The winter has finally started to thaw. I felt it first in the air, that subtle shift from biting cold to something gentler, something that carried the promise of green things growing. The snow retreated from the edges of the clearing, revealing mud and the first brave shoots of grass. The streams ran fuller, louder, singing of melt and movement. Spring was coming, and with it, the journey we had put off for too long.
We had to go to the Mer folk clan, the fish tribe as they were sometimes called, and find out about Levy’s power. The blue light that had erupted from her when she was born. And I needed answers too, about why I could heal others but could not ease my own pain, why the power turned inward like a blade when I needed it most.
The newborn cubs were a month old now, strong and loud and demanding. In one more month, my older cubs, my first litter, would be one year old. I could hardly believe it. A year since I had stumbled into this world, terrified and alone. And nearly a year since I had become a mother, first to Atlas, Ryder, Chase, and then Jasper, and now to Sikai, Niku, and Levy. Seven cubs. Six mates. A family so large it sometimes felt like a small tribe unto itself.
We sat outside the house, the afternoon sun warm enough that we did not need furs, a luxury after months of shivering. I looked around at my expanded family, at the chaos of bodies and voices, and I felt something swell in my chest that might have been pride or might have been panic. Probably both.
"We need to leave within the week," I said, my voice cutting through the noise of cubs playing and mates arguing over who had misplaced the cooking pot. "The thaw is here, and the passes will be clear."
Ravin looked up from where he was repairing a harness, his golden eyes sharp with understanding. "The Mer folk clan. You are certain?"
"The winter just started to thaw, at this moment we are at peace. I fear Rina might start plotting to come back and seek vengeance. It will be a fast trip," I said. "Levy’s power is something we need to understand, I had it...came to this world and somehow I already possess it, but Levy is born with the power. I need to understand the power inside her to keep her safe. And Caelion’s father have knowledge of the Azure Sovereign, he’s the only one I can turn to right now."
Caelion nodded, his pale hair catching the light. "My father might know, but even if he doesn’t he’s the only person right now we know that knows about the history of the Azure Sovereign."
"And the timing?" Leon asked, his face serious. "We leave our village vulnerable. Rina and her mate are still out there."
I exchanged a look with Ravin. After the fight, the cheetahs were also badly wounded, and many of them including our tribe had died. But Rina is someone I learn never to dismiss, she’s evil and will do anything to help herself.
"That is why we must go now," I said, my voice dropping so the cubs would not hear. "Before winter fully releases its grip. Before Rina realizes how many of our warriors are weakened by the lack of beast power."
"You think she will attack?" Veylan asked, his scholarly mind already calculating distances and timelines.
"I think she will attack, I won’t put it pass her she has been out to get me since I got with Ravin and more so after Leon. I only fuel her hatred when I took you too, Veylan." I said. "And that is why Caelion and I worked out the route. We go fast. We go light. We reach the sea, we get our answers, and we return before the last of the snow melts."
Caelion unfolded a rough map he had drawn on cured hide. "Three days to the coast if we travel hard. One day with the Mer folk, perhaps two if they are reluctant to share their knowledge. Three days back." He traced the line with his finger. "We could be home before the thaw is complete."
The planning dissolved into chaos soon after. Six mates meant six opinions on what constituted essential packing, and the argument that ensued would have been comical if we were not trying to leave within days.
"We need the smoked meat," Leon insisted, hauling a heavy bundle toward the sled.
"We need less weight if we are to travel fast," Ravin countered, removing half the bundle and setting it aside.
"We need the tent," Veylan said, folding the thick hide structure with precise movements.
"We need to sleep under stars like normal people," Soryn argued, though he was currently wrestling with Atlas for the blanket him thinking it was a game of tug and war.
Aureon, to his credit, said nothing. He simply moved through the chaos, gathering what we actually needed, replacing what was broken, his white fur a beacon of calm in the storm of preparation. He caught my eye at one point and smiled, and I felt my heart stutter in a way that had nothing to do with fear.
"New Daddy is good at packing," Atlas observed, having abandoned his argument with Soryn to watch Aureon work.
"New Daddy is organized," Ryder agreed.
"New Daddy," Chase beamed, which seemed to be his contribution to most conversations lately.
I laughed, the sound cutting through the bickering, and for a moment, my mates stopped their arguing to look at me. At all of us. At this ridiculous, beautiful, chaotic family we had built.
"We leave at dawn," I said. "Pack what you can carry. Leave what you cannot. The answers we seek are worth more than any comfort."
They nodded, one by one, and the chaos settled into purpose. We would go to the sea. We would find the truth about Levy’s power, about my own. And we would return before the thaw made us vulnerable.
---
We left at dawn, as promised, the sky still bruised with the last shadows of night. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of thawing earth and new beginnings. All six of my mates walked with me: Ravin, Leon, Soryn, Caelion, Veylan, and Aureon. Their packs were heavy, but their steps were light, and Aureon walked close enough that his shoulder brushed mine, his presence a comfort I had not expected to need.
The journey was hard, the trails muddy and treacherous, but we made good time. One day of walking brought us to the foothills, where the air grew warmer and the trees began to show the first hints of green. We made camp early in the evening, too exhausted to do more than build a small fire and collapse into our furs.
