The brutal, suffocating grip of the Beastworld winter was finally beginning to yield.

Outside the gates of the Manor, the thick, impenetrable sheets of frost that had encased the Iron-Wood mountains for months were slowly cracking.

The jagged icicles hanging from the sprawling eaves melted into steady, rhythmic drips, and the deep, suffocating snowdrifts receded to reveal patches of dark, vibrant earth. Spring was approaching, bringing with it the intoxicating scent of damp soil, budding pine, and the restless, thrumming energy of the awakening continent.

Inside the Manor, the passage of a couple of months had brought a chaotic, magnificent wave of growth.

Supernatural shifter biology was a terrifying, unpredictable force of nature, completely disregarding the slow, steady timelines of the Beastworld especially when it involved Roxy’s children.

The most startling transformation belonged to the trio of older wolf pups. Iris, Axel, and Onyx had hit a massive, synchronized growth spurt. Practically overnight, the three of them had shot up, shedding their round, pup-like softness to look like lanky, energetic pre-teens.

They were all long limbs, sharp elbows, and possessed a sheer, terrifying abundance of stamina that tested the very structural integrity of the Manor.

The younger children were not far behind. Tyara, the teething tiger cub, had mastered the art of the high-speed combat crawl, turning the grand hall into her personal, high-velocity obstacle course.

Little Zale was now officially walking, though it was a distinctly wobbly, wide-stanced baby waddle that required Caspian to constantly hover a few inches behind him to catch his inevitable tumbles.

And then there was Little Fedor.

The Kitsune heir was a breathtaking beacon of joy in the center of the Vanguard pack. He could sit up entirely on his own now, though he was still a baby, his balance occasionally betraying him into a soft plop backward onto the fur rugs.

He had also begun to attempt a very clumsy, uncoordinated crawl, dragging his plump belly across the floor in pursuit of his siblings. His fiery red hair had grown into thick, unruly curls, and his stunning olive-green eyes completely captivated anyone who looked at him.

Thanks to Kaito’s silver dampener safely secured around his neck, Fedor’s glitching magic was perfectly contained, allowing him to just be a normal, happy infant.

However, the impending spring thaw had brought a severe, highly contagious case of cabin fever to the Manor, especially for the restless wolf twins.

They suddenly wanted to become like Drax, spirited.

With the snow melting just enough to allow access to the lower tribal settlements, Axel and Onyx had taken their pre-teen energy completely off the leash.

The heavy, iron-reinforced doors of the grand hall violently groaned open, letting in a gust of crisp, mud-scented spring wind.

Roxy stood near the roaring hearth, wiping a smudge of baby puree from Fedor’s chin, and looked up.

Marching through the doorway was Kaelen. The usually stoic, immaculately composed King of the North looked deeply exasperated. He was practically dragging Axel and Onyx into the Manor by the thick leather collars of their tunics. Both boys were absolutely covered from head to toe in thick, dark spring mud, looking incredibly guilty but possessing identical, unrepentant smirks.

"I leave them unattended in the Northern settlement for exactly one hour," Kaelen announced, his deep voice vibrating with a mixture of heavy parental fatigue and dry amusement. He released their collars, letting the two muddy pre-teens drop to the stone floor. "And they somehow manage to convince half the tribal pups to unlatch the dire-boar pens for a ’cavalry race’."

Roxy gasped, her hands flying to her hips as she glared at her sons. "Axel! Onyx! You could have been trampled!"

"We had it completely under control, Mum," Axel argued, attempting to look dignified despite a massive clump of mud sliding off his nose. "We were establishing dominance over the herd."

"You were stuck in a mud-wallow while a boar chewed on your boot, Axel," Kaelen corrected smoothly, crossing his massive arms.

Behind Kaelen’s towering legs, two other figures sheepishly shuffled into the grand hall. It was Karhu and Skoll, two of the twins’ closest friends from the wolf tribe. They were equally covered in mud, but they immediately snapped to attention, remembering their manners in the presence of the Matriarch.

Skoll obediently stepped forward, holding a massive, heavy burlap sack that smelled of fresh earth and cured salt. He bowed deeply, his wolf ears completely flat against his messy hair.

"Greetings, Queen Roxy," Skoll said, his voice cracking slightly with pre-teen awkwardness. He hoisted the heavy sack forward. "We are very sorry for the mess. Our mother told us to bring you this as an apology for our part in the cavalry race. She sent some fresh spring potatoes and the finest cured pig meat from the winter stores."

