Baby System: I'm the Beast World's Only Hope!-Chapter 289: Episode 287: There Seem to be a Problem

"Mummy is still sleeping," Iris declared, her high-pitched voice dropping into what she clearly thought was a very intimidating, authoritative whisper. "And she shouldn’t be disturbed. Please don’t be near her room."

Zarek looked down at the tiny girl.

The fierce, brooding lines of his scarred face melted, replaced by a profound, heart-melting softness. Zarek didn’t laugh, and he didn’t brush past her. He respected her braveness to stop him like this.

Despite knowing that with one finger she would be up and out of the way.

With a soft pop of his knees, the massive Dragon slowly crouched down until he was at eye level with the little wolf. He rested his heavy forearms on his thighs, his golden eyes incredibly gentle.

"Is that so?" Zarek whispered back, matching her serious, hushed tone. "And where are your brothers, little warrior?"

Iris puffed out her chest, immensely proud of her tactical deployment. "Axel is guarding the back kitchen door. Onyx is watching the big windows. And Drax is walking on the roof. They all went to take their places to keep Mummy safe while she rests. Nobody gets in."

Zarek’s draconic heart swelled with overwhelming, fierce pride. He reached out with one massive, calloused hand, gently pushing the wooden training sword down toward the floorboards.

"You are doing a perfect job," Zarek rumbled warmly. He scooped his large arms under her tiny frame, effortlessly lifting her off the ground and settling her securely against his broad chest. "Good girl, Iris."

Iris dropped her sword with a clatter, wrapping her small arms around Zarek’s thick neck. She nuzzled her face deeply into his soot-stained collar, her black ears drooping happily as she inhaled the familiar, comforting scent of her favorite daddy.

From her perch in Zarek’s arms, Iris peered over the Dragon’s broad shoulder. Her golden eyes blinked as she spotted the second figure standing quietly on the porch.

"Hi, Daddy Ren," Iris whispered sleepily, waving her stuffed rabbit.

Zarek turned his head, his eyes locking onto the Fox King. He had known Ren was walking behind him, but the Fox’s absolute, suffocating silence was entirely out of character.

Usually, Ren would have already cracked a joke about Zarek getting bested by a toddler. But today, Ren’s green eyes were distant, carrying a heavy, melancholy shadow that Zarek couldn’t quite decipher.

But he didn’t quite care.

Ren didn’t say a word. He simply offered Iris a soft, somewhat strained smile. He walked past the Dragon, stepping over the threshold into the Manor. Ren carefully unhooked the beautifully carved wooden chests from his belt, and set the gifts gently on the floor near the entryway.

The quiet moment was soon interrupted by the rapid, heavy thud of approaching footsteps.

Kaelen and Torian emerged from the tree line almost simultaneously, both having pushed their feral forms to the absolute limit to return to the Iron-Wood.

Kaelen was carrying the heavy, bundled snow-fox furs and woven baskets of sweet mountain berries his pack had offered. Torian was holding gifts too but practically vibrating with kinetic, anxious energy.

The White Tiger bounded up the porch steps, his eyes wide and frantic as he looked around the living room. "Is she alright?"

"Keep your voice down, Tiger," Zarek hissed, gently covering Iris’s ear. "She is sleeping."

Upstairs, in the quiet of the master bedroom, Roxy woke up with a sharp, ragged gasp.

She bolted upright in the massive bed, her hands flying to her chest as her heart hammered a frantic, terrifying rhythm against her ribs. She was drenched in a cold sweat, the heavy furs tangled tightly around her legs.

It had been a dream. A very bad, incredibly vivid dream.

Roxy rubbed her face fiercely with both hands, trying to scrub the lingering terror from her skin. The dream had felt too real, like a dark omen pressing directly against her skull.

The combination of the nightmare, the lingering exhaustion of her new pregnancy, and the sheer, overwhelming stress of the Wither-Rot cure left her in an absolutely foul mood.

Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with dry cotton, and a dull, throbbing headache pulsed right behind her eyes.

She threw the furs off her legs, entirely unamused by the world. Still wearing her nightgown that covered much but still left a feast for the eyes, she trudged heavily out of the bedroom and down the wooden staircase.

The moment her bare foot hit the first-floor landing, the four Alphas in the living room completely froze.

Four pairs of intensely devoted, predatory eyes snapped toward the stairs. Torian immediately stopped his pacing. Zarek sat up rigidly on the sofa, still holding Iris. Kaelen abandoned the furs, and Ren’s bushy tail gave a hopeful twitch.

They watched her descend, practically holding their collective breath, ready to wait on her hand and foot.

Roxy stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She glared out at the gathered Kings, her green eyes dark, puffy, and completely devoid of her usual bright warmth.

"Hello," Roxy grumbled, her voice raspy and profoundly cranky.

She didn’t wait for a response. She didn’t offer a hug or ask about their trips. Roxy turned on her heel and marched straight past the living room, heading directly into the kitchen.

They all exchanged highly alarmed, completely bewildered glances.

What happened to Roxy this time?

In the kitchen, Roxy ignored the massive, empty iron cauldrons from the night before. She marched to the cold pantry, grabbed a massive clay jug of fresh, chilled spring water, and didn’t even bother finding a cup.

She hoisted the heavy jug with both hands and chugged the freezing water directly from the rim. The icy liquid washed down her parched throat, finally grounding her frantic, dream-addled nerves.

She let out a long, heavy breath, lowering the jug. The sharp edges of her foul mood slowly began to dull, replaced by a deep, aching need for physical comfort.

Roxy wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and walked slowly back into the living room.

Torian was already standing. The White Tiger Alpha had closed the distance to the kitchen archway, his massive arms slightly extended, practically vibrating with the need to touch her.

He didn’t care that she was grumpy; he just needed to know his cub and his mate were safe.

Roxy looked at Torian’s broad chest. Her shoulders slumped.

Without a single word, Roxy closed the remaining distance and practically collapsed forward. She settled herself entirely into Torian’s waiting arms.

Torian let out a deep, shuddering sigh of pure relief. His massive arms locked securely around her waist, hauling her flush against him. He buried his face in her dark curls, nuzzling deeply into her neck, a loud, rumbling purr vibrating against her collarbone.

Roxy closed her eyes, letting the Tiger’s immense strength support her completely. She turned her head, looking out over Torian’s thick shoulder at the rest of the living room.

Zarek was gently rocking Iris. Kaelen was smiling softly at her from the rug. Ren was leaning against the wall, offering her a quiet, devoted nod.

Roxy’s brow furrowed. The foul mood was entirely gone, replaced by a sudden, creeping spike of anxiety. She did a quick mental headcount. One, two, three, four.

"Where is Syris?" Roxy asked, her voice tight, pulling back slightly from Torian’s chest. The Snake Beastman had gone to the Southern Swamps hours ago. He should have been the first one back.

Before any of them could answer, the front doors flew open. Drax rushed into the living room, his chest heaving, his eyes wide with alarm. He had been patrolling the roof, exactly as he promised his siblings.

"Mother," Drax gasped, bracing his hands on his knees as he fought to catch his breath. He looked up, his expression grim. "There seems to be a tiny problem. Daddy Syris is injured."