She stroked the fiery-red fur of the Kitsune infant, her brilliant green eyes entirely stripped of the terrifying, divine emptiness. She was completely, entirely Roxann again.

She looked up from the little fox in her lap, her heart soaring with an overwhelming tide of absolute gratitude, entirely intending to pull her brave, fiercely loyal daughter into a desperate hug.

"Tanith, I—"

But the words died instantly in her throat.

The glowing, ancient Warlord aura that had radiated so powerfully from the ten-year-old snake-shifter suddenly and violently blinked out. Bridging a dimensional void and channeling the raw, chaotic magic of the Trickster King was a feat that would have completely exhausted an adult Warlord; for a child, the physical toll was catastrophic.

Tanith’s golden-green eyes rolled back into her head. The color entirely drained from her youthful cheeks, leaving her as pale as ash. Without a single sound, the young girl collapsed, her small body hitting the wooden floorboards like a discarded ragdoll.

"Tanith!" Roxy screamed, pure, visceral panic detonating in her chest.

She violently threw the dire-wolf pelts aside, intending to lunge off the bed and catch her daughter. But the absolute second Roxy tried to move her legs, the crushing, agonizing physical reality of her transmigrated body caught up with her. She had been subjected to divine formatting, her soul violently ripped out and shoved back in, all while carrying a Warlord pregnancy.

Her muscles completely failed her. Roxy collapsed against the edge of the mattress, her vision instantly swimming with dark, terrifying spots.

"Zarek!" Roxy shrieked, her voice tearing raw and desperate through the quiet Manor. "Kaelen! Syris! Help me!"

The heavy mahogany doors didn’t just open; they were violently blown off their iron hinges.

The five Vanguard Alpha Kings, followed closely by Drax and the younger children, surged into the master suite like a tidal wave of apocalyptic panic. They had heard the devastating, panicked pitch of her true voice—a sound they thought the Heavens had permanently erased.

But Roxy couldn’t even keep her eyes open to see them cross the threshold. The sheer, overwhelming exhaustion completely overtook her transmigrated core. As the massive, towering silhouettes of her husbands flooded the room, Roxy’s brilliant green eyes fluttered shut, and she plummeted into the heavy, suffocating dark of unconsciousness.

When the world faded out, the bedroom descended into a frantic, hyper-focused frenzy.

Little Fedor scrambled up Roxy’s chest. The Kitsune infant let out a pathetic, high-pitched whine of pure grievance, his small, wet tongue frantically licking Roxy’s pale, sweat-dampened cheek, desperately trying to wake the mother he had just gotten back.

Syris did not hesitate for a fraction of a millisecond. The Snake King glided across the room, completely ignoring the bed to drop to his knees beside his fallen daughter. He scooped Tanith’s limp, fragile body into his elegant arms, his golden-green eyes wide with terror as he assessed her dangerously shallow breathing.

"Her magical core is entirely depleted," Syris gritted out, his voice sharp with dread. Because his native swamp magic was rooted in toxic illusions and venom, he possessed no innate healing spells. "I need to get her to the apothecary."

"I am right behind you," Caspian declared, stepping to Syris’s side. The aquatic King’s hands were already glowing with a deep, soothing blue light. "My water magic will stabilize her internal temperature until the tonics take effect. Move!"

Without another word, Syris and Caspian tore out of the master suite, rushing the unconscious snake-shifter down the stone corridors toward the Manor’s medical wing.

Back in the bedroom, Drax quickly ushered the crying younger pups out into the hall to give the remaining Kings space, closing the broken doors as best he could.

Zarek reached the bed first.

The colossal Dragon King dropped heavily to his knees beside the mattress. He completely ignored the remnants of the celestial ozone in the air, reaching out with massive, trembling hands to gather Roxy’s fragile, pale form entirely into his arms. He pulled her flush against his chest, burying his scarred face into her dark curls.

He could hear her heartbeat. It was faint, and erratic, but it was fiercely, undeniably human. The divine machine was gone.

"She is still pregnant," Zarek whispered, his deep, gravelly voice breaking into a jagged, agonizing rasp. "How could she go through so much...?"

The terrifying, invincible Dragon King buried his face in the crook of her neck and let out a soft, devastatingly vulnerable whine. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated Warlord heartbreak—the agonizing realization of exactly how much pain their Matriarch had silently endured just to keep them safe.

Kaelen stepped up behind the kneeling Dragon. The King of the North’s stoic face was pale, his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle feathered in his cheek. He reached out, pressing a heavy, comforting hand firmly onto Zarek’s shaking shoulder, anchoring his brother-in-arms.

Torian stood at the foot of the bed, his bright blue eyes locked onto Roxy’s sleeping face. The White Tiger Alpha’s massive chest heaved with a profound, unyielding resolve.

