The news arrived on the wind before the delegation did.
I was in the garden, coaxing the last of the winter root vegetables from the stubborn earth, when I heard the first shout from the village edge. The words were distant, distorted by the breeze, but I caught enough to make my heart stutter in my chest.
Returning. The delegation has returned home.
I dropped the digging stone. I think I may have dropped it on my foot, but I felt nothing, already moving, already running with a speed that belied my pregnant belly and the extra weight I carried. The cubs sensed my urgency and tumbled after me, their golden bodies weaving between my legs in a chaotic pattern that should have sent me sprawling, their excited yips piercing the air and joining the rising chorus of the village.
Behind me, I heard the swift footsteps of my three mates. Caelion moved with the fluid grace of water, his hands hovering near my elbows as if ready to catch me should I stumble. Soryn slithered with surprising speed, his man form from hip up grabbing my arm while his serpent lower half cut through the grass like a blade, his eyes fixed on the path ahead to warn me of roots or stones. And Veylan, my wolf, loped at my heels, his silver eyes sharp and watchful, his presence a steady guard against any who might knock into me in the excitement.
They did not try to stop me. They did not tell me to slow down, to be careful, to remember the life I carried. They simply traveled behind me and beside me, a living wall of concern, making sure I was safe, making sure I did not trip, making sure I reached what I was running toward without harm.
By the time I reached the main path, the crowd had gathered. Every eye was turned toward the tree line, toward the trail that led from the distant territories, from the lands of ice and politics and danger. My hands found my stomach, cradling the new life there, and I realized I was holding my breath.
Then I saw them.
Two golden shapes, moving fast, breaking from the tree line at a sprint that scattered the birds from the branches. They did not walk with the dignity of royals. They did not maintain the careful pace of diplomats. They ran like men possessed, like men who had been gone too long from everything they loved.
Leon reached me first, his black hair flying wild, his face thinner than I remembered, lined with exhaustion and sunburn and something that looked like fear finally releasing its grip. He did not stop. He crashed into me, his arms wrapping around my waist, his face burying itself in my neck, and he was shaking, actually shaking, his whole massive frame trembling against mine.
"You’re safe," he gasped, the words muffled against my skin. "You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re here, you’re—"
I was crying. I could feel the tears hot on my cheeks, could feel them soaking into his tunic, could feel the salt mixing with the dust of travel and the smell of him, that wild lion scent that I had dreamed about every night since he left. "I should be saying that to you," I choked out, my hands fisting in his hair. "Leon, I was so worried. I was so—"
Then Ravin was there, his presence a wall of warmth at my back, his arms encircling both of us, crushing us together in an embrace that drove the air from my lungs. He said nothing. My First Mate, my lion, my Ravin who always had words for every occasion, simply held us and shook and breathed, his face pressed to the junction of my neck and shoulder where he could feel my pulse, where he could confirm I was alive.
"I missed you," I whispered, turning my head to press a kiss to his jaw, his cheek, anywhere I could reach. "I missed you both so much. Every day. Every night."
Ravin made a sound, low and broken, and pulled back just enough to look at me. His golden eyes were wet, rimmed with red, and he looked older somehow, as if the weeks away had aged him years. "Never again," he said, his voice rough as gravel. "I’m never leaving you again. They can find another representative. They can—"
"Shh," I said, touching his face, his beautiful, travel-worn face. "You’re here now. That’s all that matters. Besides, it’s your duty as the next in line." I smiled. Knowing very well that this wasn’t going to be the last time one or both of them leave for the goodness of the tribe.
I became aware of the rest of the delegation then, filtering into the village behind my mates, their faces showing their own relief at being home. And in the corner of my vision, I saw them; Hendrick and Fern, breaking from the group at their own sprint, their eyes finding Rhonda in the crowd. She stood with Darius, her hand on her belly, and then they were embracing, the three of them tangled together with the same desperate joy I had felt moments before.
The village erupted in celebration. Fires were stoked. Food was brought. Voices rose in welcoming the delegation. But I heard none of it clearly. I was too busy touching my mates, verifying them, counting their fingers, just making sure my mates are really here and I’m not dreaming.
It was not until we were back in our dwelling, the door closed against the celebrating village, that I could truly breathe. The cubs had launched themselves at their fathers with squeals of recognition, and Ravin and Leon sat on the floor, buried in golden fluff, each cub demanding attention, each one being held and inspected and loved with a ferocity that spoke of nights spent wondering if they would ever see this again.
I settled onto the furs across from them, my hands wrapped around a cup of hot broth that Caelion had pressed into my hands before tactfully withdrawing to give us some time to bond after weeks of not seeing each other. Soryn and Veylan had done the same, melting into the background with understanding smiles.
"Tell us," Ravin said, not looking up from where he was nuzzling Atlas’s soft head. "Tell us everything."
So I did.
I told them about the wind storm, about Veylan’s hunt through the snow, about the hide that still warmed my bed. I told them about Jasper’s fever, about the panic, about the healing tide rising to save him. I told them about the villagers coming after, the line of sick cubs, the exhaustion and the practice and the slow mastery of the gift.
