Theodora Amari Xavier Nathan sat in the nursery, holding his little baby daughter. He rocked in the chair, the sleeping infant curled up adorably against his chest. She was perfect. Theodora Amari Xavier. Theodora for her grandmother, Dorothea. Amari was an African name Isis had picked out that meant ‘possesses great strength’ and Nathan could already tell the newborn did, if the grip she could get on his hair was any indication. He’d already lost more than a few strands when his head let go of them before her fingers did.
“You should get some rest,” he said softly to Isis. “‘Sleep when the baby sleeps,’” he quoted his sister-in-law, who had done this three times and probably knew what she was talking about. Merlin knew they weren’t getting more than a couple hours at a stretch at night.
But before she could take him up on that offer to escape, he ran a pinky over the soft dark skin of his baby’s cheeks and said in wonder, “We made a little person.” He looked up at his wife, feeling more than a little overwhelmed, but not in a bad way. “I love you both so much.” He kissed his baby lightly on her forehead. “And I adore you, little Dora.”