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“Here, try some of this,” Uriel said quietly. “It’s angel hair, so it’s squishier than the other pastas.”

Bruiser froze. It hadn’t occurred to him to get food that was soft enough for a baby. Thankfully he had thought to vary the pasta types in his order, if only because Phalen always bitched about restaurants having the same five kinds of noodles.

He dipped his garlic bread in the chicken tortilla soup—it was delicious.

Uriel snorted quietly. When Bruiser leaned sideways to peek out of the kitchen, he found the child with her face covered in tomato sauce. That was kind of funny.

He couldn’t help his laugh—quickly covered up by a cough.

Uriel turned at the sound. Only to freeze when his baby grabbed a meatball and flung it across the room. It bounced off the floor and went rolling.

Uriel sighed, slow and heavy. “Cassie. No throwing food, please.”

The mage leaned against the couch and stared blankly at the meatball, looking wiped. After a while, he crooked a finger to summon the meatball off the floor, then scrawled a shimmering gold spell to clean up the mess.

Bruiser almost offered the bed again, but he knew in his gut that Uriel wouldn’t accept it. He popped a cup of soft serve ice cream in the freezer, then tucked the rest of the takeout boxes into the fridge. He kept out his own share of ice cream and brownie, though. Like the rest of the food, they were delicious.

There wasn’t much to clean up. When he was done eating, Bruiser left the kitchen, pausing in the living room. Uriel stiffened up again.

“The ice cream is in the freezer,” Bruiser said. “And there’s an extra helping of brownie. Leftover soup too. Eat whatever. I’m headed to bed. ‘Night.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but he remained listening to the pair in the living room. After some time, Uriel finally unfroze, his feet padding quietly to the kitchen.

Bruiser listened as the mage moved around, checking the exits. Magic hummed through the air, a light prickle on Bruiser’s skin—a protective spell being cast over the cabin.

It was for Cassie, Bruiser knew. But it felt nice anyway, knowing he wasn’t the only one watching his own back.

In his dream, a small red-haired omega stood before him, tiny and perfect, his thin arms wrapped around a baby.

“Aerie,” Bruiser said with a jolt of recognition. “Is that...?”

The omega beamed. “I have your child.”

“Where have you been?” Bruiser said. “I tried looking for you.”

Aerie shrugged and smiled again. The baby was a newborn, eyes scrunched shut, and Bruiser knew—it was theirs.

He reached out, only for Aerie to make a face and step away.

“Sorry,” Aerie said.

And he vanished into thin air.

Bruiser’s stomach plummeted. He jerked and shot upright, only to realize he was alone.

Where was Aerie? Where was their baby?

The loss hit him hard. He didn’t know either of them. Hell, the baby had to be older now, maybe a year old? No longer the tiny bundle in Aerie’s arms. He looked around wildly, holding back the urge to jump out of bed on a wild search.

He had already tried looking; his friends with more resources had searched on his behalf. If Aerie had any intention of coming to him, he would have long before this.

Unless he had been captured.

No, no. That couldn’t happen. Bruiser shook off that chilling thought. Somewhere out there, the omega was doing okay with their baby. That was all he could allow himself to think, or he would go insane.

He swallowed, only now realizing that he wasn’t in his own bed.

Right. This was a cabin he had rented yesterday, in the middle of the woods, chosen so he could be on standby to intercept deliveries by a human trafficking ring.