It was there, in the relative quiet of the wilderness, that I found myself thinking of home, of the chaos we had left behind. The memories made me smile even as my bones ached from the day’s march.
We found a stream the next afternoon, the water running clear and cold from the melting snows higher up. It was warm enough that the cubs would not freeze, though they would certainly complain. My mates and I stripped them down, the older cubs eager to help, the younger ones already voicing their displeasure.
If anything, they made it harder. Jasper, in his enthusiasm, had poured an entire bucket of water over Niku’s head, which would have been fine except Niku was not ready for it and screamed like he was being murdered, his tiny paws flailing, his face turning purple with indignation. Chase, trying to be helpful, had attempted to rub soap on Sikai’s back but used so much that the cub emerged looking like a white puffball, blinking through a mask of lather that dripped into his eyes and made him wail. When they were clean enough, Ryder, determined to help, wrapped Niku in a towel, got the ends tangled around his own feet, and ended up spinning Niku around like a top until Leon intervened, extracting both cubs from the mess with the practiced efficiency of a male who had done this many times before.
Levara, my sweet Levara, was the only easy one. She allowed me to bathe her without fuss, sitting in the cold water with a regal expression that suggested she was tolerating this indignity only because it pleased her queen. She did not shiver, did not cry, simply endured with the patience of one who knows her own worth. She was as regal as a princess, her golden fur gleaming, her eyes half closed in contentment then huff at all the others like they were peasants who did not understand cleanliness. The thought made me laugh even as I scrubbed soap behind her ears with fingers that were going numb from the cold, and she opened one eye to look at me with what might have been approval.
Atlas had gone hunting with his daddy that morning or rather observing his daddy. Ravin had allowed him to track rabbits and smaller animals, teaching him patience and stillness, the way to hold his body low to the ground, the way to breathe without sound. They returned as the sun began to dip toward the horizon, painting the world in gold and rose, and Atlas came bounding toward me with a smug look that I knew all too well. He had something in his mouth.
He dropped it in front of me with a flourish that would have done a seasoned warrior proud. It was a rabbit, bloody and dead, its neck broken cleanly, its eyes glassy and staring. "Look mama," he said proudly, his chest puffed out, his tail straight up with satisfaction, his entire body radiating accomplishment. "I hunt a rabbit for you."
I cleared my throat, staring at the gift. Blood pooled beneath it, dark and thick, and I felt my stomach turn over, my throat tightening with the effort of keeping my composure. "Oh," I said, my voice coming out slightly strangled, higher than I intended. "Wow. What a brave one you are."
All that blood was making me queasy, the smell of it rich and metallic, but I would not dim his pride for the world. I reached out and ruffled his fur, ignoring the gore that smeared against my fingers, the warmth of the dead thing that seemed to cling to my skin. "Thank you, my brave hunter. We will eat well tonight."
He beamed, his tail wagging so hard his whole body moved with it, and I signaled discreetly for one of the others to remove the rabbit before I actually vomited on my son’s first kill. Ravin, hiding a smile, scooped it up and carried it away to be cleaned, leaving me to breathe through my mouth until the nausea passed.
Chase and Ryder had been playing with Niku and Sikai near the fire, a rough game of chase and pounce that had seemed harmless enough, the kind of play that all cubs engaged in. But it ended in tears, as it often did, when the babies did not understand their own strength, did not know that their claws were weapons now, not just curious appendages. Niku, excited and overstimulated, had swiped at Ryder with claws that were still too sharp, too uncontrolled, and caught him across the cheek, leaving three thin lines that welled with blood.
"Mama," Ryder cried, stumbling toward me with his hand pressed to his face, his lower lip trembling, his eyes wide with betrayal. "Sakai scratch my eyes."
"Sikai," I corrected automatically, reaching for him, pulling him into my lap. "And he did not mean it, Ryder. He is a baby still. He does not know how sharp his claws are."
I cooed over my older cub, who looked mighty pitiful with his tear streaked face and his quivering lower lip, his breath coming in hiccups. A scratch, nothing more, barely enough to bleed, but to him it was a betrayal of the highest order, a violation of the trust between siblings. I sighed and let the healing tide rise, just a trickle of blue light that flowed from my palm to his cheek. The skin knitted together beneath my fingers, leaving not even a mark. "Good as new," I said, kissing his forehead. He touched his face, felt the smooth skin, and his tears stopped as quickly as they had started, wonder replacing hurt in his wide eyes.
My little Jasper laid near me and Levara, having escaped the chaos of bathing and playing by the simple expedient of falling asleep before it could touch him. He curled into a ball, his golden fur catching the firelight, his breathing soft and even, his face peaceful in a way that the waking world rarely allowed. My sleeping prince. I reached out and rubbed his head, feeling the softness of his ears beneath my fingers, the warmth of his small body, the trust implicit in his relaxation.
"Never change, my love," I whispered, my heart aching with the sweetness of him, with the knowledge that he would, inevitably, change, grow, become someone I could not yet imagine. "Never change."