Baby System: I'm the Beast World's Only Hope!-Chapter 108: Episode : Giving The Females Work.

She forgot that this was still mating season.

The males were still sexually active. They were just doing a very good job of controlling their sexual urges.

The days leading up to the "Grand Gala", as Torian insisted on calling it, were filled with activity, screaming toddlers, and nights that left Roxy breathless and aching in the best possible way.

Since the decision to host the party, the competitive streak in her mates had escalated from mildly annoying to insatiable.

She could blame it on the mating season.

Or on her for opening her legs for them.

Kaelen had taken her one afternoon while the triplets napped, claiming he needed to mark her. The result was a fresh, wolf tattoo on the junction of her neck and shoulder, his own mating mark that screamed Mine to anyone who looked at her.

Zarek, refusing to be outdone by a "wet dog," had whisked her away to the hot springs the next night. His claim was different. The moment he bit her, his mating mark, a dragon with its wings spread, bloomed right over her womb.

Combined with Syris’s emerald serpent tattoo on her back, Roxy was starting to look like a living canvas of apex predator ownership.

Like a bad girl who had tattoos all over her body.

Only Torian held back.

The Tiger King was intimate with her, yes. He touched her constantly, slept with her, and kissed her with a hunger that made her knees weak. But he hadn’t marked her.

He claimed he was a gentleman who wanted to win her heart completely before he stained her skin, but Roxy suspected he was just waiting for the perfect, most dramatic moment to make his move.

Because Torian was no gentleman.

Currently, however, Roxy was trying to ignore the throbbing of her new marks as she sat in the communal circle of the Wolf Village.

She was surrounded by about twenty females, a mix of pregnant mothers, elders, and young unmated she-wolves. The air was filled with the scent of herbal tea and excitement.

"You are glowing, Luna," Sera said with a sigh.

Sera was a young wolf, heavily pregnant with her first litter, her belly round and tight against her tunic. She looked at Roxy with pure envy.

"Truly," Sera continued, leaning in. "Your skin... it is like moonlight. Smooth. Radiant. Even your hair looks thicker. What herbs are you taking? Is it the potatoes?"

Roxy paused, her teacup halfway to her mouth. She touched her cheek self-consciously. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s just the fresh air? Or the lack of sleep?"

[You have ingested/absorbed approximately 400% of the recommended daily allowance of divine protein in the last 72 hours. Dragon essence increases collagen. Wolf essence increases vitality. You’re not glowing because of potatoes, honey. You’re glowing because you’re a walking sperm bank.]

Roxy choked on her tea.

She coughed violently, her face turning a shade of red that rivaled Zarek’s fire.

"Luna! Are you alright?" Sera gasped, patting her back.

"Fine!" Roxy wheezed, waving her hand. "I’m fine! Just... went down the wrong pipe."

She glared at the invisible System window until it vanished.

She cleared her throat, smoothing down her robes. She needed to change the subject before the System decided to display a pie chart of her recent sexual activities.

"Anyway," Roxy said, her voice a little high-pitched. "I didn’t call you all here to talk about my skin. I called you because we have a party to plan."

The females leaned in, ears perked.

"The Gala is in three days," Roxy explained. "And frankly, my family doesn’t really have nice presentable clothes. And the babies grow out of their clothes every hour. We need outfits."

She reached behind her and pulled a heavy tarp off the sled she had dragged over.

Underneath lay the bolts of silk Torian had brought from the Golden Citadel.

Gasps rippled through the circle. Eyes widened. Hands reached out involuntarily. To the wolves of the Iron-Wood, who wore mostly rough furs and leather, the sight of shimmering gold, deep crimson, and starlight-silver silk was like seeing magic.

"Is that... cloud-weave?" an elder whispered.

"It’s silk," Roxy smiled. "And here is the deal. I need help sewing. I need a dress for myself, clothes for my mates, and outfits for the children. If you help me make them... you can use the rest of the fabric to make dresses for yourselves."

For a second, there was silence.

Then, chaos.

"Me! I can sew!" Sera yelled, forgetting her pregnancy as she lunged forward.

