The feast began as the winter sun bled gold and crimson across a sky heavy with snow, the last light filtering through the smoke holes in the roof of Lisa and Raon’s great hall. Outside, the wind howled and snow fell in thick blankets, turning the world white and silent, but inside, the fires burned high and hot, filling the vast space with warmth and light and the rich scents of celebration.
Our tribe had spent three days preparing for this, roasting whole beasts on spits over the central fire pits, bringing out preserved fruits and winter stores to display in woven baskets. I had taught them the fermentation methods from my old world, and now the air itself seemed to hum with the sweet potency of honey wine and grape wine, the drinks I had introduced to Askalda bubbling in clay vessels near the flames and making the head spin with their strength. Heavy furs draped every surface, and the long tables, hewn from ancient wood and running the length of the hall, groaned under the weight of venison and smoked fish, of vegetables glazed with animal fat and herbs, of everything we had created to show our new allies that we were a people worth knowing, worth trusting, worth bonding with.
The tiger beast men filled the warm space with their presence, their white and orange fur looking almost appropriate against the winter backdrop, their movements fluid and predatory even in celebration. The tiger beast men filled the warm space with their presence, having shifted to their man forms before entering, their skin marked with the orange and black stripes of their tribe and some white and black. They moved differently than our lions, quieter, more deliberate, every step calculated. Where my mates strode with open power, these tigers prowled, watching, assessing, their golden eyes missing nothing as steam rose from their heated bodies into the cold air of the hall.
It was joyful, at first.
Children ran between legs, both ours and theirs, the barrier of stranger melting away under the shared language of play. I sat on a raised platform draped with the thickest furs, my belly round and heavy with Leon’s cub, watching the celebration with contentment. My mates surrounded me. Ravin to my right, Leon to my left, Caelion and Soryn and Veylan forming a protective semicircle behind. The cubs played at our feet, their golden bodies wrestling and tumbling on the warm furs, occasionally shaking off the snow that had melted from their fur when they had briefly ventured outside.
Then he approached.
I saw him first as a shape moving through the crowd, taller than most, white hair catching the firelight like spun moonlight. He moved with that same predatory grace as his kin, but there was something else there, an energy, a bounce in his step that spoke of youth and restlessness and barely contained enthusiasm. He wore fewer furs than the others, as if the cold meant nothing to him, his chest partially exposed despite the winter chill.
From the expression on Leon’s face, a darkening of his features, a tightening of his jaw that I had come to know too well, I understood who this was before he ever reached us.
Aureon.
The tiger chief’s son.
He was handsome. I had to give him that, even as I felt Leon’s hand find mine and squeeze with warning pressure. Boyish charm radiated from him like heat from a stone, inappropriate for the season but undeniable. His white hair fell past his shoulders, stark against the white and black stripes that marked his cheeks, his arms, the exposed skin of his chest where his winter tunic hung open. He was tall. Ravin had told me he was only eighteen, but standing before us he rivaled my second Mate in height, broad shouldered and lean muscled and carrying himself with the absolute certainty of a male who had never been told no.
His smile was cute. Dangerously so. The kind of smile that knew it was cute and used that knowledge like a weapon.
"Hello." He stopped before our platform, and the words tumbled from him in a rush, as if he had been holding his breath and could finally release it. "I’m Aureon. You’re a very beautiful female. Are you Ravin and Leon’s mate? Would you like another one?"
I blinked.
I opened my mouth to answer the first question, to perhaps offer some polite greeting in return, but he stood there waiting for nothing, his golden eyes bright and expectant, already moving on to the next thought before I could form words.
"She’s not interested, tiger cub."
Leon was between us before I could draw breath to speak, his massive frame blocking Aureon’s view of me, his shadow falling across the younger male like a threat. The air temperature seemed to drop despite the roaring fires. I could feel the rumble in Leon’s chest, the vibration of a growl he was barely restraining.
Aureon stood his ground.
He did not step back. He did not lower his gaze. He met Leon’s eyes, my mate’s eyes that were dark with protective fury, his frame that could break trees, his aura that made seasoned warriors tremble, and Aureon looked at him with nothing more than curious confusion.
"Why not?" he asked, as if Leon had spoken nonsense. "Females can have multiple partners. Some have more than ten. She only has five of you. There should be room for someone like me."
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hate him for his presumption or praise him for his absolute fearlessness. Leon was not small. Leon was not gentle, except with me. Leon in this moment was giving off an intimidation so thick it seemed to warp the air around him, and Aureon acted as if he didn’t even notice. He might have been speaking to a child about the weather for all the concern he showed.
"Enough."
Ravin’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. He moved between them, his hand coming up to press against Leon’s chest, holding his brother back with gentle but firm pressure. "Enough, brother."
"But Ravin."
"Prince Aureon." Ravin’s voice shifted, taking on that tone he used for diplomacy, the one that could calm a storm or start a war depending on his intent. "My mate is tired. She is very much pregnant." He gestured to my belly, round and obvious under my winter furs. "Not long now she will have another litter. She is not interested in another mate. Find someone else."
I watched Aureon’s face, waiting for understanding to dawn, for disappointment, for the graceful withdrawal of a male who had been rejected.
Instead, he smiled wider.
