Another month has passed, at least by my rough count of days scratched into the stone wall of our den. The air had grown hot and sticky, heavy with moisture that clung to my skin and made my linen shift stick uncomfortably to my body. Summer, I thought, recognizing the season from the oppressive heat, the way the sun lingered late in the sky, the sudden afternoon storms that rolled over the mountains.
I had been sleeping more, my body demanding rest in ways it never had before. I would sit by the loom and find my head nodding, my eyes drifting shut, the spindle falling from my fingers. I would wake hours later, disoriented, with no memory of lying down. And the cravings, fierce and specific, had taken hold of me. Fruits, especially the tart citrus that grew in the southern valleys, the ones that reminded me of oranges from my old life. I would eat three, four, five in a sitting, the juice running down my chin, my hands sticky and sweet, the craving only temporarily satisfied.
My moods had been unpredictable too, swinging from weeping sentimentality to sharp irritation and back again within the span of hours. I had snapped at Ravin over nothing yesterday, then cried in his arms for an hour, unable to explain why. He had held me, confused but patient, his hand stroking my hair as I sobbed into his chest.
I stopped counting the days and realized with a jolt that I was due for another period. But nothing had come. Not yesterday, not today. Two days late now. I had been late before, back in my old life, stress and travel throwing off my cycle. But in this new world, with sex as frequent and vigorous as it had been with both my mates, the possibility loomed large and terrifying.
If I was pregnant, there was little doubt who the father was. Leon and I had only finally consummated our bond one week ago. But Ravin and I had been lovers for months now, our couplings frequent and unprotected, his seed spilled inside me countless times. If life had taken root in my womb, it would be his. His cub. Our cub.
The thought made my hands shake. Was I ready for this? Truly ready? Not just for the pregnancy, but for birth in this world without doctors, without hospitals, without pain medication or ultrasounds or emergency C-sections. What if something went wrong? What if I was not built for this, my human body unable to handle beast blood growing inside it?
It was time for the evening meal when Ravin and Leon returned to our den, their arms laden with fresh game and gathered greens. I sat by the fire, my hands twisted in my lap, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Ravin," I said, my voice small, trembling. "How do you know if you are pregnant? Here, I mean. How do beast women know?"
He perked up instantly, his golden eyes sharpening, his ears swiveling toward me with predatory focus. He set down what he was working on and crossed to me in two strides, kneeling before me, his hands finding my knees. "Why? Do you feel different? Has something changed?"
"I have not gotten my cycle," I admitted, my face burning. "I am two days late. That has never happened before. Not since coming here."
Ravin’s brow furrowed, confusion clouding his features. "But is that not normal? Most females have their cycle two to four times a year. Having it every month is unusual, Krys. Is it because you’re an ape beast? Because your people are different. Are ape beasts truly so fertile that they cycle monthly?"
I swallowed hard. Well, that is because I’m human, I thought. Because I have menstrual cycles, not estrous cycles like your women. Because I am fertile twelve times a year, not two or four. But I could not say that. I could not explain that I was from another world entirely, that my biology was alien to this place.
"I guess we are," I lied, forcing a smile. "Different, I mean. But Ravin, if I am late, if something has changed, should I go check with the elder?"
"Yes," he said immediately, standing, his hand finding mine and pulling me up. "I will take you now. Leon, come. This concerns you too."
Both Ravin and Leon walked with me to the elder’s home, their bodies bracketing mine, protective and tense. The path was familiar now, but my feet felt heavy, each step weighted with possibility. The elder’s dwelling smelled the same as always, thick with medicinal herbs and smoke and age, the scent wrapping around me like a blanket.
"Elder," Ravin said, his voice carrying the authority of a prince but edged with something vulnerable, something hopeful. "My mate thinks she might be carrying. Can you check?"
The elder, ancient and aged with fur gone silver and eyes clouded with cataracts, had me sit on a low stone using as a stool. His hands, surprisingly warm and gentle, found my pulse first, his fingers pressing against my wrist with practiced precision. Then he touched the blue binding mark on my wrist.
It glowed. A soft, pulsing light that had never happened before, not in all the months I had worn this invisible tether to my mates. The mark shimmered with inner radiance, blue deepening to violet, then to a soft, warm gold.
At the same moment, Ravin snarled, his hand flying to his own throat, his eyes widening. I could not see it, but I knew, I could feel it through the bond we shared, the invisible ring around his neck constricting, tightening, responding to the new life in my womb, identifying him as the father, claiming him as protector.
