Nate's POV Fatherhood terrified me more than any battle. Aurora was three months old but looked like a one year old. Supernatural genetics accelerated everything. Growth. Development. Learning. She walked at six weeks. Said her first word at eight. Mama. Dora cried for an hour. I was constantly worried. Every sound. Every stranger. Every moment she was out of my sight sent panic through me. The world was dangerous. People still hated us. Still wanted to hurt us. And Aurora was so small. So vulnerable. "You need to relax," Dora said one morning. I had checked Aurora's crib for the fifth time. "She is fine. Safe. You cannot hover forever." "Watch me," I said. Only half joking. "She is our daughter. Our responsibility. I will hover until she is thirty." "She is three months old." Dora laughed. Pulled me away. "And she needs sleep. Not
Last Updated : 2026-10-10 Read more