Roxy gently pushed the door open, stepping quietly into the nursery.

The room was bathed in the warm, golden light of the morning. Little Fedor was not in his bassinet. Instead, the Kitsune infant was sitting happily in the very centre of the plush, oversized fur rug.

The red gemstone around his neck pulsed with a faint, calm silver light, courtesy of Kaito’s dampening spell. Fedor was letting out bright, bubbly giggles, entirely captivated by the figure sitting cross-legged on the floor right in front of him.

"Oh my~ So cute!" She cooed, not believing Fedor could be this social with Kira, even though he was never social to the others.

Sitting on the plush rug, softly cooing at the Kitsune heir and gently waving a small, carved wooden toy to keep his attention, was Kira.

Kira looked up, her warm, familiar face breaking into a massive, radiant smile. The older wolf helper possessed a sturdier build than the warriors, her dark hair heavily threaded with rich, distinguished silver.

She brought with her the deep, distinct, and incredibly grounding scent of the wolf pack’s communal territory, a mixture of woodsmoke, tanned leather, and dried winter herbs. She set the wooden toy down, allowing the Kitsune infant to clumsily bat at it with his chubby little hands.

Roxy had never even thought there would be someone else in the house.

"Surprise, Matriarch," Kira chuckled, her voice a warm, gravelly rumble. "Did you really think I was going to let the entire spring season pass without coming up the mountain to see the newest prince of the Iron-Wood?"

Kira was one of the ladies that Mara had sent to help.

"It has been too long!" Roxy laughed, the sheer delight completely washing over her as she rushed forward.

She dropped to her knees on the thick fur rug, throwing her arms around the wolf helper in a fierce, breathless hug. Kira squeezed her back just as tightly, her embrace possessing that solid, maternal comfort that Roxy had desperately missed.

The older children—Axel, Onyx, Iris, and Tanith—who had clearly orchestrated this entire morning ambush, immediately piled around them, cheering and giggling at their mother’s completely stunned reaction.

"The perimeter guards let her in at dawn," Axel explained proudly, puffing out his chest as he adjusted his tunic. "But Papa Kae said you were... uh... entirely indisposed and could not be disturbed under any circumstances. So we formed a tactical extraction team and hid her in the nursery!"

Roxy felt a massive, fiery blush creep up her neck at her sons’ blunt interpretation of Kaelen’s intensely clingy morning, but she quickly waved it off with a laugh. She pulled back from the hug, looking down at Fedor. The baby boy was completely unbothered by the loud noise, his stunning olive-green eyes tracking a faint, silvery illusion of a butterfly that had escaped from his dampened red gemstone.

"I am so glad you are here, Kira," Roxy said, her heart swelling until it physically ached. "The Manor has been absolute, unadulterated chaos lately. I feel like I haven’t had a single moment to just sit and breathe without a cosmic threat looming over my head."

"I heard about the dire-boar incident," Kira said, shooting a highly knowing, exasperated look at the wolf twins, who suddenly found the vaulted ceiling incredibly fascinating. "And the Snake King’s awakening. You have your hands full, Roxy. But look at them. They are healthy. They are perfect."

For the next hour, Roxy completely surrendered to the simple, grounding joy of motherhood. The apocalyptic threats of Abaddon and the heavy, terrifying crown of the Matriarch were entirely forgotten. She sat cross-legged on the rug, surrounded by her chaotic, beautiful family and her trusted friend.

It was a symphony of perfectly unscripted domestic bliss. She helped Tyara build a wobbly tower out of wooden blocks, playfully scolding the tiger cub when she tried to chew on a square piece. She praised Tanith’s beautiful new silver dress, marvelling at how gracefully the ten-year-old snake-shifter carried herself. She watched Iris read a picture book to a waddling Zale, and she bounced a giggling Little Fedor on her lap.

It was the perfect, idyllic Beastworld morning. The sun streaming through the frosted glass was warm, the air smelled of sweet baby powder, and her transmigrated soul felt completely at peace.

Roxy lifted Fedor high up in the air, blowing a loud, exaggerated raspberry against his plump little tummy. The Kitsune infant shrieked with absolute delight, his tiny white fox ears twitching frantically.

"You are getting so heavy, my little fox!" Roxy cooed, lowering him back down to kiss his fiery red curls. "You are going to be as big as Torian before we know it."

She laughed, throwing her head back, completely entirely consumed by the pure joy of the moment.

But right in the middle of her laughter, the idyllic morning violently, abruptly shattered.

It didn’t happen slowly. It hit her with the concussive, unstoppable force of a runaway freight train.

A sudden, aggressive wave of dizziness violently swam through Roxy’s vision. The bright, sunlit nursery instantly tilted on its axis, the colors smearing together. And then, a massive, overwhelming surge of pure, unadulterated nausea violently roiled in the very pit of her stomach.

