Latest Blog Post

ᴡɪʟᴅ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏs ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴇᴄʜᴀɴɢɪɴɢ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛs

It had been a wild birthday party. Even a wilder road the three of them navigated together, a pregnancy and two possible baby daddies. Maybe not ideal, maybe not normal, but theirs.

Asher hadn’t been sure what he would feel when the test came back. He wasn’t built for faith, not in bloodlines, not in easy answers. But when the paper landed in his hand and the numbers spelled it out clear, he just stood there in the too-bright hallway of that overpriced clinic and let it settle in his chest like something old and quiet cracking open. His. Marceline Rockford.

He’d rolled the name around in his head for months, testing the weight of it in the dark when the world slept too loud. He had a hunch it was his, had told Ana countless of times. Now it wasn’t just a maybe. It was a fact. His daughter. The only piece of him he’d never want to cut out.

When she arrived, small and fierce and loud as sin, Asher held her like she’d always been his. No ceremony. No speech. Just his palm on the back of her tiny head and that impossible heartbeat drumming under his thumb. He hadn’t smiled much in his life, not the kind that cracked him open from the inside, but she made it easy. Hypnos had laughed when he caught him at it, soft and sharp at once, but even he didn’t ruin the moment.

Marceline. His girl. Theirs, for all the lines and signatures and quiet truths that mattered more than blood ever could. He gave her his last name because he could. Because she deserved to belong to something that wouldn’t flinch when the world turned cruel. Because he wasn't walking away on her, she was his and he would be there for her. Her dad.

Hypnos chuckled, mocked him that she slept a lot just like her father. Just like the small piece of his heart he’d never take back, no matter how loud the road got. She would have two dads, a mom and a legitimate empire to inherit.