When Lydia didn't immediately go get the stupid book she'd come for, Derek heaved a sigh. If he was going to freak out, he didn't want to do it in front of an eighteen-year-old girl, that was for sure. "Look at her eyes," Derek said, frowning slightly. "You tell me."
As if on cue, Daisy squealed with inexplicable excitement and tugged Lydia's hand closer, shoving the teenager's finger into her mouth and her eyes lit up again, bright, brilliant gold.
Truthfully, as far as Derek could tell, based on the family he used to have, it was a crap shoot whether or not a baby with only one werewolf for a parent would be born. Sometimes they were. Sometimes they weren't. Daisy, apparently was.
"You want to help," Derek replied, less than asked. She'd left the baby in the car seat and just stood there next to her, she hadn't even been bent to try to calm the infant with hushed words, let alone figure out what was actually wrong and she wanted to help?