The sweet scent of the baby powder, combined with the lingering, earthy aroma of the roasted boar she had eaten for breakfast, suddenly clashed in her highly sensitive transmigrated nose. It created a sickening, suffocating combination that tasted like copper and acid in the back of her throat.

Roxy’s laughter abruptly choked off into a sharp, wet gasp. All the color violently drained from her face, leaving her completely pale. A cold, clammy sweat instantly broke out across her forehead.

"Roxy?" Kira asked, her warm smile dropping instantly as her seasoned wolf instincts picked up on the drastic biological shift. "Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Roxy couldn’t speak. If she opened her mouth to form a single syllable, she was going to be violently sick all over the plush fur rugs and her children.

She shoved Little Fedor into Kira’s arms with a terrifying, frantic urgency that made the older woman gasp. Roxy scrambled to her feet, entirely bypassing the concerned shouts of Axel and Onyx. She bolted out of the nursery door, her bare feet slapping loudly against the cold stone floorboards of the hallway as she sprinted with absolute, desperate speed toward the nearest bathing chamber.

She slammed the heavy wooden door open, diving toward the massive stone basin just in time.

Roxy violently emptied the contents of her stomach into the basin, her entire body shaking with the sheer, aggressive force of the nausea. She gripped the cold stone edges of the sink, her knuckles turning completely white as her chest heaved with ragged, tearing gasps for air.

What is wrong with me? Roxy thought frantically, her mind spinning wildly as she reached out with a trembling hand to turn the brass tap. Did I eat something bad? Is it magical exhaustion from Syris’s room? Am I coming down with a Beastworld fever?

She splashed freezing water onto her flushed face, shivering as the droplets ran down her neck. She stood up slowly, bracing herself against the mirror. She looked at her reflection. She looked exhausted, pale, and thoroughly wrecked.

But as she took a deep, shuddering breath to calm her racing heart, her transmigrated core violently pulsed.

It wasn’t the steady, familiar hum of her own magic. It wasn’t the lingering, protective resonance of the Alpha Kings’ claiming marks. It was a completely distinct, secondary resonance. It was a tiny, brilliant, and entirely unmistakable spark of life echoing right beneath her own heartbeat.

Roxy slowly, numbly lowered her gaze. She placed her trembling hand flat against her lower abdomen.

Right there, resting just beneath her skin, she could feel the faint, undeniable thrum of a newly formed magical tether.

The signs were absolute. The sudden, violent morning sickness. The magical core resonance. The absolute chaos of her recent, highly active mating cycles with the most powerful Alpha Kings on the continent. Zarek’s desperate rut in the cavern. Torian’s relentless stamina. Kaelen’s punishing precision. Syris’s starving, feral hibernation awakening.

"No," Roxy whispered to the empty bathroom, her brilliant green eyes blowing wide in sheer, unadulterated panic.

She was pregnant. Again.

The sheer, overwhelming magnitude of the timing completely broke her brain. Fedor was barely sitting up. She had just survived the emotional apocalypse of the Trickster’s death. She had just sworn to Kaelen that she wasn’t going to push her physical limits. And the Demon King was currently plotting her demise from the heavens, watching her every move.

The hormones, the fear, the exhaustion, and the absolute, ridiculous chaos of her unscripted life violently overflowed. She couldn’t hold it in.

Roxy let out a loud, highly dramatic scream of pure, unfiltered frustration that echoed sharply off the tiled walls of the bathing chamber.

She didn’t stay in the bathroom. Running purely on adrenaline and the blinding shock of her realization, Roxy pushed off the stone basin. She threw open the bathroom door and rushed back down the short hallway, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

She skidded to a halt directly in the open doorway of the nursery.

The room had gone completely, deathly silent. Axel, Onyx, Iris, and Tanith were all standing up, their eyes wide with concern and fear. Kira was still sitting on the rug, clutching Little Fedor securely against her chest, looking up at the Matriarch with deep apprehension. Tyara and Zale had stopped playing, sensing the sudden, massive spike in emotional distress.

Roxy stood in the doorway, her hair a mess, her face pale, and her hands visibly shaking. She looked at her beautiful, chaotic, incredibly large family. She looked at Kira.

Roxy swallowed hard, her throat painfully tight.

"I am pregnant," she whispered, her voice barely carrying across the quiet room.

For a single, suspended heartbeat, no one moved. The children simply stared at her, completely stunned by the sheer gravity of the confession. Kira’s jaw dropped slightly.

And then, as if completely understanding the catastrophic logistical nightmare of adding yet another Warlord infant to the already overflowing Manor, Little Fedor reacted.

The Kitsune infant’s tiny face scrunched up in profound, absolute misery. His white fox ears flattened entirely against his red curls. He opened his mouth wide and burst out crying.

"Wahhhh!"