"I can wait," he said simply. "I’m in no hurry. Father already gave me his blessing. I can mate when I find the one I want to bond myself with." He turned to me then, that boyish smile fixed firmly in place, and I saw for the first time the stubbornness beneath the charm, the steel will that had been hidden under layers of pampered entitlement. "I’ll see you again. Good day, female."
He turned and walked away, his white hair swaying with each step, his stride unconcerned, as if he had not just been dismissed by the princes of the Pride, as if Leon’s murderous glare was merely a pleasant breeze at his back.
At our feet, the cubs had stopped playing. They stood in a small cluster of golden fur, their hackles raised, their lips pulled back from tiny teeth in growls that were surprisingly fierce for creatures so small. Aureon noticed, of course he noticed, he missed nothing, and he turned his head as he passed, flashing them that same bright smile, waving his fingers at them in a gesture that was somehow both playful and mocking.
"I see now what you mean," I breathed, watching him disappear into the crowd of his kin.
"What do you mean?" Leon asked, his voice still rough with suppressed aggression. Ravin looked at me too, waiting, his hand still resting on Leon’s chest as if ready to hold him back again.
I continued, my eyes on the space where Aureon had vanished, my hand finding my belly where Leon’s cub stirred as if sensing my unease. "He’s a lot to handle."
After the confrontation, the celebration resumed its rhythm, the voices grew louder and the wine flowing freer as if everyone collectively decided to ignore the tension that had sparked between our platform and the tiger prince. The fires roared higher, casting dancing shadows against the stone walls, and the air grew thick with the mingled scents of roasted meat and fermented honey.
I watched from my nest of furs as Ravin moved through the crowd, his golden hair gleaming in the firelight as he join his father Raon and his mother Lisa who was speaking with the tiger tribe’s leader, a scarred male with white hair streaked with black and eyes that held the weight of many winters. This was Aureon’s uncle, the chief’s brother, a male who clearly commanded respect even among his own pride. I saw him gesture sharply at Aureon more than once, his expression stern, his words lost to the noise but his meaning clear from the way Aureon would shrug and smile that infuriating smile.
Several females had begun circling, drawn by the prince’s status and his undeniable beauty despite his youth. I watched them approach with bold eyes and swaying hips, offering him cups of wine, laughing at words I could not hear, trying to catch his attention with the subtle language of courtship. A red-haired female from our own tribe touched his arm, leaning close to speak into his ear. A dark-skinned beauty from the tiger delegation tried to intercept him as he moved through the crowd.
Each time, Aureon would be polite. He would smile, accept the wine, exchange words. But his eyes, those golden tiger eyes, kept drifting back to me.
It happened during the third round of toasts, when the hall was at its warmest and the laughter at its loudest. Aureon stood near the central fire, surrounded by a small cluster of hopeful females, his uncle having just finished another lecture that involved sharp gestures toward the door. The prince drained his cup, set it down with deliberate care, and then raised his voice above the noise.
"I have my eyes on her."
The words cut through the celebration like a blade. Heads turned. Conversations stuttered. The female beside him, mid-sentence, went silent with her mouth still open.
Aureon pointed. Directly at me. His finger unwavering, his gaze locked on mine across the distance.
"But I am patient," he continued, loud enough that his voice echoed in the sudden quiet, bright and cheerful as if he were discussing the weather. "I can wait until she gives birth to her new litter. No rush. Good things come to those who wait, after all."
My mouth fell open. My eyes went wide, staring at him across the firelit space, unable to process the absolute audacity of this male who had just announced to an entire hall of allies and strangers that he was waiting for me to finish being pregnant so he could... what? Court me? Bond with me? did he expect me to say yes? The thought was absurd and terrifying and somehow, infuriatingly, flattering all at once.
Aureon saw my expression and smiled. That same boyish, dimpled, weaponized smile that said he knew exactly what he was doing and was enjoying every moment of it. He even winked.
The growl that came from my left was low and dangerous, vibrating through the platform. Leon’s hands were fisting in the furs, his claws extended, his face flushed with a fury that had nothing to do with the heat of the hall. "I am going to kill him," he announced, very calmly, very seriously. "I am going to rip out his throat and use his pelt as a rug."
"Not in our home," Ravin said from my right, his voice tight with controlled rage. "Not while we’re trying to form an alliance we must keep calm..." But my dear Ravin...you look everything but calm.
"Tomorrow," Soryn hissed, his serpent form coiling tighter around the platform post, his eyes fixed on Aureon with predatory intensity, "I am going to have words with that cub."
"Words," Caelion repeated, his hands clenching, "are not what I want to have with him."
Veylan said nothing. He simply stared, his silver eyes glowing with a wolf’s patience, the kind of patience that said he was memorizing every detail for later retribution.
I looked at my five mates, each one radiating aggression and possessiveness and outrage on my behalf, and then I looked back at Aureon, who was now accepting congratulations from his uncle with the air of a male who had just won a great victory.
I buried my face in my hands and groaned.
"He is going to be a problem," I muttered.
"A problem," Leon agreed, his arm sliding around my waist to pull me close, "that I am going to solve. Permanently."
"Not permanently," Ravin corrected, though his arm also found my shoulders, claiming me in front of the entire hall. "Just... a warning. A very thorough warning."
From across the room, Aureon raised his cup in a mock toast, his smile bright as the winter moon, and I knew with absolute certainty that this was only the beginning.
The tiger cub had declared war. And he was smiling.