Roxy's indignant scream echoed down the second-floor hallway, her legs kicking uselessly in the air.
She clutched the sleeping, milk-drunk Tyara tightly to her chest to ensure the baby wasn't jostled, glaring up at the massive, thoroughly unapologetic White Tiger Alpha holding her.
Torian didn't even flinch. A deep, chest-rattling purr vibrated through his broad chest, signaling his absolute, smug satisfaction.
"You are not a kid," Torian agreed smoothly, his dark eyes entirely devoid of repentance as he carried her effortlessly toward the nursery. "You are my Queen. And my Queen has just awoken from a three-day sleep after pushing my heir into the world. You will let me pamper you, Roxy, or I will wrap you in furs and carry you around this Manor until winter comes."
Roxy let out a huff of exasperated breath, though a fond, helpless smile tugged at the corners of her lips. It was impossible to stay mad at him when he looked at her with such overwhelming, single-minded devotion.
