I gathered the cubs for a morning excursion, four bundles of fur and energy that had somehow grown heavier in the week since Leon and I had tried for his litter. They were nine weeks old now, far too big for me to carry all at once, so they walked alongside me, or at least they were supposed to.
We made our way to where Layla and Rhonda sat under a sprawling oak, watching their men haul timber and stone to rebuild Layla’s damaged home. Other villagers worked nearby, the sounds of hammering and shouting filling the warm air.
I somehow found my eyes wandering to Veylan.
The lone wolf worked with his bare chest, his silver hair tied back, sweat gleaming on skin that looked like it had been carved from moonstone. He was lifting beams that would have taken three normal men, his muscles rippling with effortless power. He was handsome, I realized with a start, truly handsome, his beauty rivaling even Ravin’s formidable physique.
Then I remembered.
Last night. The stream. The rock. Caelion inside me, my screams echoing off the water, and then the snap of the branch, the wide silver eyes, the mortifying realization that Veylan had seen everything.
My face heated instantly, burning from throat to hairline, the memory flooding back with visceral clarity. Every touch, every sound, every moment of abandon that he had witnessed.
Just then, as if summoned by my thoughts, Veylan looked up. Our eyes met across the clearing, his silver to my no-doubt mortified gaze. He froze, a beam still balanced on his shoulder, and then he quickly turned away, his movements jerky, almost dropping his load.
I was even more mortified.
One of the cubs; Jasper, always Jasper; let out a pitiful whimper and flopped onto the dirt path, his small legs splayed, his belly exposed to the sun.
I tugged at his paw. "Come on. Up."
He responded with a high-pitched whine of utter refusal and went limp, becoming dead weight in my grip.
I sighed, long and suffering, and hoisted him into my arms. He was heavy, a solid lump of fur and bone and stubbornness, and I heaved and huffed my way the remaining distance to the shade tree, my back screaming, my arms trembling.
"Jasper," I panted, setting him down in the grass near Layla’s feet, "sweetie, you need to start walking. Mommy can’t keep carrying you. You’re too heavy."
Jasper looked at me with eyes that were pure innocence and manipulation. Then he had the audacity to throw his head back, yawn widely, and fall asleep. Right there. On my foot.
I stared down at him, this lazy cub who had conquered me completely, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
"That one," Rhonda chuckled, nodding at Jasper’s sleeping form, "he’s going to be a king someday. Look at that confidence. That complete disregard for effort."
"He’s going to be the death of me," I muttered, settling onto the grass, Jasper’s warm weight pinning my ankle. His brothers; more energetic, more considerate; tumbled and played nearby, wrestling with each other, chasing butterflies, generally being adorable and exhausting.
We sat in companionable shade, watching the men work, the cubs providing running commentary in their wordless way. I was starting to relax, the mortification of the Veylan incident fading into background embarrassment, when a shadow fell over us.
I looked up.
Rina stood before Veylan, who had approached to grab water from the nearby barrel. She blocked his path, her posture predatory, her smile sharp as broken glass.
"You’re the son of Loomis," she said, not a question but a declaration. "The wolf chief of the northern border. The Snow Prince." She circled him, assessing, her eyes raking over his body with obvious appetite. "I recognize you. Your father gave you to me, did he not? A peace offering between our peoples. And you refused." She laughed, the sound brittle. "He exiled you for it, didn’t he? For making him break his word to my father. For embarrassing him before the northern tribes."
Veylan stood still, his expression carefully blank, but I saw the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand tightened on the water ladle.
"Well, now you’re here," Rina continued, her voice rising, carrying, making sure others heard. "And I want you to become my mate. I will send a message to your father, have him claim you back, restore his honor by fulfilling his promise. You will be mine, Veylan. As you should have been all along."
Veylan set the ladle down with deliberate calm. He looked at her, his silver eyes cold as winter frost.
"I will not become your mate," he said, his voice quiet but carrying. "I cut myself off from my father’s clan. I am a lone wolf. I owe no allegiance to Loomis, and I honor no words made between him and your father. I am my own. I belong to no one."
Rina’s smile didn’t waver, but her eyes hardened. "The mate selection is tomorrow night," she said, smug certainty dripping from every word. "You will become mine, Veylan. The laws of the gathering demand participation. And I will choose you."
"I doubt it, us male have rights to refuse...and I will definitely refuse you," he told her, and there was something in his voice, some edge of knowledge or confidence, that made her falter for just a moment.
Then she recovered, tossing her hair, turning away with a laugh that sounded forced. "We shall see, Snow Prince. We shall see."
She sauntered off, hips swaying, and Veylan watched her go, his expression unreadable.
