She hid my son.
Raised him on drawings and bedtime lies. Now I’m his teacher. And the second I see those eyes—my eyes—I stop pretending. I don’t care what I was. Don’t care who I burned. He’s mine. She’s mine.
And I’m done playing house. I’ll build him a world worth inheriting. Or I’ll raze this one to ash. She says I’m too dangerous to be a father. She’s right. I sharpened my claws for war.
Now I use them to pack his lunch.
Read on for secret babies, alien warlords in disguise, claws-on parenting, and a monster who learns to kneel—for his son. HEA Guaranteed!