Ravin growled, a low defensive sound rumbling from his chest, his body stepping closer to mine, his hand finding my shoulder, his eyes wild and fierce and terrified and joyful all at once.
The elder smiled, his weathered face breaking into lines of joy. "Peace, young prince. The bind constricts around the father’s neck when the mother’s body wishes to defend the womb, to protect the new life growing within. It is an ancient magic, older than our memory." He placed his palm gently against my stomach, his touch light, his expression distant, listening to something beyond hearing. "Your mate is indeed pregnant, my prince. And judging by your growl, by the bind’s response to your presence, this litter indeed does belongs to you, Prince Ravin. You are the father."
I sat stunned, my hand moving automatically to my stomach, pressing against the soft flesh there. A new feeling consumed me, overwhelming and terrifying and wondrous all at once. My baby. Ravin’s cub. Our cub, created from love and passion in this impossible world. He meant one right? Realizing he said litter.
"Congratulations, brother," Leon said, his voice thick with emotion. He clasped Ravin’s shoulder, his grip firm, his smile genuine despite the complicated wash of feelings I knew he must be experiencing. "You will be a father."
"Thanks," Ravin said, his voice rough, his eyes wet. He turned to Leon, his hand covering his brother’s. "You will have one of your own too. I am sure of it. Soon."
"I hope so," Leon smiled, but I saw the shadow in his eyes, the longing, the slight twist of pain he hid so well.
I did not want to burst their bubbles, either of them. I could not speak my fears aloud, not now, not with Ravin glowing with joy and Leon smiling so bravely at the prospect of fatherhood. I was not sure how this delivery would go. How many cubs I would actually have? What if I hated it? What if the pain was too much, the risk too great? What if I survived it and swore never to endure it again? But I could not say that. Not with Leon looking at me like I was the source of all hope, not with Ravin’s happiness so bright it hurt to look at.
Ravin grabbed me then, his arms banding around my waist, lifting me clean off the ground, hugging me fiercely against his chest. "I am so happy," he whispered, his voice breaking, his tears hot against my neck. "Our cubs. You are having our cubs. I cannot believe it. I am going to be a father. We are going to be parents."
"You are making me nauseous, Ravin," I giggled, though my own tears were falling now, wetting his mane. "Put me down before you squeeze the cub out." I looked at him, "There’s only one cub...right?" suddenly nervous again.
Ravin looked at me and smiled, "One or six, I’d be happy regardless."
"Let us go tell our parents," Leon said, his smile bright, his tail swaying with genuine happiness for his brother. "Mother will be ecstatic."
The walk back to the main den was dreamlike, my feet barely touching the ground, my hand resting on my belly that was still soft and round, no outward sign of the life growing within yet. But I could feel it now, somehow, a presence, a warmth, a connection that had not been there before.
Ravin was beside himself with excitement. He burst through the entrance to the main chamber, spotted his mother across the room, and ran to her. He picked Lisa up, his mother, the queen, and twirled her around in a circle, her feet flying out behind her, her shriek of surprise turning to laughter.
"Mother!" he roared, his voice carrying through the stone halls. "Krys is pregnant! Mother! She is carrying my litter!"
"Oh by the beast gods!" Lisa exclaimed, her hands flying to her face, tears immediately streaming down her cheeks. She hugged Ravin back fiercely, then pushed past him to me, gathering me in her arms, pressing her hands to my stomach, her joy radiant and overwhelming. "Congratulations, Krys!" she turned to her son, "Congratulation son. You are finally going to be a father. And I am going to be a grandmother!"
Raon turned from his council, his stern face softening into something approaching a smile. He crossed to me, his hand heavy on my shoulder, his eyes searching mine with surprising gentleness. "Congratulations, Krys," he said, his voice gruff but warm. "You have given my son the greatest gift. Our pride will have new blood. New life. Thank you."
I stood there, surrounded by their joy, their love, their hopes, and I placed my hand over my womb, over the tiny spark of life that was Ravin’s and mine. I was terrified, yes. Uncertain, absolutely. But in this moment, surrounded by family, by hope, by the promise of tomorrow, I allowed myself to believe that everything would be alright. That we would be alright.
