, exuding peace. “In other domains, the fae are known for robbing cradles. We could locate an infant for you.”

“Pila!” Ollie crosses his arms, exasperated. “We shouldn’t steal babies.”

Pila’s green eyes widen as she pushes the dark curtain of her hair back over her long ear. “Why not? We’ll find one in need of a better home. It will be simple. Like taking children from bad parents so we can give them candy.”

Willow’s eyes narrow, and she lifts a brow. “No, no, Ollie. She has a point. I mean, that’s not the idiom, but she has a point.”

While Ollie is busy considering that Willow condones child theft—even though Willow is supposed to be in the Villain Protection Program and know full well I alreadyhavea borderline-stolen baby—Cael sighs, folds his arms, and says, “I don’t believe I can allow that level of meddling in human affairs. Also—” His attention fixes on me. “—given your fae blood andinevitable transformation into a full asteriai, raising a human baby is ill-advised. Unless, of course, you’re willing to outlive them.”

I sniffle. Again. And refrain from saying,Ha, yes. Good thing I found myself a faerie baby to steal instead of a human one.

Because, again, I did not steal him.

Alexios did.

But also he didn’t.

Because all he took was a sapling, and a sapling isn’t a baby, and it wouldn’t have become a baby if Alexios hadn’t taken it.

You can’t steal something that wouldn’t have existed.

That’s silliness.

Terra smiles in her sleep, and I swallow—hard. “No, I don’t think I’m willing to outlive them…”

“Children aren’t too difficult to come by,” Pollux grumbles from where he’s sitting with his little family on the love seat. “With the right ingredients, I could try and make one for you.”

“Daddy!” Andromeda exclaims, throwing a finger toward me. “Zahr-Zahr andYama-nii-niineed to try and make onetogether. That’s how it works. Right, Mrs. Role?”

Poor Kassandra opens her mouth, only to close it again and clear her throat.

I stare dead at her. “What are you teaching my innocent beans,Mrs. Role?”

“Wow, look,” Willow drones before Kassandra can reply. “Movies. What are we watching tonight on this rareeveryone is hereweek?” Sprawling dismally, she pins her husband, Zylus, with a distressed look. “I need fewer friends.”

He kisses her forehead. “We need a larger living room.”

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