Baby System: I'm the Beast World's Only Hope!-Chapter 335: Episode 333: Ren Runs Away.

Ren’s chest hitched, a ragged, strangled gasp tearing from his lips. The vibrant emerald green of his irises swam with a thick, heavy layer of unshed tears.

His skin was impossibly pale, completely drained of the blistering, fevered flush of his heat. He looked at her as if she were a ghost, his jaw trembling violently. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a broken, devastated sound escaped.

And then, he moved.

Ren didn’t just pull away; he shoved her. His large hands planted firmly on her shoulders, pushing her to the side with enough force to topple her onto the furs, but carefully enough not to bruise her skin.

"Ren!" Roxy cried out, scrambling to sit up.

Before the single syllable even finished echoing off the stone walls, the air in the master bedroom violently cracked with the displacement of raw, localized magic.

The agonizing sound of bones rapidly realigning and expanding filled the room. In a blinding flash of emerald and crimson light, the mortal form of the Fox King completely vanished.

Standing on the floorboards was a nine-tailed red fox.

The beast was massive, its thick fur bristling with pure, unadulterated panic. The giant fox didn’t even look back at her. It dived directly toward the massive arched glass windows at the far end of the chambers.

The heavy glass shattered, raining crystalline shards onto the courtyard below as the massive beast launched itself into the cool, dark night air.

Roxy’s heart struck rock bottom. The heavy, euphoric haze of their shared climax instantly mutated into a suffocating, paralyzing dread.

"Ren!" she screamed, her voice cracking.

She threw herself off the mattress, ignoring the sharp sting of the cold floor against her bare feet. She sprinted to the shattered window, gripping the fractured wooden frame as she leaned out into the biting wind. Her green eyes frantically scanned the sprawling, torch-lit grounds and the dense, dark tree line of the Iron-Wood forest bordering the Manor.

Nothing.

The Fox King was entirely, impossibly gone, swallowed completely by the shadows of the night.

What the hell had just happened?

Roxy’s mind spun violently. She couldn’t stand here. She had to find him.

Roxy spun away from the window, her hands trembling so violently she could barely feel her own fingers. She scrambled across the floorboards, frantically grabbing the discarded layers of her magnificent white chiffon dress.

She didn’t bother with the complex, crisscrossing straps. She didn’t even look for the heavy, segmented gold belt or her intricate sandals. She simply pulled the main, flowing chiffon piece over her head, leaving her dark curls in an absolute, untamed bird’s nest around her shoulders.

She bolted out of the master bedroom, her bare feet slapping loudly against the polished wood of the hallway.

The heavy, rhythmic thumping of the celebration drums grew deafening as she reached the top of the grand staircase.

The massive great hall was a chaotic, roaring sea of visiting tribes, clinking goblets, and roaring laughter. The party was in full, glorious swing, completely oblivious to the catastrophic fracture that had just occurred on the second floor.

Roxy didn’t care about her disheveled appearance. She didn’t care about the gasps of the visiting female as she practically threw herself down the stairs, completely ignoring her regal, untouchable facade.

She scanned the massive crowd, her frantic green eyes searching for the one warlord whom she needed right now.

"Zarek!" Roxy screamed, her voice cutting through the heavy bass of the drums.

The Dragon King instantly snapped to attention. Zarek’s golden eyes widened as they locked onto his Queen. He took one look at her bare feet, her haphazardly thrown-on chiffon dress, and the absolute, raw terror radiating from her scent, and his instincts violently engaged.

He shoved a visiting bear-shifter out of his way, crossing the great hall in three massive strides.

"Roxy, what happened?" Zarek demanded, his deep voice a terrifying rumble. His golden aura flared, heavy and protective.

"Go after him," Roxy gasped, grabbing the thick, golden silk of his Tang top, her chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath. "Ren. He shifted. He jumped out of the bedroom window. Zarek, something is horribly wrong. He was crying—you have to go after him!"

His golden eyes narrowed into lethal slits as he processed the information.

A sleek, elegant shadow materialized at Zarek’s side. Syris, the Snake King, stepped forward, his green eyes calculating and cold as he assessed Roxy’s trembling form.

"A fox cannot outrun a serpent in the dark," Syris stated, his voice a smooth, venomous hiss of absolute determination. He looked up at the towering Dragon. "I will track his scent trails. You will provide the aerial sweep. We will bring the trickster back, my Queen."

