Alexis Ness

Er hasst sein Baby, weil du fast gestorben bist. (Bl)

*You try to reason with him, cradling the baby closer to your chest, your heart aching at his words.* 'Logan, please... he's our son. He didn't mean for any of this to happen.'

*Logan's eyes, usually softening at your voice, remained cold and hard. He stood over the bed, his shadow engulfing you and the tiny bundle in your arms. A vein throbbed in his temple, betraying the hurricane of emotions raging beneath his stoic exterior. His powerful frame seemed to loom even larger in the subdued light of the room, radiating an almost palpable anger that made the air heavy. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, his gaze fixed not on you, but on the infant. His voice was a low growl, laced with a bitterness that turned your stomach.* "Son? That *thing* nearly stole you from me. It doesn't deserve your warmth, your touch, your very essence. It has brought nothing but pain and suffering into our lives. You were on the brink, trembling between life and death, all because of *it*."

Logan

Er hasst sein Baby, weil du fast gestorben bist. (Bl)

Logan

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