Hope was three weeks old and had already accidentally frozen time twice, which according to Morgana was "unprecedented for an infant" but according to me was just terrifying because what kind of baby could manipulate temporal magic before they could hold their own head up?
Our kind, apparently. The bond-hybrid kind. The impossible kind.
"She's not crying." Riven's observation came at 2 AM during what I was generously calling a feeding even though Hope seemed more interested in making the bottle hover than actually drinking from it. "That's—is that normal?"
Normal. Right. Because we had so much data on what was normal for the first documented bond-hybrid baby conceived through death-transcending mate bonds.