I looked down at Jasper, still dead asleep on my foot, snoring softly with his tongue lolling out, and then back at the tension in Veylan’s stance. His shoulders were rigid, his jaw tight, humiliation and anger warring in his expression. He was a proud warrior, skilled and honorable. He shouldn’t have to be forced to mate with someone he despised, traded like livestock to satisfy old promises between men who had never asked what he wanted.
But it was the way of their world, I reminded myself. Mates were chosen for alliance, for power, for peace. Love was a luxury, not a requirement. I shouldn’t interfere. And yet...
"Can you believe the nerve of her?" Rhonda whispered, leaning close, her eyes bright with scandalized delight. "Claiming him like he’s a lost necklace she found in the dirt."
"She’s desperate," Layla said, fanning herself with a leaf, watching her own mate haul a beam across the clearing. "Rina lost two mates in one battle. Her father’s dead, her status is crumbling. She needs a powerful male to prop her up, and that silver wolf..." She fanned herself more vigorously. "He would certainly do."
Rhonda giggled, a sound that made Jasper twitch in his sleep. "Speaking of powerful males," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "have you seen the new blacksmith? The panther shifter who arrived yesterday? Those arms. Those shoulders. I have half a mind to ask him to dinner."
"You’re getting another mate?" I asked, surprised.
Rhonda arched an eyebrow, her smile turning sly. "Thinking about it. Why not? My first is wonderful, my second is attentive, and my third..." She rolled her eyes fondly. "Well, he can be oblivious. A woman has needs, you know? And sometimes you just want a different kind of scratch."
Layla snorted. "Needs? Rhonda, you can barely handle the ones you’ve got. Can you really handle another mate?"
Rhonda arched an eyebrow. "I can handle anything, thank you very much. Besides, I love sex. Love it. The more the merrier, I say."
They both turned to me, expectant, and I felt my face heat. "What?"
"You’re quiet over there," Layla prodded. "Four mates. FOUR. And you’re blushing like a virgin. Spill. How do you handle them all?"
I laughed, shifting Jasper’s weight off my foot, feeling the pins and needles as blood returned. "I only have four," I said, holding up my fingers, "but with Soryn, it feels like I have an extra."
Rhonda leaned in, intrigued. "What do you mean?"
I lowered my voice, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "Soryn has two," I whispered.
"Two what?" Rhonda asked, confused.
I raised my eyebrows meaningfully.
Layla’s mouth fell open. "No."
"Yes."
"Two? At the same time?" Rhonda’s voice rose to a squeak.
I nodded, trying to look nonchalant despite my own burning cheeks. "In his half-form, he has... equipment for both forms. And when he’s fully shifted to human..." I fanned myself, remembering. "It’s intense."
"How does it feel?" Rhonda breathed, her eyes wide as dinner plates. "Having two?"
I thought about it, searching for words that wouldn’t make me sound completely debauched. "It feels..." I smiled, slow and genuine. "It feels like having two mates at the same time. Like being completely full, completely surrounded, completely his. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Like you’re being worshipped from every angle."
Rhonda and Layla stared at me, then at each other, then burst into laughter that rang through the clearing, scandalized and delighted and maybe a little jealous.
"You’re a goddess," Layla declared, wiping tears from her eyes. "A mad, magnificent goddess."
"And you’re all terrible influences," I laughed with them, feeling lighter than I had in days.
Layla fanned herself dramatically, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Woah! I need to get me a snake beast man then. I want two at the same time."
"Me too," Rhonda exhaled, leaning back against the tree trunk with a dreamy expression. "Two sounds like heaven."
We gossiped more, trading stories and secrets, the morning passing in pleasant companionship. Layla pointed out the blacksmith again, and Rhonda described in embarrassing detail what she would do to him if given half a chance. I shared tidbits about my own mates; Ravin’s possessiveness, Leon’s stamina, Caelion’s tenderness, Soryn’s creativity; until we were all flushed and giggling like girls at our first festival.
Then the cubs started whining.
Not Jasper, who could sleep through an earthquake, but the other three, circling back to me, nudging my hands, making hungry sounds that meant only one thing.
"That’s my cue," I said, gathering my things, nudging Jasper awake with my toe. "Come on, lazy prince. Time to go home."
"Wait," Rhonda said, her eyes widening. "Look."
I turned.
Ravin was suddenly at my side, as if summoned by my intent to leave. And behind him came Leon, Soryn slithering in his half-form, and Caelion, wet from wherever he had been working. My four mates, converging on me with perfect timing, with knowing smiles, with eyes that said they had heard at least some of our conversation.
I looked at them. I looked at my four cubs, three awake and one still trying to sleep on my foot.
I smiled slow and wicked.
"Perfect," I said. "You each can carry a cub. Fair is fair."
Ravin laughed, the sound booming and warm, and scooped up Atlas, tossing him onto his shoulder where the cub squeaked with delight. "Yes," he agreed, his golden eyes meeting mine with promises that made my stomach flutter. "Let’s go home."