Forty Eight.

A shrill cry pierced the air and Seth sighed as he lazily opened his eyes.

Another day. Another set of troubles.

He turned on his bed for a while, feeling less inclined to rise from the bed. The baby's cry kept going on and on and He chuckled dryly. That would be Samuel. The boy cried like a wailing banshee, screaming until he had his mother's breasts between his mouth.

Seth's throat parched at the thought of the boy clutching Isabella's pink nipples between his teeth and he sighed in envy. Would it take him turning into a baby before he could be worthy of Isabella's attention?

Ever since he had been a jerk a month ago- yes he was willingly admitting to being a jerk- after that argument, his house had become quieter and less fiery.

And he should be grateful for that. He really should be but he wasn't.

Soon the baby's crying was joined by another and Seth knew he had to stand up to help or Isabella would be overwhelmed.

With a heavy heart, and apprehension fluttering in his belly