The walk back from the thermal pond was the longest, coldest journey Roxy had ever taken within the walls of the Iron-Wood Manor.

She clutched the heavy woollen shawl tightly around her trembling shoulders, her bare feet numb against the freezing stone corridors. The echo of Caspian’s retreating footsteps played on a cruel, agonising loop in her mind.

The King of the Southern Seas had looked at her with eyes made of impenetrable ice. He had turned his back on her.

When Roxy finally reached the master suite, she crawled back into the massive bed of dire-wolf pelts. She curled into a tight ball, completely shivering despite the roaring hearth fire, and cried until her exhausted body finally dragged her into a restless, dreamless sleep.

When Day 2 dawned, the pale winter sunlight filtered through the frosted glass windows, but it brought no warmth.

The silence in the Manor was absolute and entirely suffocating.

The Warlords were strictly adhering to their "give her space" pact. To the outside world, it looked like a calculated, respectful Vanguard strategy to allow their pregnant Matriarch to heal from her divine trauma. But Roxy knew the truth. It was a shield. The towering, terrifying Alpha Kings were using distance as a defense mechanism to hide how deeply, profoundly wounded they were. They were terrified of their own volatile grief, terrified that their barely contained anger would hurt her, and entirely paralyzed by the Warlord shame of feeling they had failed to protect her.

So, they stayed away. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

In the late morning, a heavy, familiar set of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Roxy’s breath hitched. She sat up, her heart hammering a desperate rhythm against her ribs.

Knock. Knock.

"Kaelen?" Roxy croaked, hastily throwing the furs aside.

She scrambled across the wooden floorboards, her hands shaking as she grabbed the heavy brass handle and threw the door open.

But the hallway was empty.

Sitting perfectly centered on the floor outside her door was a large silver tray. On it was a steaming bowl of nutrient-dense bone broth, freshly baked bread, and a small, delicate crystal vase holding a single, pale blue winter-bloom. The sharp, breathtaking scent of crushed pine and ozone lingered heavily in the air.

Roxy looked down the corridor just in time to see the edge of a dark, fur-lined cloak disappear around the far corner. Kaelen had vanished before she could even look him in the eye.

She picked up the heavy tray, a fresh wave of tears blurring her vision. He was feeding her. He was meticulously ensuring she and the unborn pup had exactly what they needed to survive. He was performing his Warlord duties flawlessly, but he was entirely withholding his heart.

An hour later, Roxy stood by the frost-rimmed window of the bedroom, staring down into the Manor’s expansive gardens.

Torian was there. The colossal White Tiger Alpha was standing knee-deep in the fresh snow, his massive arms crossed over his broad chest. He was acting as a personal, immovable sentinel guarding her perimeter. The biting winter wind whipped his dark hair around his face, but he stood as rigid as a mountain.

Roxy pressed her hand flat against the cold glass. "Look up," she whispered desperately to the empty room. "Please, Torian. Just look up at me."

Torian’s feline ears twitched. He possessed hyper-sensitive hearing; he knew exactly where she was standing. He could undoubtedly hear the rapid, anxious beating of her heart. But the Tiger Alpha kept his bright blue eyes locked fiercely on the distant treeline, rigidly refusing to tilt his head upward. The agonizing rejection of his posture made Roxy’s chest ache so badly she had to turn away from the window.

By midday, the emotional isolation was driving her completely mad. She couldn’t sit in the empty bedroom any longer.

She gathered her shawl and made the slow, careful trek toward the medical wing to check on Tanith.

The air in the infirmary was thick with the scent of crushed medicinal herbs and sharp tonics. Syris was sitting on a low wooden stool beside the cot where Tanith lay sleeping, her skin still pale from her magical depletion. The elegant Snake King was gently dabbing a cool, damp cloth against his daughter’s forehead, his aristocratic features etched with a profound, ancient worry.

Roxy stepped softly into the room. "Syris?"

The Snake King’s spine snapped completely straight. His long, elegant fingers froze mid-motion. He did not turn around.

"The restorative tonics are working," Syris stated, his voice completely stripped of its usual mocking, velvet cadence. It was clipped, precise, and terribly cold. "Her core temperature is stabilizing. She requires uninterrupted rest."

"I just wanted to sit with her," Roxy said softly, taking a tentative step closer. "And maybe... sit with you?"

