We broke the surface of the sea in a spray of salt and foam. Caelion was the last to emerge, his tail splitting, reforming, the scales receding into pale skin as he gasped and shuddered through the change. I reached for him, my hand finding his shoulder, anchoring him as the magic completed and he collapsed onto the wet sand.
The journey back to dry land was silent, heavy with the weight of what we had left behind. Caelion walked beside me, his eyes fixed on the horizon, his jaw tight with emotions he would not voice. I watched him, my heart aching for the boy who had never been wanted, who had learned to be strong because no one else would be strong for him.
I stopped walking and turned to face him, my hands cupping his cheeks, forcing him to look at me. "Listen to me," I said, my voice fierce. "Regardless of how your parents are to you, regardless of what they failed to give you, I do not see you as any less than what you are. You are my love. My mate. My chosen family. They do not define your worth. I do. And I say you are precious."
His eyes filled, the pale blue swimming with tears he had been taught never to shed. He smiled then, small and broken but real. "I am sorry," he whispered. "For their behavior. For bringing you into that."
"You have nothing to apologize for," I said, and I kissed him, salt on his lips, salt on mine, the sea between us and the past behind us.
We traveled until evening, the sun bleeding out across the sky in strokes of orange and violet. We made camp in a clearing surrounded by birch trees, their white bark glowing like ghosts in the twilight. The cubs were exhausted, collapsing into piles of fur and limbs before we even had the fire built.
I sighed, settling onto my bedroll with Levara nursing at my breast. "I will tell you a story from my old world. It is called... The Three Little Pigs."
"Three little what?" Atlas asked, his ears perking.
"Pigs," I said. "Small, pink animals. Like... like fat little boars but friendlier."
"And what happened to them?" Ryder asked, snuggling closer.
I launched into the tale, the three brothers building their houses, the big bad wolf coming to blow them down. But I had barely reached the part where the wolf huffed and puffed when Leon interrupted.
"Wait," he said, his face scrunched in confusion. "The wolf blew the house down? With his breath?"
"Yes," I said. "He huffed and he puffed."
"That is impossible," Veylan said, sitting up from where he had been sharpening his claws. "I am quite strong. I cannot blow down a house. I cannot even blow down a tent."
"It is a story," I said. "It is not meant to be literal."
"But how?" Aureon asked, abandoning his knot-tying. "The physics do not make sense. The force required to collapse a structure with breath alone would require lung capacity far beyond any beast’s capabilities."
"It is a children’s story," I repeated, my voice rising. "About working hard and building strong foundations."
"So the first pig was lazy?" Ravin asked, his brow furrowed. "And that is why he died?"
"He did not die," I said. "He ran to his brother’s house."
"Which was also inadequate," Leon observed. "Since the wolf blew that one down too."
"Only because it was made of sticks," I said, my patience fraying. "The third pig built his of brick."
"Brick like stones? But isn’t it heavy?" Soryn asked, his tail twitching. "How did a little pig carry brick?"
"He... he..." I threw my hands up. "I do not know! He just did! It is a story!"
"Stories should have internal logic," Veylan said primly.
"The moral," I said, my voice cracking, "is that hard work pays off and you should not take shortcuts."
"So the wolf is a metaphor for life’s hardships?" Aureon asked.
"Yes!"
"And the breath?" Leon pressed. "What is that a metaphor for?"
"It is just... it is just..." I buried my face in my hands. "It is a wolf who blows hard. That is all. There is no deeper meaning."
"I could blow harder than that wolf," Soryn said, sitting up straighter. "Watch."
He took a massive breath, his chest expanding, his cheeks puffing out, and blew a stream of air toward the fire. The flames flickered. A leaf moved slightly.
"Pathetic," Leon said.
"I was not trying my hardest," Soryn protested.
"You were trying your hardest," Aureon said, not looking up from his knots. "I have seen stronger gusts from Levara’s sneezes."
"She is a baby," Soryn said, indignant. "She has powerful lungs."
"She is one month old," I said, my voice hollow with defeat. "She cannot out-breathe you."
"Challenge accepted," Soryn muttered.
I threw a piece of dried meat at him. "Go to sleep. All of you. Before I tell you about the girl who fell down a rabbit hole and you try to figure out the geological impossibilities."
"Rabbits do not dig holes that deep," Veylan started.
I threw another piece of dry meat. Harder.
We slept that night, or tried to, the ground hard and the air cold, but we were together, and that was enough.
The next morning dawned grey and misty, the fog rolling through the trees like a living thing. We packed quickly, eager to be home, to be safe, to be surrounded by walls we knew.
We continued walking, the path muddy from the thaw, our boots sinking into earth that was slowly waking from its frozen sleep. The cubs were heavy in my arms, Levara sleeping against my chest, the older ones running ahead to chase birds and poke at interesting rocks. My mates surrounded us in a loose formation, ever vigilant, their eyes scanning the tree line for threats that might emerge from the mist.
A shadow passed overhead, swift and silent, and I felt it before I saw it. That familiar rush of air, the displacement of wind that spoke of wings. Déjà vu slammed into me like a physical blow, memory of another hawk, another time, another threat. I did not think. I scooped Levara against me with one arm, grabbed Niku and Sikai with the other, and dropped to my knees, curling my body around them like a shield.
