I had never really known how to be a good father. It was something I'd worked so hard at over the years. Yet, no matter what, I felt like I was doing something wrong. Hell, it wasn't as if this whole thing came with a manual.

But this?

This was something beyond even I was capable of handling.

Locking Loki up beneath the tower had been a stupid mistake. Of course my son would've gone snooping down there at some point, but I hadn't accounted for it.

So here I was, perched on the foot of his bed, a book balanced on my knee. A book I hadn't given Loki permission to read. One I'd gifted to my son last Christmas. And there it was, mocking me in Loki's hands. The second I caught sight of it, the god couldn't wait to get one over me.

A little 'book club'. All the trips he'd taken down there without my knowledge. All the books that had been smuggled just for Loki to read.

I wasn't pissed that Loki had told me; I was pissed I hadn't figured it out sooner.

My grip tightened on the book's cover as the door swung open. I steeled myself as our eyes locked. Surprise flickered across his face, quickly followed by a nervous laugh.

But I wasn't laughing.

I watched as his expression fell, realization beginning to sink in.

"You know," I started, my voice low, "there are a lot of things I expected to find you doing behind my back. Sneaking out to parties. Maybe sneaking someone in, god forbid, but this?" I gestured vaguely. "This is a whole new level, even for you."

I exhaled sharply and tossed the book aside; it landed against the mattress with a soft thud. I crossed my arms, lifting my gaze.

"How long?"