Just as the Elder confirmed the glowing blue binding on my wrist, word arrived that Rina had discovered her own pregnancy. The timing struck me as almost impossibly unexpected, as though the spirits themselves had orchestrated this parallel journey. While I carried Ravin’s cub or cubs, Rina nurtured a litter within her womb, her body already beginning to round with the promise of multiple lives.
The first week of pregnancy transformed me into something feral and singularly obsessed. Boar meat consumed my thoughts from dawn until dusk, the craving erupting with such violent intensity that I could actually taste the iron rich tang of pork on my tongue before a single piece passed my lips. The mere mention of pig flesh sent saliva flooding my mouth, my stomach twisting with desperate hunger. I had never experienced such primal, all-consuming desire for a specific sustenance. My human life had never prepared me for how thoroughly pregnancy would hijack my senses.
Ravin recognized the urgency in my voice when I confessed the craving. Without hesitation, he gathered his weapons, a bone knife and a spear tipped with volcanic glass and pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. "I will return before the sun comes out," he promised, his golden eyes softening with determination. "Rest, my mate. Let Leon care for you while I am gone."
Leon, ever the stalwart guardian, remained behind while his brother ventured into the wilderness. Both of my mates transformed our modest dwelling into a sanctuary of comfort, fluffing pelts into nests of impossible softness, ensuring water stayed within arm’s reach, and watching me with such attentive devotion that I felt simultaneously cherished and slightly embarrassed by the fussing.
I found myself overwhelmed with gratitude for these males, for Ravin with his fierce protectiveness and Leon with his steady, unwavering presence. They anticipated needs I had not yet recognized, enduring my volatile mood swings without complaint. When the hormones surged and I snapped at them for breathing too loudly or moving too suddenly, they simply exchanged glances and adjusted their behavior, never once showing frustration or wounded pride. Their patience seemed infinite, their love unconditional and unshakable.
True to his word, Ravin returned as the sun climbed toward its midday peak, walking with ease with the weight of a massive boar draped across his broad shoulders. The animal was enormous, its tusks yellowed and curved like scythes, its hide bristling with coarse dark hair. Ravin had hunted with lethal efficiency, the boar’s throat cleanly severed, its death quick and merciful.
Without pausing to rest from his exertions, Ravin set to work preparing the feast my body demanded. He moved with practiced precision, skinning the animal with his bone knife in long, confident strokes, separating the valuable hide from the succulent meat beneath. The coppery scent of fresh blood filled our dwelling, mixing with the earthy aroma of the boar’s wild musk. He butchered the carcass with the expertise of countless hunts, selecting the most tender cuts, the loin, the haunches, the rich marbled sections near the flanks.
Leon built up the cooking fire while Ravin prepared the meat, the flames crackling and dancing as they waited for the coals to reach optimal heat. Ravin skewered thick steaks on greenwood spits, seasoning them simply with crushed salt crystals and wild herbs he had gathered during his return journey, aromatic sage and peppery mountain thyme.
When the meat finally touched my tongue, the explosion of flavor transcended mere sustenance. The exterior had developed a perfect char, caramelized and smoky, while the interior remained impossibly tender, juices running down my chin as I tore into it with my teeth. The pork was rich and gamey, dense with the flavor of the boar’s wild diet of roots and tubers and forest nuts. Each bite sent waves of pleasure radiating through my body, the protein and fat satisfying my hunger and demanding within my pregnant womb. I made sounds of pure ecstasy that bordered on indecent, my eyes rolling back as the nourishment flooded my system.
"Slowly, Krys," Ravin chuckled, though his eyes glowed with satisfaction at my enjoyment. "There is plenty. I hunted the largest boar I could find."
Between ravenous bites, I learned from the gossip circulating through the beast settlement that Rina had developed entirely different cravings. While I devoured cooked meat, she consumed hers raw, fresh kills still warm from the hunt, the blood still flowing. The other beasts whispered that she provided her unborn litter with the purest, most primal nutrition possible, uncooked and unadulterated by fire.
The knowledge sent a flutter of anxiety through my chest. I paused mid bite, the succulent meat suddenly feeling heavy in my stomach. "Do I have to eat raw meat?" I asked, my voice small and uncertain. The thought alone made my stomach turn, my human sensibilities recoiling from the idea of tearing into still warm flesh, blood running down my chin. "Is that what our cub needs to be strong?"
Ravin must have sensed the worry radiating from me like heat from a flame. He moved instantly, gathering me into his arms, his skin warm against my cheek as he pressed me against his chest. His embrace was sanctuary itself, strong enough to ward away any danger, gentle enough to cradle the most fragile hope.