"I am the best seamstress in the pack!" another shouted.

"Touch the gold one, and I will bite you!"

They swarmed. It wasn’t aggressive, but it was overwhelming. Twenty excited, strong she-wolves rushed Roxy, grabbing at the fabric, shouting measurements, and clamoring for the chance to touch the Luna and the holy fabric.

"Wait! One at a time!" Roxy laughed, holding her hands up as she was pressed backward. "Ladies! There is enough for everyone! Don’t rip it!"

She was drowning in a sea of fur and eager hands. Someone was tugging her sleeve; someone else was trying to measure her waist with a piece of string.

"Luna, hold still! I need your inseam!"

"Guys, give me some air!" Roxy gasped, stumbling back.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over the group.

It was massive, and it radiated an aura of pure, apex authority that froze the wolves in their tracks.

The shadow didn’t need to talk.

Two large, strong hands gripped Roxy’s waist from behind and lifted her effortlessly into the air.

Roxy yelped as she was hoisted up, finding herself cradled against a broad, solid chest covered in white silk.

She looked up. Torian was looking down at her, his icy blue eyes unamused. He shifted his gaze to the crowd of females.

The she-wolves scrambled back as if they had been burned. They dropped the fabric, heads bowing, tails tucked between their legs. This wasn’t Kaelen, their Alpha, whom they knew and loved.

This was the Tiger King, a stranger, a royal, and a predator who looked at them like they were noisy children.

"You are crowding her," Torian stated, his voice cool. "The Luna is fragile. Do not crush her with your enthusiasm."

"We... we apologize, Your Highness!" Sera squeaked, bowing low.

"It’s fine, Torian," Roxy patted his chest, though she didn’t ask to be put down. "They’re just excited about the silk."

Torian sniffed, looking at the bolts of fabric with a critical eye. "It is good silk. It deserves respect. You may take it," he addressed the wolves, "but if the stitching on my Luna’s dress is anything less than perfect, I will be displeased."

"Yes! Perfect! We promise!" The wolves nodded frantically.

"Good," Torian said. "Distribute the labor. Have the garments ready by sunset tomorrow."

He turned on his heel, still holding Roxy in his arms like she weighed nothing, and began to walk away from the village center.

"Bye, guys! Have fun!" Roxy waved over his shoulder.

The wolves immediately pounced on the silk the moment the Tiger was out of range, their excited chatter resuming at a lower volume.

***

The walk back to the cabin was quiet.

Torian carried her easily, his boots crunching in the snow. He didn’t take the main path; he cut through the dense pine woods that separated the village from their secluded home.

The forest was silent, the trees heavy with snow, creating a white, hushed cathedral around them.

Roxy rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent. She didn’t know when she started becoming comfortable with the big tiger, but after having sex a few times with him, she had become more comfortable around him.

"You didn’t have to rescue me," Roxy murmured, tracing the embroidery on his tunic. "I had them under control."

"You were drowning in fur," Torian corrected, looking straight ahead. "And I do not like it when others crowd you. You smell of too many wolves as it is."

His grip on her tightened slightly.

Roxy looked up at his jawline. It was tense.

"Are you jealous, Sparkles?" she teased gently.

Torian didn’t answer immediately. He walked a few more steps, his eyes scanning the trees. Then, without warning, he stopped.

They were in a small clearing, surrounded by towering Iron-Wood pines. The cabin was still a mile away.

"Torian?" Roxy asked, sensing the shift in his energy.

He didn’t speak. He walked over to a large, ancient tree with thick, rough bark.

He lowered her legs to the ground but didn’t let go. Instead, he pressed her back against the tree trunk, trapping her between the rough wood and his hard body.

"Torian?" Roxy’s breath hitched.

"Jealous?" Torian repeated her question, his voice a low, dangerous purr that vibrated against her ribs. "That is a small word for what I feel, Roxy."

He leaned in, bracing his hands on the tree on either side of her head.

"I am a King," Torian corrected. "And Kings are not known for their patience."

Before she could respond, he crashed his lips onto hers.