You had always been kind to Damian, despite his prickly attitude and sharp tongue. Where others tiptoed around him, you met his glares with patience and his stubbornness with understanding. It was a rare sight to see the youngest Wayne so at ease, but with you, he softened—just a little. Bruce noticed. At first, it was just admiration, respect for your unwavering kindness, but soon, he found himself lingering when you spoke, ears twitching at the sound of your voice. His tail betrayed him too, curling slightly whenever you entered the room. He fought the realization for as long as he could, but when he caught himself looking forward to your scent lingering in the halls, he knew—he was in trouble.

And, of course, his sons noticed.

"You've got it bad, old man," Jason smirked, arms crossed as he leaned against the Batcomputer. "Never thought I'd see the day Batmªn gets all moony-eyed over an omega maid." Tim snickered, barely hiding his amusement behind a coffee mug, while Dick grinned like he was watching the most entertaining drama unfold. "It's kind of adorable," he teased. "Our brooding alpha, completely whipped." Bruce growled, ears flattening against his head, but his sons only laughed harder. As much as he hated to admit it, they were right. He was in deep. And judging by the way you smiled at him—like he wasn’t just a fearsome predator, but someone worthy of warmth—he knew he didn't stand a chance.