"No," he murmured against my hair, his voice a soothing rumble that vibrated through his chest into my body. "You do not need to. Our litter would be strong no matter what, cooked or raw, boar or berries, your love is what truly nourishes them." He pulled back slightly, his golden eyes capturing mine with fierce sincerity. "You just enjoy whatever you want to eat, my beautiful mate. Both Leon and I will make it our priority to ensure you get it. If you crave honey from the highest trees, we will climb. If you desire fish from the deepest pools, we will dive. Your comfort and happiness are what matter."
"Yes," Leon added, moving closer to join the embrace, he pressed against my other side. "I will definitely do my best. Both Ravin and I." His amber eyes burned with solemn promise. "Whatever you need, whenever you need it. Day or night, rain or shine. You carry our future, Krys. The least we can do is ensure you never want for anything."
Sandwiched between their warmth, their devotion a tangible force surrounding me like armor, I felt the anxiety melt away. I did not need to conform to beast customs or force myself to consume raw flesh. My mates would accept whatever form my pregnancy took, whatever cravings struck, whatever mood swings plagued me. I was loved, not conditionally, not transactionally, but with a depth and ferocity that spanned worlds and defied death itself.
I took another bite of the perfectly cooked boar, chewing slowly now, savoring rather than devouring. Through the den’s opening, I could see the settlement bustling with life, beast women heavy with child, children playing in the dirt, hunters returning with their catches. And somewhere out there, Rina was experiencing her own parallel journey, her own cravings, her own mate fussing over her needs.
I reached out, taking Ravin’s hand in one of mine and Leon’s in the other, squeezing gently. "Thank you," I whispered, the words inadequate but heartfelt. "Both of you. For everything."
"Always," they answered in unison, the word a vow that echoed through my soul.
---
The afternoon light filtered through the woven grass walls of our den, casting dappled golden patterns across the earthen floor. My mates had settled me into the most comfortable position imaginable, a nest of soft furs and cushions that cradled my body with gentle support. Leon sat to my left, his hand resting possessively on my thigh, while Ravin remained to my right, his golden hair tickling my shoulder, his muscular body radiating comforting warmth as his tail draped heavily across my legs.
"Tell us more about your people," Leon rumbled, his voice like distant thunder. "The ape beasts... you have said little of their customs, their ways."
I paused, considering how to explain the vast chasm of difference between my former life and my current reality without revealing the truth.
"In my tribe, pregnancy was... different. More supported." I chose my words with care, framing everything as beast customs. "Our females had... helpers. Wise females who acted as midwives, like your Elders but dedicated only to birth. They would guide the mother, telling her when to breathe, when to push. If the cub was positioned wrong, they would use their hands on the mother’s belly to turn the cub, moving it into the proper place for safe delivery."
Ravin shifted, his golden mane brushing against my shoulder as he frowned. "They touched the belly? Used no magic?"
"No magic," I confirmed. "Only knowledge. Only skill learned through study and practice. These midwives... they were like doctors, healers who specialized in birth. But not all births were joyful. Some females feared pregnancy. Saw it as burden. There were ways to... prevent it. To stop it from happening even after it began."
Both males stiffened, their bodies going rigid with horror. Leon’s claws extended involuntarily, digging into the furs beneath us. "Your people killed their unborn young?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Not all," I said quickly. "But yes. Some did. It was... complicated. Fear, poverty, danger, shame. My tribe was not always kind to mothers. Not like yours."
Ravin pulled me closer, his grip almost desperate. "Never," he vowed, his voice fierce and raw. "Never will you fear such things here. Never will you want for protection or provision. Our litter will be welcomed with joy and celebration, surrounded by love from the moment of conception until long after we have all returned to the earth."
Leon nodded solemnly, his mane bristling with emotion. "The entire settlement already prepares for the birth. The females gather gifts, the hunters pledge to keep our storage overflowing, the Elders prepare blessings and ceremonies. Our litter will want for nothing, Krys. Neither will you."
I felt tears prick my eyes at their devotion, at the stark contrast between the isolation of my previous existence and the overwhelming community support I now enjoyed. In my old life, I had been alone. Cheated on, betrayed, fallen to my death with no one to mourn me. Here, I was the center of a web of love so strong it could have caught me from three stories up and cradled me safely to the ground.