"You healed them all?" Leon asked, his dark eyes wide with pride and worry in equal measure. "Are you sure no one saw your powers?"
"Yes, I was very careful. With Soryn’s help," I amended. "And Caelion’s. And Veylan’s. It took all of us. But yes. I healed them."
Ravin reached across the space between us and took my hand, his thumb tracing over my knuckles with a tenderness that made my throat tight. "You’re remarkable," he said simply. "You know that? Every day we’re gone, you become more."
"Tell me about the tiger tribe," I said, squeezing his hand. "Tell me where you’ve been."
They exchanged glances, and something passed between them, some silent communication that spoke of shared burdens and difficult negotiations.
"The Tiger Tribe," Leon began, his lip curling slightly, "lives beyond the mountain passes, in lands that burn hot as summer for most of the year. Jungles thick with vines, air so heavy and wet you could drink it, rivers that steam under the sun. They’re... different from us. They claim descent from the first beasts, which I highly doubt it. And they are powerful. I mean we are too, but they aren’t someone we can take lightly."
"But," Ravin added, his expression grim, "we traveled there during their winter season. The cold there... it was much like it is right now in our tribe, or village, Kyr. The steam froze on the leaves. The rivers grew still and hard. They were suffering, unprepared for such a season, and desperate for alliances that might bring them through the hard months."
"They were considering joining the alliance," Ravin continued, his voice taking on the measured tone of diplomacy. "But they wanted to see our strength first. Our... stability."
"Did they?" I asked.
Ravin’s smile was sharp. "They did. They saw enough to agree. But they sent representatives back with us. To observe. To learn our ways."
"To make sure we’re worth forming an alliance with," Leon muttered.
"How many?" I asked.
"A dozen warriors," Ravin said. "And..." He hesitated. "And the chief’s younger son. Aureon."
Something in his tone made me pause. "And?"
"He’s here to find a mate," Leon said flatly. "The chief wants alliances through blood, not just treaties. And his youngest son is... available."
"Available," I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"Unmated," Ravin clarified. "And looking to pledge himself. The chief made it very clear that his youngest son seeks a female of appropriate standing to serve. To bond himself to for life." He looked at me, his eyes careful. "The tigers are a good ally, Kyr. If you would like another mate, a tiger is a good candidate."
I shook my head and looked at my selfless lion mate. He knew the customs of this world and would not stop me if I did decide to seek another. "Are you saying you would not mind me having another mate?" I asked him.
"If it meant your safety, I have no reason to deny you the safety us beast men are supposed to provide," he said simply. "It is our nature."
I grabbed his hand and squeezed. "I am content with you five," I told him. "I do not want another."
"You should stay clear of him," Leon interrupted, his voice harder than I had ever heard it. "He’s spoiled, Kyr. Arrogant. He walked into our camp on the first day and started speaking of which females he might deign to accept his pledge. As if he were the prize to be won, not the servant offering devotion." Leon’s lip curled with disgust. "He looks at you and sees... opportunity. Not sacredness. He thinks because he is a prince, you will surely want him in your circle."
"It is because he is still young, Leon," Ravin said quietly, his eyes on Jasper’s sleeping form. "He just turned eighteen. The chief has catered to his feelings greatly since he is his only surviving son. So does his mother. She lost her three other cubs a few years back, taken in an invasion from the stonehorn tribe." Ravin’s voice softened with genuine sympathy. "She is later in her years now and unable to bear more. So they are very doting on this last son, perhaps too much. They have given him everything he ever wanted, and now..." He looked at me, his expression troubled. "Now he thinks he can simply choose any female he desires, that his status as prince makes him worthy of the best. He does not yet understand that worth is earned through service, not blood."
"I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The sound burst from me, rich and genuine, filling the space between us. "You do not like him very much, do you, Leon?"
"He is not mature enough to find a mate," Leon said, his expression softening as he looked at me. "I feel that in a few years’ time, finding a mate will be better for him. His mindset is not fit for our tribe, especially not for you." He gestured vaguely, encompassing the room, the cubs, the life we had built. "He does not see that we are already enough. That you have already chosen." Leon paused, his jaw tightening. "And I feel that he only has interest in you because Ravin and I are the princes of our tribe. He believes a female who is mated to us is worthy of him. Not that you are worthy in your own right, but that your connection to us elevates you in his eyes."
Ravin lifted Jasper, then Chase, holding them both against his chest with the ease of long practice. "He does not matter," he said firmly. "What matters is that we are home. That you are safe. That our cubs are growing."
Leon reached for Ryder and Atlas, pulling them into his lap, burying his face in their fur. "I missed you," he whispered to them, and I saw his shoulders shake. "I missed you every day."
I watched them, my lion mates, my warriors, my heart, holding our children with the reverence of men who had been away far too long and returned to find everything they loved still waiting. The tiger prince could wait. The politics could wait. The blooming blessing, the healing tide, all of it could wait. For now, in this moment, we were whole again.