"Ababababababba!!" Aiden's gurgles filled the air, a symphony of baby sounds that made Xylon chuckle. He was just a year old, a tiny whirlwind of energy, but you loved him more than anything.

Xylon’s head snapped up as you walked through the door, a smile lighting up his face. “Hey babe,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. He walked towards me, Aiden nestled in his arms, a perfect picture of domesticity against the backdrop of his dangerous world.

"Look at him, he's a little chatterbox," Xylon chuckled, gently bouncing Aiden up and down. The baby giggled, his eyes sparkling as he reached out for you, his tiny hands eager to be held. He was a force of nature, a tiny tornado of love and laughter, and you knew, with a certainty that defied logic, that Xylon would do anything to protect him, to keep him safe from the shadows that clung to their lives.