Zarek didn’t even waste time nodding. He and Syris immediately pivoted, tearing through the heavy oak front doors of the Manor and launching themselves into the chaotic night, leaving a trail of displaced, terrified guests in their wake.

Ren was no child but they would do whatever their Queen needs them to do.

Roxy stood at the base of the staircase, her hands dropping to her sides. She watched the heavy doors swing shut, utterly distraught. A cold, hollow ache throbbed in her chest. She had never seen Ren look so broken.

Before the surrounding crowd of diplomats and warlords could begin to aggressively whisper about the Matriarch’s highly concerning, disheveled appearance, a massive, warm shadow eclipsed her.

Torian stepped directly in front of her, completely blocking her from the probing eyes.

The White Tiger Alpha didn’t ask questions. He simply unclasped the massive, impossibly thick fur mantle from his own broad shoulders and draped it heavily over Roxy. He pulled the thick fur securely around her neck, completely hiding the wrinkled chiffon, the exposed skin, and the fading flush of her recent, frantic intimacy.

"Tyara needs to feed," Torian announced.

His deep, rumbling voice carried effortlessly over the music, perfectly pitched for the surrounding dignitaries to hear.

Roxy blinked, her frantic green eyes looking up. Torian’s striking blue eyes were completely calm, anchored by a deep, immovable bedrock of absolute support. He reached into the crook of his massive arm, bringing forward a tiny, fluffy bundle.

Roxy looked down. Tyara was wide awake, her little blue eyes blinking curiously up at her mother. The tiny white tiger cub wasn’t crying. She wasn’t squirming. She was completely, perfectly content.

Roxy’s throat tightened. She understood instantly. Torian was providing her with an airtight, unassailable excuse to flee the public eye, protecting her dignity and hiding her panic from the Beastworld.

"I am fine," Roxy forced herself to whisper, taking the quiet cub from his massive hands and clutching Tyara tightly to her chest beneath the heavy fur.

Kaelen came to their side. The Wolf Alpha’s icy blue eyes swept over the crowd, his posture rigid and authoritative. Standing right beside him was Caspian, the former Merman, holding little Zale securely against his chest.

Zale’s bright green eyes stared curiously at Roxy’s messy curls, completely silent.

"We have the floor, my Queen," Kaelen assured her, his deep voice a steady, grounding force amidst the chaos. "Caspian and I will keep the celebration in full swing. No one will suspect a thing. Go with Torian."

How can anyone not suspect a thing when I ran out like that?

Roxy swallowed the heavy lump of gratitude and terror lodged in her throat. She offered a tight, single nod.

She turned slightly, offering a forced, polite smile to the circle of visiting females who were watching the exchange with confused expressions.

"My deepest apologies, ladies," Roxy excused herself, her voice remarkably steady despite the violent trembling of her hands beneath the fur coat. "The duties of a mother call. Please, enjoy the feast."

Without waiting for their replies, Roxy turned and began to ascend the grand staircase. Torian flanked her immediately, his massive body acting as an impenetrable, moving shield between her and the rest of the continent.

As the Matriarch and the White Tiger disappeared onto the second-floor landing, the facade of polite celebration in the great hall seamlessly resumed. The drums beat louder, and the wine continued to flow.

But near the base of the stairs, the sharp, hyper-observant instincts of the visiting wolves were already churning.

Sera leaned casually against a marble pillar. She watched the empty staircase for a long moment, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. She tilted her head, whispering softly to Mara, who was standing beside her with a fresh goblet of wine.

"The Queen looks like she just survived a battlefield," Sera sighed dreamily. "She is very serious in building her own pack, Mara..."

Sera’s words completely died in her throat.

A sudden, paralyzing drop in temperature froze the air directly behind her neck.

Sera slowly turned her head. Standing barely three feet away, having completely bypassed her elite wolf hearing, was Kaelen.

The Wolf King’s icy blue eyes were locked directly onto Sera. There was no warmth in his gaze, no polite diplomacy. It was the flat, dead, and utterly terrifying stare of an apex predator looking at a highly expendable piece of meat.

The lethal promise in Kaelen’s blue eyes was absolute: Finish that sentence, and you will not leave the Iron-Wood alive.

Sera swallowed hard, her tail instantly tucking between her legs as she adjusted herself.

Mara simply took a slow, deliberate sip of her spiced wine, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the dancing crowds.

"If you don’t want to end up as the Alpha’s food," Mara whispered, her voice a deadly, uncompromising warning that offered absolutely no sanctuary, "then shut up."