Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband-Chapter 116: The Last Dance

The ballroom was a sea of jewels, velvet, and whispered judgment.

Hundreds of nobles filled the gilded hall, holding crystal flutes and eyeing the massive golden doors. The rumors had been flying all day. The King had returned. The Warlords were united. And the Nanny was at the center of it all.

"I hear she bewitched them," a Duchess whispered behind her fan.

"I heard she is a foreign spy," a Count muttered.

"I heard she doesn’t even have a tail," a Lady scoffed.

Then, the heavy golden doors groaned. The Royal Herald stepped forward, slamming his staff onto the marble.

"Presenting!" the Herald bellowed. "His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Leonis! And His Majesty, King Caspian de Maris!"

The doors swung wide.

Emperor Leonis stood at the top of the stairs, looking down with a warm, regal smile. Beside him stood Princess Leonora and Grand Duke Bastion. Beside Bastion’s leg was Lady Ellia.

The Little Whiskers crew entered.

They didn’t walk in; they conquered the room. Luna and Jax were having fun by themselves as well.

General Rajah carried Arjun on his shoulder. Lord Rurik walked with Vali. Archduke Cassian held Jasper’s hand. Duke Lucien shielded Silas.

And Caspian walked in with Primrose.

The crowd gasped. The Moon-Weave dress rippled around Primrose like liquid silver. She held her head high, radiating an aura of ancient, serene power that silenced every critic in the room.

They approached the throne.

"Welcome," Emperor Leonis boomed, his voice like thunder wrapped in velvet. "I am glad to see the Little Whiskers family accepted our invitation. The Capital has been... quieter without you."

"We live to serve, Your Majesty," Caspian bowed, his hand firm on Primrose’s waist.

Grand Duke Bastion stepped forward. He looked at Primrose and bowed deeply—a shock to the court.

"Lady Primrose," Bastion said earnestly. "I have not forgotten what you did for my daughter, Ellia. You saved her debut. You saved her confidence. The House of Bastion is in your debt."

"It was my pleasure, Grand Duke," Primrose curtsied perfectly. "You don’t have to thank me for the hundredth time."

Suddenly, Arjun hopped down from Rajah’s shoulder. He adjusted his tiny white tuxedo and walked up to Ellia.

"Hi Ellia," Arjun grinned, his tiger tail wagging. "You look... shiny."

Ellia blushed, hiding her face behind her fan, but her tail twitched happily. "You look... dashing, Arjun."

The Emperor laughed. "Well, it seems the next generation is getting along. Let the music play!"

The conductor tapped his baton. The orchestra began a slow, sweeping waltz.

Caspian turned to Primrose. "May I?"

She took his hand.

He pulled her onto the floor. It wasn’t like the clumsy dance in the snow. This was effortless. They glided across the marble, perfectly in sync.

"You know," Caspian whispered, leaning close so only she could hear. "This reminds me of those stuffy charity galas my Architectural Firm used to host in Seoul."

Primrose smiled, looking up at him. "The ones you probably hated?"

"The ones I escaped early," Caspian corrected, his eyes warm with the memory. "I would sneak out the back, loosen my tie, and drive straight to a certain bistro in Gangnam. Table 4. You were quite bold and fierce back then."

"I remember," Primrose whispered. "You always looked so tired. You’d order the Braised Short Ribs and sit there sketching buildings on napkins."

"I wasn’t just sketching," Caspian murmured, spinning her around. "I was falling in love. I fell in love with the Chef even before I ever saw her face. Your food... it was the only thing in that cold city that felt like home."

"And I used to watch you from the kitchen," Primrose admitted, her cheeks flushing. "I made sure your portions were extra large. I thought, That handsome Architect needs to eat more."

Caspian laughed softly. "So you were fattening me up?"

"I was nurturing you," she teased. "And look at you now. King of the Seas. Father of the Year."

"And look at you," Caspian said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Goddess of the Dawn. My Nanny. My Chef."

He pulled her closer, ignoring the scandalized whispers of the nobles.

"I am glad we came back here," he said. "Seoul was lonely. Here... I have you."

The ball was a triumph. The nobles were dazzled, the cubs ate half the buffet, and Vali successfully wrestled a lobster (and won).

By 1:00 AM, they were back at the Daycare.

The cubs were passed out in the nursery, a pile of tangled limbs and sleepy snores. The Warlords had retreated to their own estates. Jax and Luna went home to their various houses with Clover and Finn

Primrose walked up the stairs to her private apartment. She was exhausted, her feet aching, but her heart was full.

She opened the door—and found Caspian waiting inside.

He had loosened his tie and taken off his jacket. He was leaning against her small kitchen counter, looking dangerously handsome in the dim light.

"You’re still here?" Primrose whispered, closing the door and locking it.

"I can’t leave," Caspian said softly. "Not yet."

He walked over to her. The tension that had been building all night—all year—suddenly snapped.

"The dress," Caspian murmured, his hands settling on her waist. "It is beautiful. But I have been wanting to take it off you since we walked into the ballroom."

Primrose’s breath hitched. "Caspian..."

He didn’t let her finish. He kissed her.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was hungry, possessive, and searing with heat. He lifted her up, setting her on the edge of her vanity table, stepping between her legs.

Primrose wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. The Moon-Weave silk rustled as his hands explored the curve of her back.

"Are we..." Primrose gasped between kisses. "Are we doing this?"

