Baby System: I'm the Beast World's Only Hope!-Chapter 124: Episode : Who did this to you?

"Well," Zarek muttered, leaning against the doorframe. "At least she isn’t crying."

The next morning, Roxy woke up to the smell of a bakery.

Her eyes snapped open. Yesterday’s tears were gone. And now she was very hungry.

She sat up in her nest of towels. The movement dislodged Axel, who had been sleeping on her shoulder. The wolf pup grumbled, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Roxy sniffed the air. Vanilla. Milk. Sugar.

Her stomach let out a roar that sounded like a disgruntled bear. She wanted the ice cream. She wanted it now.

But as her feet hit the floorboards, a second scent hit her brain, or rather, a second craving. It was savory, buttery, and meaty.

Chicken Pie.

The thought blossomed in her mind like a firework. Flaky golden crust. Thick gravy. Peas and carrots. And tender, shredded chicken.

She needed the cold sweet. But she needed the hot savory first. Roxy marched out of the bedroom.

The living room looked like a campsite. The buckets of milk were covered with a cloth near the door. The block of glacier ice was sitting in a large metal tub, slowly dripping. The bag of sugar and the eggs were on the table.

Her mates were asleep in various uncomfortable positions. Kaelen was on the floor. Torian was curled up on the small sofa. Zarek was sitting upright in a chair, arms crossed, sleeping with the stillness of a statue. Syris was coiled near the hearth in his snake form, soaking up the heat.

"Wake up!" Roxy announced, clapping her hands.

Everyone jumped. Torian fell off the sofa. Zarek opened his eyes, which immediately turned into slits. Syris uncoiled, shifting into his half-human, half-snake form.

"What is it?!" Torian shouted, looking for an enemy. "Are we under attack?!"

"No," Roxy said, marching into the kitchen. "I’m hungry."

The four men slumped, letting out a collective breath of relief.

"The Ice Cream," Kaelen yawned, scratching his chest. "We have the ingredients. We can make it now."

"Yes," Roxy agreed, inspecting the milk buckets. "But I have evolved."

She turned to look at them.

"I need savory to balance the sweet. I need Chicken Pie."

Torian blinked. "Chicken... Pie? A pie made of birds?"

"Yes. A crust. Gravy. Vegetables. And chicken." Roxy pointed a finger at Syris. "You. You’re the fastest hunter. Do you remember the Earth Chickens I caught a few months ago?"

Syris nodded slowly. "The fat, flightless birds. Yes."

"Go get them," Roxy commanded. "I need three. Plucked and cleaned. Go."

Syris didn’t hesitate. He was the one who had put the baby in her; he felt the most responsibility for her cravings. A chance to be useful and escape the mixing duty? He took it.

"Consider it done, my Queen," Syris said with a smooth bow. "I will return with the finest poultry the forest has to offer."

He grabbed a sack, flashed a smirk at Torian, who looked jealous that he didn’t get the solo mission, and darted out the front door. He shifted into his massive emerald snake form as he hit the snow, slithering away into the trees with terrifying speed.

Roxy turned back to the remaining three.

"Okay," she said, rubbing her hands together. "While he gets dinner, we make dessert."

Ten minutes later, the kitchen was filled up.

The children had woken up, drawn by the commotion and the sweet smell of the vanilla. They sat in a row on the kitchen counter, Drax, Axel, Onyx, and Iris, watching with wide, mesmerized eyes.

"Okay, class is in session," Roxy announced. She poured the heavy cream into a metal pot. "Torian, the eggs. I need only the yolks. Do not break them."

Torian stepped up, looking grim. He cracked a massive egg. It was the size of a melon.

"Gently," Roxy warned.

Torian focused. He used his claws with surgical precision, separating the massive orange yolk from the white slime. He dropped the yolk into the cream.

"Perfect," Roxy praised. "Now the sugar."

She poured the white powder in. The children gasped. They had never seen refined sugar. It sparkled like dust.

"Zarek," Roxy pointed to the glacier block. "Crush it.."

Zarek used his bare hands to crush them. The ice shattered into perfect, jagged pieces. He filled the larger wooden bucket with them.

Roxy placed the metal pot, filled with the custard mix, inside the wooden bucket of ice. She packed the sides with more ice and the rock salt.

"The salt lowers the freezing point," Roxy explained, pouring in the vanilla extract. The smell exploded in the room. "Now, we mix ’em. If we don’t mix it while it freezes, it becomes an ice block. We want it to be smooth."

The men nodded as if they understood.

