For ten agonising, suspended seconds, the five most dangerous predators on the continent simply stared up at the wooden balcony.

Thirty minutes ago, Roxy was clearly very sad. Now, she was glowing with euphoria, holding a tiny, fiery-red fox kit over the railing like a newly crowned prince.

Torian was the first to break the absolute paralysis. The White Tiger Alpha blinked his wide blue eyes, pointing a massive, trembling finger at the squirming ball of red fluff.

"Is that... is that the boy?" Torian stammered, his booming voice cracking entirely. "He is barely two months old! Wolf pups don’t shift until their first winter! That’s biologically impossible!"

"He is a transmigrated Kitsune anomaly," Syris corrected smoothly, though the Snake King’s elegant hands were gripping the edges of his dark green robes tight enough to turn his knuckles white. "Nothing about that child is Normal."

Zarek let out a heavy, shuddering exhale, the tension bleeding out of his massive shoulders. "He shifted. That’s all that matters."

But the absolute second the relief washed over them, the stark, undeniable reality of Roxy’s other announcement violently reasserted itself. The shock of the fox kit’s transformation faded, instantly overwritten by a suffocating, deeply primal wave of territorial Vanguard protectiveness.

Their Matriarch was pregnant. Again.

Roxy didn’t wait on the balcony. Laughing breathlessly, she turned and hurried down the grand staircase, her bare feet padding softly against the woven runners. She cradled the tiny red kit to her chest, entirely expecting her husbands to be just as ecstatic as she was.

She didn’t even make it to the bottom step.

The absolute second her foot touched the stone floor of the grand hall, she was violently swarmed.

"Do not walk on the bare stone, Roxy, your temperature will plummet!" Torian roared, lunging forward with his massive arms extended, entirely intent on scooping her up and carrying her like a fragile glass doll.

"Back off, Torian, you’ll crush her," Zarek growled, violently shoving his massive shoulder into the Tiger’s chest to intercept him. The Dragon King turned his burning golden eyes onto Roxy, his hands hovering frantically around her waist without actually touching her, as if he were terrified she might shatter. "You shouldn’t have run down the stairs. I will carry you back up. You need to be in bed."

"Nobody is carrying her anywhere until she is properly hydrated and seated," Caspian interrupted, stepping smoothly between the two towering Alphas. The aquatic Warlord flicked his wrist, immediately using his magic to slide a heavily cushioned velvet armchair directly behind Roxy’s knees. "Sit, my Queen. Please."

Roxy blinked, completely overwhelmed by the sudden, suffocating wall of muscle and panic surrounding her. She sat down heavily in the cushioned chair, the tiny fox kit in her lap letting out a sharp, confused yip! at the sudden commotion.

"I am fine!" Roxy protested, her hands hovering protectively over Fedor. "I was just nauseous! Look at him, guys, look at his little paws—!"

"We will marvel at the fox’s impossible biology later," Kaelen commanded, his icy blue eyes sweeping over her flushed face with the intensity of a battlefield medic. The King of the North knelt directly in front of her chair, his cool, elegant hands gently gripping her knees. "We need to secure the perimeter. We need to double the caloric intake of the kitchens. And we need to establish exactly who is responsible for this."

The grand hall instantly descended into absolute, deafening chaos.

The Warlords, fueled by pure, unadulterated Alpha adrenaline and intense territorial pride, immediately turned on each other.

"It was the cavern," Zarek rumbled, his chest puffing out as a dark, arrogant smirk crossed his scarred face. He crossed his massive arms. "I took her through a full draconic rut. The sheer magical density of a Dragon Alpha’s seed—"

"Oh, please, you overgrown lizard," Torian scoffed loudly, stepping right into Zarek’s personal space. "I had her for three straight days after that! My stamina is legendary. The Tiger lineage is undeniably dominant. It’s absolutely mine."

"Need I remind you both of the absolute precision and depth I achieved just last night?" Kaelen stated coolly, not looking away from Roxy but entirely participating in the biological measuring contest. "The Northern wolves are incredibly fertile."