"I am done waiting," Caspian growled against her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "I almost lost you to the Void. I almost lost myself. I am not wasting another second."

He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. His teal eyes were dark with desire.

"I love you, Primrose. In Seoul. In the Empire. In every world."

"I love you too," she whispered.

He kissed her again, deeper this time, and Primrose pulled him closer, the snow falling silently outside the window, sealing the promise between them.

His fingers fumbled with the delicate, invisible clasps of the Moon-Weave dress, his patience fraying with every second.

"Renard," Caspian muttered against her collarbone, his voice rough, "made this dress far too complicated."

Primrose laughed breathlessly, tilting her head back to give him better access to her throat. "It’s ancient craftsmanship. It wasn’t designed to be taken off in a hurry."

"Then ancient craftsmanship is about to be ruined," Caspian growled.

With a sudden, fluid movement—that aquatic grace that reminded her he was a predator of the deep—he spun her around. His hands found the hidden latch at the nape of her neck. A soft click echoed in the silent room.

The tension in the fabric released. The shimmering silver silk slid off her shoulders, pooling around her hips like a waterfall frozen in time.

The cool air of the apartment hit her skin, but it was instantly replaced by the searing heat of his palms. He ran his hands down her bare arms, his touch worshipful, tracing the skin as if checking she was real.

"You are here," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. "You are really here. With me... in my arms."

"I’m not going anywhere," Primrose whispered, turning in his arms to face him.

She reached for his shirt, her fingers working the buttons with trembling urgency. She pushed the fabric aside, revealing his chest.

She paused.

Her hand hovered over his heart. The skin there was new, pale and unblemished, but she knew what lay beneath. The memory of the black veins, the Star-Iron, the hole the Void had tried to eat through him.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips directly over his heart.

Caspian shuddered, a sharp intake of breath hissing through his teeth.

"Primrose..."

"It’s beating," she murmured against his skin, listening to the strong, steady rhythm. "It’s strong."

"It’s yours," he answered.

He swept her up into his arms, carrying her away from the vanity and toward the small bed in the corner of the room. He laid her down on the quilt, his body following hers, pressing her into the mattress.

The moonlight from the window washed over them, turning the scene into a painting of shadows and silver.

Caspian braced himself above her, his hair falling forward to curtain them off from the rest of the world. He looked down at her with an intensity that made her toes curl. It wasn’t just desire; it was a desperate, starving need to merge his soul with hers.

"In Seoul," he whispered, his thumb brushing her lower lip, "I dreamed of this. Of finding the woman who made the world feel warm. I didn’t know she was a Fox. I didn’t know she was a Nanny. I just knew she was... home."

"And I dreamed of someone who would eat my cooking and ask for seconds," Primrose smiled, tears pricking her eyes. She reached up, pulling him down. "Shut up and kiss me, Caspian."

He obeyed.

He kissed her with a slow, rolling rhythm that mimicked the ocean tides. His hands roamed over her, learning every curve, every scar, every inch of the woman who had dived into hell to pull him out.

Primrose arched into him, the friction of his skin against hers sending sparks of electricity through her nerves. It was overwhelming. It was the crash of the waves meeting the shore.

There was no magic here. No spells, no Void, no political schemes. Just a man and a woman, stripped of their titles, finding solace in the friction of their bodies.

The night deepened. The snow outside grew heavier, blanketing the capital in silence. But inside the small apartment above the daycare, the fire burned bright, consuming the last shadows of the King’s nightmares.

The sun filtered through the curtains, weak and winter-pale.

Primrose woke up slowly. She felt warm. Heavy. Safe.

She blinked open her eyes.

Caspian was asleep next to her. One of his arms was thrown over his eyes, the other was draped possessively over her waist, pinning her to the bed.

She took a moment to just look at him.

Asleep, the King was gone... He looked handsome. His lashes were long and dark against his cheek. His mouth was slightly open. The tension that permanently furrowed his brow was smoothed out.

He looked peaceful.

Primrose smiled, carefully trying to shimmy out from under his arm.

"Mmm," Caspian grumbled, his arm tightening like a steel band. He didn’t open his eyes. "No."

"I have to get up," Primrose whispered, poking his side. "I have a daycare to run. And cubs to feed."

"Let them starve," Caspian mumbled into the pillow. "Or let Rurik feed them. He is a Wolf. He can hunt."

"If Rurik feeds them, they will be eating raw steak for breakfast," Primrose pointed out.

Caspian opened one eye. It was bright teal and filled with lazy amusement.

"Steak builds character."

He shifted, pulling her back down until her head rested on his chest. He buried his face in her silver hair, inhaling deeply.

"Five more minutes," he negotiated. "The King commands it."

"This is an abuse of power," Primrose laughed, but she didn’t fight him. She snuggled closer, listening to his heartbeat.

For a moment, everything was perfect.

Downstairs, she could hear the faint sounds of chaos starting. The thud of small feet running. The sound of Vali howling for breakfast. The sound of Orion analyzing the nutritional content of cereal.

"They’re awake," Primrose sighed.

"They are loud," Caspian agreed, staring at the ceiling. "But... Let’s just rest for a few more minutes."

"Sure." Primrose chuckled as she hugged him.

The peaceful interlude was over. The warmth of the bed was left behind.

Downstairs, the Pack was waiting. And beyond the walls of the daycare, the Frozen North was calling.