Combat Class

"Careful with her delicate neck," I murmured, physically adjusting Sylas’s stiff, tense arms. I carefully tucked a fussing Lyra directly into his chest right in the middle of his pristine, gleaming white laboratory. "You have to actively take the time to properly support her head like this, and make sure you angle the bottle just right when you feed her so she doesn't swallow too much air."

Sylas