She looked at Kaelen.

"Come on, Go."

Kaelen stepped up. He grabbed the handle of the spoon inside the pot.

"Spin?" Kaelen asked.

"Spin," Roxy commanded. "Fast. Consistent. Do not stop until I say so."

Kaelen began to churn. Surprisingly, he was fast. The metal spoon scraped against the pot, mixing the yellow custard as the ice around it did its work.

"Faster!" Roxy cheered.

"Go Dada!" the triplets screamed, kicking their legs.

"Smells like flowers," Drax whispered, sniffing the vanilla air. He was drooling slightly.

It took twenty minutes of Kaelen’s relentless stamina. The liquid began to thicken. It turned pale yellow, then white. It expanded, getting fluffy and dense.

"Stop!" Roxy ordered.

Kaelen stopped, panting slightly.

Roxy grabbed a clean spoon. She dipped it into the pot and pulled it out.

A perfect, thick dollop of vanilla ice cream sat on the spoon. It didn’t drip. It was solid, creamy, and flecked with tiny bubbles of air.

"We did it," Roxy whispered.

She grabbed four bowls. She scooped a massive portion for the kids, one for herself, and passed spoons to her mates.

"Eat," she commanded.

The room went silent as everyone took a bite.

Torian’s eyes widened. "It’s... cold. But... sweet? It melts into milk on the tongue."

"Fascinating texture," Zarek murmured, taking another bite.

The kids were in heaven. They were shoving the ice cream into their mouths with their hands, getting sticky white residue all over their faces.

Iris squealed, shivering from a brain freeze but refusing to stop.

Roxy looked at her bowl. It was perfect. It was exactly what she had cried for. It was cold, sweet, vanilla perfection.

She lifted the spoon to her lips, about to take a huge bite, when her stomach churned. Suddenly, the idea of putting cold, sweet milk into her already unsettled stomach felt revolting.

Roxy slowly lowered the spoon. She pushed the bowl away.

"I don’t want it," she said flatly.

The silence that followed was louder than the blizzard outside. Torian dropped his spoon. Kaelen stopped licking his bowl. Zarek stared at her.

"What?" Torian whispered.

"I don’t want it," Roxy repeated, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I feel sick from it."

"But..." Torian tried to whine.

"I know," Roxy sighed, looking guilty but also nauseous. "And you did a great job. The kids love it. But I just... I can’t eat it."

She looked at the door.

"I need the pie," she said. "The salty pie. The hot pie. That’s what I need."

"Women are terrifying," Kaelen whispered to Zarek.

For once, Zarek could agree with Kaelen.

Roxy stood up, ignoring their despair. Her hunger for the chicken was growing by the second.

"Where is Syris?" she muttered, pacing toward the window. "He should be back by now. Chickens aren’t that hard to catch."

She looked out the window. The snow was falling softly. The forest was quiet.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

Roxy felt a prickle of unease. It wasn’t hunger this time. The mating bond that connected her to the Basilisk throbbed.

"Something’s wrong," Roxy whispered.

"He is probably plucking them in the woods to avoid the mess," Kaelen dismissed, scraping the bottom of the pot.

"No," Roxy said, grabbing her coat. "He’s hurt."

Just as she reached for the door handle, a voice echoed from the clearing outside.

"I AM BACK!"

It was Syris. But his voice wasn’t the smooth, arrogant purr of the Basilisk King. It was ragged. Strained. Wet.

"See?" Torian huffed. "He is back. Drama queen."

Roxy threw the door open.

She expected to see Syris walking up the steps with a sack of chickens, looking smug.

Instead, she screamed.

Syris was dragging himself through the snow, leaving a wide, dark trail of red blood behind him.

He was clutching the sack of chickens in one hand, refusing to let go even as he stumbled. His skin was gray. His neon eyes were flickering, struggling to stay open.

But the most horrifying part was his tail.

Impaled through the thickest part of his emerald coils was a spear. It had pierced right through his scales, pinning him to his own agony.

"Syris!"

Roxy didn’t think about the cold. She didn’t think about her bare feet. She sprinted off the porch, landing in the snow.

She reached him just as he was about to slump face-first into the snow. He collapsed forward, into her arms, the sack of chickens spilling onto the white ground.

"Roxy..." Syris wheezed, blood bubbling past his lips. He looked up at her, his eyes unfocused. "I... I got the birds. Three. Fat ones."

Roxy didn’t have the patience to reply to him, she stared dead into his eyes, and snarled. "Who the fuck did this to you???"