Alpha Ivan's Rogue Mate
I get an acknowledging hum from Nova and turn into the living room where I hear Ivan and the twins.
Coming up behind him, I grab Rowan and pull him into my chest, kissing the top of his head.
"Papà!" he squeals, giggling as I tickle him.
"How you feeling, Roe?" I ask, feeling his forehead and silently thanking the Goddess he doesn’t have a fever.
His cheeks aren’t red, and he’s smiling with a snot-free nose.
He jabbers something at me, not really having the words yet.
The twins are only 14 months, and Ronan seems to be the talker, while Rowan is the little daredevil.
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