Roxy’s stern, matriarchal glare instantly melted. The deep, unscripted respect and community of the wolf tribe always warmed her heart.

"Thank you, Skoll. And thank you, Karhu," Roxy smiled gently, stepping forward to accept the heavy sack, noting the absolute mortification on the two tribal boys’ faces. "Tell your mother I am incredibly grateful for the gift, and that I will be sending down some honey-bread later this week. Now, get yourselves home and washed before you catch a chill."

The two boys nodded frantically, offering Kaelen a highly respectful salute before bolting back out the heavy doors into the spring afternoon.

Roxy turned her gaze back to her own two muddy miscreants. "Washroom. Both of you. Right now. If I see a single muddy footprint on my carpets, you will be scrubbing the entire Manor floor with a toothbrush."

Axel and Onyx groaned in unison, but they didn’t dare test their mother’s wrath. They immediately scrambled up the grand staircase, leaving Kaelen to let out a long, heavy sigh.

"They are growing entirely too fast, Roxy," Kaelen murmured, stepping forward to wrap his large, cool hands around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"They are terrifying," Roxy agreed, leaning into his solid chest. "But they are alive, Kaelen. They are happy."

That evening, using the fresh potatoes and cured pig meat the boys had brought, Roxy cooked a massive, hearty, incredibly comforting stew. The rich, savory aroma filled the Manor, entirely washing away the lingering smell of wet mud.

After the colossal dinner, the entire Vanguard pack naturally gravitated toward the central parlor. The hearth was roaring, fighting off the lingering chill of the spring evening. What began as a simple gathering quickly, organically devolved into a massive, breathtaking pack cuddle pile on the sprawling, oversized fur rugs.

It was a chaotic masterpiece of domestic intimacy. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Torian, acting as the colossal, living mattress, lay flat on his back in the center of the rugs, his deep, vibrating Tiger purr providing a physical lullaby for the room. Tyara was completely sprawled out across his broad chest, dead to the world. Kaelen sat leaning against Torian’s side, one of his massive arms loosely draped over the sleeping wolf twins, who had completely crashed from their dire-boar adventures. Caspian was curled up near the warmth of the fire, little Zale tucked securely under his chin.

Roxy sat nestled between Torian’s massive shoulder and Zarek’s blistering heat. The Dragon King had his thick arm wrapped securely around her waist, his chin resting heavily on the top of her head. In her lap, Little Fedor was cooing softly, his tiny fingers playing with a loose thread on Roxy’s tunic, entirely content.

Iris lay stretched out on her stomach right beside Roxy, reading a large, leather-bound book about ancient Beastworld flora, her legs swinging idly in the air.

Roxy leaned her head back against Zarek’s collarbone, letting her brilliant green eyes slowly sweep across the room.

The sheer, overwhelming magnitude of the love in this room was staggering. It wasn’t perfect. It was loud, it was messy, and it was fraught with the terrifying, constant threats of a magical world. The aching void left by the Trickster King was still there, a phantom presence that occasionally made her heart stutter, but the space around it had been violently, fiercely filled by the unyielding devotion of her family.

Roxy stared into the roaring flames of the hearth, a sudden, fiercely defiant spark igniting in her transmigrated soul.

Are you watching this, Abaddon? I bet you. Why don’t you show your face.

Every single laugh, every shared meal, every muddy footprint, and every peaceful breath drawn in this cuddle pile was a direct, lethal strike against the Demon King’s narrative. He could not script the way Zarek’s thumb gently stroked her hip, or the way Fedor looked at her with pure awe. She was completely, entirely off-limits to the darkness.

Roxy smiled, closing her eyes and letting the profound peace wash over her, entirely ready to drift to sleep surrounded by her pack.

But peace, in a house full of pre-teens, was a remarkably fragile illusion.

Suddenly, Onyx’s hand shot out from beneath Kaelen’s arm. The supposedly sleeping pre-teen wolf reached directly across the fur rug and violently yanked on one of Iris’s dark braids.

Iris shrieked, instantly dropping her heavy book.

The peaceful, heartwarming silence of the parlor was completely, instantaneously shattered. The cuddling children violently scrambled, limbs flying everywhere as Iris launched herself at her brother in pure retaliation.

"Mum!" Iris yelled at the top of her lungs, completely breaking the cuddle pile. "Onyx is being naughty again!"