"Alpha," Whisper said, soft laugh in her voice. "Hand over the baby."

Her husband was clearly quite comfortable with little Anya snuggled up against his chest as he read a story the newborn certainly couldn’t understand. He gave Whisper a boyish grin. "We're enjoying ourselves."

"I can see that," Whisper agreed, "but it's past her bedtime." An amused pause. "And yours."

She held out her arms until with a sigh, he sat up and handed Anya over.

"I don't have a bedtime," he said.

“Without enough sleep, you grouse more than she does.”

He hmphed but wisely did not argue.

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