"Down!" I screamed.
Ravin and Leon were beside me in an instant, their bodies blocking the cubs, their claws extended. My other four mates; Aureon, Veylan, Caelion, and Soryn, spun to face the threat, their postures aggressive, their teeth bared, ready to tear the sky itself apart to protect us.
But the hawk did not attack.
It circled once, twice, and then it began to descend. The air around it shimmered, bent, and then the wings folded, the feathers melted, the beak softened into a nose. A figure dropped the last few feet to the earth, landing with the grace of someone who had done this a thousand times.
I looked up, still shielding my cubs, and my breath caught.
"Alara?"
The hawk princess straightened, her hair the color of autumn leaves, copper and gold and burnt orange, cropped short and tousled against her face. Her eyes were amber, large and intelligent, framed by dark lashes that caught the light. They were bright with amusement as she looked at us, but there was something different about her. Something that had not been there before. Her hand rested on her belly, on the pronounced curve that spoke of advanced pregnancy.
"Hello, Krys," she said, her voice carrying the familiar lilt of the sky people. "Wow. What a surprise. To see you the moment winter starts to thaw." She smiled, her gaze traveling over my group, counting, assessing. "I was flying looking for food when I noticed you and your mates down here. I see there are two more now."
I did not hesitate. I shoved Levara into Leon’s hands; I heard his grunt of surprise and I rushed toward Alara. I threw my arms around her, crushing her against me, holding her like we were old friends, like we had known each other for years.
She stiffened, surprised by the embrace, but then her arms came up, tentative at first, then firm. She hugged me back.
"How are you?" I asked when I finally pulled back, my hands finding hers, squeezing. "I see you are heavy with your own offspring."
She blushed, a delicate pink spreading across her bronze cheeks. "Ah yes... I am pregnant."
My heart leaped. "With Aleric?"
Her expression shuttered, something hard and painful moving behind her eyes. "Sadly, no. He refused me." She breathed out, a long exhale that carried years of disappointment. "A female who was injured, with her mate, had come through our territory. The moment he laid eyes on her, like with you, he was head over heels. He wanted her."
I felt my stomach drop, a cold certainty forming in my chest.
"But I no longer want him," Alara continued, her chin lifting, her pride evident. "I decided I am too proud to be with someone who does not love me. I am pregnant with another sky beast. An eagle beast man." She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. "He is kind. He is devoted. He wants me."
I almost missed it. The words were casual, thrown away, but they landed like stones in my mind. A female and a wounded mate. A lion beast female? A cheetah?
"Alara," I said carefully, my voice dropping. "Not to bring any bad memory... was the female that came through your territory a lion beast female? And her mate... was he a cheetah?"
She looked at me, surprised, her eyes widening. "Yes. How do you know?"
I gripped her hands tighter, my heart hammering against my ribs. "She is bad news. Is she still in your tribe?"
"Yes," Alara said slowly, confusion creasing her brow. "She is currently pregnant as well. She became mate with two of our hawk beast men. And with Aleric being the sky lord now, she has a high standing." Alara’s voice turned bitter, the old wound still fresh. "Why? Do you know her?"
"Her name is Rina," I said, the name tasting like poison. "Be very wary of her. Be very careful. Do not cross her. She is evil. She will do everything in her power to hurt you, to use you, to climb over anyone who stands in her way."
Alara’s face paled. She looked at her belly, at the life growing there, and I saw fear dawn in her golden eyes. "I... I will heed your warning."
"I worry for you," I said, my voice urgent. "Now that I know Rina is in your tribe. If you are okay with it... you and your mate can come live in our tribe. We will protect you. We will keep you safe."
Alara looked touched, her eyes swimming with emotion. She squeezed my hands back, her grip trembling. "I cannot leave my father. He is Aleric’s advisor. I cannot abandon him." She smiled, sad but resolute. "But I really appreciate you. The offer. The kindness. I will be careful. I promise."
I studied her face, searching for any sign of doubt, any crack in her armor. But she was strong, this hawk princess. Stronger than she knew.
I squeezed her hand one last time. "Okay. You are welcome anytime. Please. Come to me if you feel in danger. If you need to escape. My tribe will always have a place for you."
"I will," she whispered.
We bid our farewells then, the formal words of the sky people, wishes for safe winds and strong wings. She shifted back into her hawk form, her belly heavy but her wings still powerful, and she rose into the grey sky, circling once before she vanished into the clouds.
I stood there for a long moment, watching the empty sky, my heart heavy with foreboding.
Rina. In the hawk tribe. Pregnant. She now have backing from the sky beast.
The war we had prepared for might be coming sooner than we thought, maybe after her pregnancy, but pregnancy or not, Rina isn’t one to let bygones be bygones.
I turned back to my mates, to my cubs, to the family that needed me whole and present. "Let’s go home," I said. "Quickly."
The cubs were restless, whining and fidgeting, ready to be surrounded by familiar walls, ready to sleep in their own furs. We walked faster, the shadows lengthening behind us, the threat of Rina like a cold wind at our backs.
Home. We’d be home in another day. And we will prepare for whatever hell she has prepared.