Chapter 27: Chapter Twenty Seven

The newborn was no longer than his forearm.

A tiny thing. Just days old.

Five days, to be exact.

He’d waited nine mortal months to see it in the flesh, now it was here, a bundle of soft, healthy skin and a thrumming, developing heart. Less bloody and far more endearing than when it took its first, wailing gasp of air five days ago.

Cupping the baby in his large palm, he held it aloft, analyzing the petite features, long lashes, the wild tuft of black hair, and the elfin nose and tiny ears. Soft. Breakable. He could curl his fingers into a fist and easily crush the newborn until its delicate ribs closed in around its organs.

Death would be quick.

His fingers tightened out of morbid curiosity, smiling as the newborn squirmed and emitted a sound of displeasure.

No.

His fingers loosened before the midwife overheard. He’d observed newborn mortals before—several before as their parents sought for his blessings. Never did he feel any sort of gentle affection for them. They were, after all, m