"You know what I'm thinking? I think I'll just take her from you, you don't look like you can handle her," Cyrus said, holding his hands out to take the baby from Caleb.
"No, I said I can take care of her, why are you fighting over it now?" Caleb replied, shrugging as he cradled the baby closer to his chest.
"Are you both really going to fight over who's going to take care of the baby?" Alpha Magnus asked, stepping between them with an amused expression, arms folded across his chest.
Cyrus turned slightly. "With all due respect, father, have you seen the way he holds her? Like she's made of glass."
Caleb rolled his eyes. "Because she is delicate, Cyrus. She's not a sword to be tossed around."
"She's not yours either," Cyrus shot back, lifting a brow. "You act like you're the only one who cares."
"She's not yours either," Caleb muttered, adjusting the blanket around the baby as she let out a soft sigh and nestled closer.