Syris let out a rich, mocking laugh, leaning elegantly against the feasting table. "You terrestrial beasts are adorable. She spent the last three days locked in a warded chamber with me, stabilizing a feral, metamorphic hibernation cycle. The swamp magic is incredibly potent. The child is undoubtedly a serpent."

Roxy sat in the cushioned chair, staring at the five most terrifying men in the Beastworld as they actively bickered over her reproductive timeline like territorial pups arguing over a bone.

Normally, she would have found the possessive banter endearing, perhaps even a little thrilling. But the adrenaline of Fedor’s shift was rapidly beginning to fade, leaving behind the heavy, sluggish exhaustion of her first trimester. Her head throbbed, her stomach churned at the loud volume, and the stifling, protective energy radiating from them was making it hard to breathe.

Fedor, completely unbothered by the screaming Alphas, wiggled out of Roxy’s loose grip. The tiny red kit hopped down onto the stone floor, trotted directly over to Zarek, and began playfully, aggressively chewing on the thick leather laces of the Dragon King’s heavy combat boot.

"Enough."

Roxy’s voice wasn’t loud. She didn’t scream, and she didn’t project her magic. But the sheer, unyielding, exhausted authority in her tone sliced through the Warlords’ argument like a perfectly sharpened broadsword.

The Alphas instantly snapped their jaws shut. Torian took a step back, Zarek extinguished the faint wisps of smoke curling from his lips, and Kaelen immediately straightened his posture. They all looked down at their Matriarch.

"Sit down," Roxy commanded, pointing a trembling finger toward the massive mahogany feasting table. "All of you. Right now."

The five Kings didn’t hesitate. They moved with synchronized, terrifying military obedience, instantly taking their respective seats around the heavy table. They watched her with wide, highly attentive eyes, completely subjugated by the fierce glow in her brilliant green irises.

Roxy took a slow, deep breath. She rested her hands gently over her lower abdomen, feeling the faint, steady pulse of the new magical tether anchoring her to reality.

"We are not doing this," Roxy began, her voice steady and absolute. She looked at each of them in turn. "We are not going to spend the next eight months locking me in a warded bedroom, fighting over who gets to carry me down the hallway, or bickering over whose magical lineage is the strongest. We don’t have the luxury of time for this level of coddling."

"Roxy, you are carrying a heir," Torian protested softly, his blue eyes filled with genuine, agonizing worry. "You are vulnerable."

"I am carrying our child," Roxy corrected firmly. "But I am also the Matriarch. And right now, the Architect of this universe is sitting there, watching our every single move."

The mention of the Demon King instantly shifted the atmosphere in the room. The petty, territorial bickering evaporated entirely, replaced by the heavy, suffocating gravity of their cosmic war.

"Abaddon thrives on stagnation," Roxy continued, her gaze hardening. "He wants us terrified. He wants us paralyzed by our own protective instincts. If we go into lockdown and hide inside the walls of the Iron-Wood Manor, we are just waiting for him to drop the sky on our heads."

She stood up from the velvet chair. Her legs felt slightly weak, but her transmigrated soul burned with a fierce, unyielding determination. She walked over to the table, her bare feet silent on the floorboards, and stopped directly across from the King of the North.

Kaelen looked up at her. His icy blue eyes were tight with the remnants of the agonizing fear he had confessed to her just a day prior. He knew exactly what she was about to say.

Roxy rested her hands flat on the polished mahogany, leaning forward slightly. She looked directly into Kaelen’s eyes, softening her tone but completely refusing to yield her ground.

"I promised you yesterday that I understood your boundaries, Kaelen," Roxy said softly, the intimate, desperate promises of their reconciliation echoing between them. "I promised I wouldn’t be reckless, and I am not going to break that vow. I am not sneaking out this time."

Kaelen’s jaw clenched, his broad chest rising and falling heavily.

"But we are still going to the Fox Kingdom," Roxy declared, her voice ringing with absolute, undeniable finality. She moved one hand to rest protectively over her stomach. "Before this morning, the diary was a tactical advantage. Now? The baby makes finding that diary a necessity, not an option. I will not bring another child into this world completely blind to the code of the god who wants to destroy them."

She looked around the table, her brilliant green eyes sweeping over the Alpha Kings.

"Please...."