My biggest worry used to be whether my rogue character would finally loot that stupid dagger after six weeks of grinding.
Now? It’s surviving daycare pickup runs, cooking toddler-friendly meals without setting the house on fire, and not getting murdered by magical psychos.

It all started when my sister dumped her five-year-old son Adam on me because of some "emergency." I figured I’d Netflix, babysit, and maybe teach the kid how to fake sick days like a pro.
What I didn’t plan on? Finding out Adam’s got magic. The dangerous, world-shaking kind. The kind that paints a target on his tiny back so big you could see it from orbit.

Now I’m being chased by things that don’t show up on Google, trying to learn the rules of a secret magical war nobody thought to tell me about — and keeping a kid alive who thinks talking is optional.

All I ever wanted was to mind my own business. Instead, I’m about three bad decisions away from becoming the most undertrained, over-caffeinated babysitter in supernatural history.

If you like wisecracking rogues, silent kids who might be smarter than the adults, and fantasy worlds where bad decisions make excellent stories — welcome to Rogue and Cub.

Surviving Level One is gonna be a miracle.

Parenthood meets apocalypse. No refunds.