"Even if she runs a thousand times," Torian murmured, his voice a low, absolute vow that vibrated in the quiet room, "we will always find her."

Hours bled into the afternoon.

The pale winter sunlight shifted across the wooden floorboards. The heavy, magical exhaustion slowly burned out of Roxy’s system, replaced by a deep, aching soreness in her bones.

Roxy drew in a long, shuddering breath, her dark eyelashes fluttering. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

She opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was the broad, heavily muscled chest of the Dragon King. She shifted her gaze, her brilliant green eyes immediately finding Zarek, Kaelen, and Torian gathered tightly around her side of the bed.

The sheer, overwhelming relief that crashed over Roxy’s soul was blinding. She wasn’t on Earth. She wasn’t paralyzed in a sterile hospital room, trapped at the mercy of a terrestrial ghost. She was home. She was in the Beastworld, surrounded by the towering, fiercely protective apex predators who had laid the universe at her feet.

"Zarek!" Roxy gasped, a sob of pure, unadulterated joy tearing from her throat.

She didn’t care about the soreness in her muscles. Roxy threw her arms entirely around the Dragon King’s thick neck, pulling herself up to bury her face against his jaw. She showered his scarred cheeks, his nose, and his jawline with desperate, frantic kisses, her tears soaking into his tunic.

"I’m back," Roxy wept, pulling back just enough to look at him, before immediately reaching out. "Kaelen!"

She grabbed the collar of the Wolf King’s tunic, pulling him down to press a fierce, passionate kiss to his lips, her hands tangling in his silver hair. She immediately turned to the White Tiger, throwing her arms out. Torian stepped forward, and she kissed his cheek, her heart hammering a frantic, euphoric rhythm against her ribs.

"I missed you," Roxy cried, a massive, brilliant smile breaking across her tear-streaked face. "I missed you all so incredibly much! I was so scared, but I heard you! I heard the howl!"

She waited for the bone-crushing hugs. She waited for Zarek’s roaring, possessive hellfire, for Kaelen’s deep, rumbling purr, and for Torian’s desperate, tight embrace. She expected them to hold her so tightly she wouldn’t be able to breathe.

But the embraces never came.

Zarek allowed her to kiss him, but his massive arms remained stiffly at his sides. He didn’t wrap her up in his draconic heat. Kaelen accepted the kiss, but his icy blue eyes immediately averted, dropping to stare at the dire-wolf pelts. Torian stood rigidly, his posture completely closed off, his combat aura entirely suppressed.

The towering, terrifying Vanguard Warlords—men who had just ripped the Heavens apart to save her—looked at her with expressions of cold, agonizing distance.

"You are awake," Kaelen said quietly, his voice entirely devoid of its usual majestic warmth. It was flat. Guarded.

"Rest, Matriarch," Torian added, taking a deliberate half-step backward, putting physical space between them.

"We are glad your soul is intact," Zarek muttered, his golden eyes completely shadowed, refusing to meet her joyful gaze.

Roxy’s massive, brilliant smile slowly, agonizingly faltered. The euphoric high of her return crashed into a wall of solid ice.

She looked at their faces, the cold, stiff posture of their bodies. The crushing realization hit her like a physical blow. They were traumatized. They were furious. She had lied to them for a week, faked her smiles, and deliberately planned her own suicide behind their backs. She had completely shattered their trust, and saving her soul had not miraculously erased the devastating emotional wounds she had inflicted upon her husbands.

They loved her enough to bring her back, but they were currently too hurt to hold her.

Roxy swallowed the painful, jagged lump in her throat. She slowly lowered her arms, her hands resting nervously in her lap. She hastily wiped the tears of joy from her cheeks, trying to push past the sudden, freezing chill in the room.

She looked around the master bedroom, suddenly realizing the space was entirely too empty.

"Where are Syris and Caspian?" Roxy asked, her voice trembling slightly as she looked up at the three distant Kings. "Are they mad at me too? Did they not want to stay?"

Torian shifted his weight, his bright blue eyes entirely solemn as he looked down at her.

"They are not here because of anger, Roxy," Torian replied, his tone heavy and flat. "They have gone to the medical wing. To heal little Tan Tan."

Roxy’s heart violently skipped a beat. The lingering joy completely evaporated, replaced by an instantaneous, suffocating spike of maternal terror.

She remembered the visual of Tanith in the hospital room—the way the young girl had pushed her to fight, the blinding magical projection that had bridged the dimensions.

"What?" Roxy gasped, her hands gripping the dire-wolf pelts so tightly her knuckles turned white. She looked frantically between Zarek and Kaelen. "What happened to Tan Tan!"