Syris immediately stood up. He carefully placed the damp cloth onto the rim of a wooden basin. "I must go check the apothecary inventory. Excuse me, Matriarch."

He didn’t look at her. He didn’t offer a mocking smirk or a lingering touch. The King of the Swamps glided past her with blinding speed, his emerald robes brushing against her legs as he slipped out the door, abandoning the room rather than sharing the air with her.

Roxy stood beside Tanith’s cot, burying her face in her hands. The punishment was absolute.

But if the Alphas were determined to freeze her out, the Vanguard pups were equally determined to act as her blazing, unyielding sun.

When Roxy returned to the master bedroom later that afternoon, she was immediately ambushed.

The heavy doors flew open, and Axel and Onyx bounded into the room, their cheeks flushed bright red from the winter wind. Axel was proudly holding the back legs of a massive, snow-white hare, dragging the prize across the floorboards.

"We got it, Mother!" Axel barked, puffing his small chest out with absolute Northern pride.

"It’s the biggest one in the whole forest!" Onyx echoed, his blue eyes practically shining with excitement. "The cooks are making it into a special stew just for you! It’s going to make you super strong!"

Roxy couldn’t help the genuine, watery laugh that escaped her lips. She knelt down, ignoring the soreness in her abdomen, and pulled both twin wolves into a massive, fierce hug. "Thank you, my brave hunters. It is absolutely perfect."

The arrival of the twins completely broke the heavy silence of the room. Within minutes, the space was entirely overrun.

Iris danced into the room, leading the toddlers. Zale immediately waddled over, his webbed hands grabbing Roxy’s knees until she lifted the merman-shifter onto the mattress. Tyara shifted into her white tiger cub form and practically tackled Roxy, sprawling her heavy, warm body across Roxy’s lap with a loud, demanding purr. Little Fedor hopped up onto the pillows, his fiery-red Kitsune tail swishing happily as he curled right against Roxy’s neck.

They piled onto the bed, a chaotic, loud, and incredibly warm mountain of fur, scales, and transmigrated magic. They babbled about the guards, they demanded stories, and they completely anchored Roxy to the physical world. For hours, they acted as a living, breathing emotional life raft, refusing to let their Matriarch drown in her own guilt.

As the sun began to set on the second day, casting long, bruising purple shadows across the master bedroom, the pups finally tired themselves out. The twins were asleep on the rug, and the toddlers were a tangled, snoring pile on the furs.

Roxy sat perfectly still amidst the sleeping children, watching the dying embers of the hearth fire.

The warmth of the pups was a profound blessing, but as the night crept in, the massive bed felt impossibly, terrifyingly cold without the blistering heat of her Warlords.

Roxy’s tears finally stopped falling. A new, fierce clarity began to sharpen in her brilliant green eyes.

Weeping in the dark wasn’t going to fix this. Apologizing to closed doors wasn’t going to bridge the massive, agonizing chasm she had created. The Alpha Kings were drowning in their Warlord pride and their terror of losing her. If she waited for them to process their feelings rationally, she would be waiting until the mountains crumbled.

She broke the bridge. She was going to have to be the one to forcefully, aggressively rebuild it.

Roxy carefully untangled herself from the sleeping pups, wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. She slipped out of the room, her bare feet carrying her with a new, determined purpose down the darkened corridors back toward the medical wing.

She walked into the infirmary just as the last rays of sunlight faded from the frosted windows.

The room was quiet. But as Roxy approached the cot, she saw the thick woolen blankets shift.

Tanith’s dark eyelashes fluttered. The young snake-shifter let out a soft, dry groan, turning her head on the pillow. Her golden-green eyes slowly, heavily opened, blinking against the dim light of the lanterns.

"Mama...?" Tanith rasped, her voice incredibly weak, but entirely coherent.

Roxy’s heart soared. She rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside the low cot. She reached out, her hands gently but firmly cupping her daughter’s pale cheeks. The absolute, unyielding terror of losing the child who had bridged the dimensions completely washed away.

Roxy leaned down, pressing a fierce, lingering kiss directly onto Tanith’s forehead. Her brilliant green eyes shone with profound, unstoppable maternal pride.

"My Little Tan Tan," Roxy whispered, she placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "You have done well..."