Tonight was Leon’s night, and my second mate looked very excited indeed.
Leon had gone to bathe in the stream, and I had done the same, washing away the day’s exhaustion in warm water. Now I sat on the edge of his bed; the bed we now shared on rotation; and wondered if my days would always be this busy. Last night with Ravin had been gentle, tender, the kind of slow lovemaking that spoke of deep devotion and careful consideration for my pregnant body. But still, it had been sex. My body still felt the pleasant ache of it, the lingering fullness, the memory of his hands and mouth and cock working me into sweet oblivion.
Would Leon demand the same tonight? And Soryn tomorrow? Would I ever actually get rest?
I sighed, running a hand over my rounded belly. It would not be fair to give myself to Ravin but deny the others. If I chose to abstain with one, I must abstain with all. That was the agreement, unspoken but understood. Fairness. Equality. No favorites, even in the bedroom.
So I supposed I had two more days of sex ahead of me. Then I would tell Ravin I needed rest, needed recovery, needed a night where sleep was the only thing on the agenda.
The door opened.
Leon stepped through, and my breath caught in my throat.
He was fresh from the stream, his large frame filling the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly brushing the frame on either side. His black hair was wet, slicked back from his forehead, droplets of water tracing paths down his sculpted chest, gathering in the valleys of his defined abs, continuing lower to where a makeshift loincloth I had sewn for him wrapped his hips. The fabric did nothing to hide his arousal, the thick outline pressing insistently against the cloth.
My mouth went dry. I was definitely blessed. That these beautiful, powerful men wanted me; me, with my soft belly and stretch marks and swollen breasts; still seemed impossible.
In my old life, I had been invisible. A plus size woman in a world that worshipped thin beauty, barely getting glances from men who preferred model sized arm candy. Those fickle men would never have flaunted a big girl like me, would never have claimed me publicly. Hyunwoo was no exception. At first, he had loved my size, had me move with him to South Korea, and when we first started dating he said he did not mind showing me off and telling people we were dating. I was happy then. But when some of his friends mentioned my size, he started to feel self-conscious and embarrassed. He wanted me to lose weight, said it was humiliating when all his friends’ girlfriends were slim and I was not. He would never have looked at me with the hunger I saw in Leon’s dark eyes now. The memory of that loneliness, that rejection, still made me bitter even now.
Warm breath ghosted over my neck, startling me from my thoughts.
"What are you thinking about, Krys?" Leon murmured, his voice a low velvet purr that vibrated through my entire body. "You’re hurting my feelings, drifting away like that. Am I not interesting enough to hold your attention?"
If I had not been horny before, I definitely was now. My whole body hummed with sudden, desperate need, my core clenching with emptiness that only he could fill.
I turned to face him, tilting my head back to meet his gaze. "I was just thinking about how lucky I am," I said honestly. "To have you three as my mates. Back where I am from... the men do not like women who look like me. Not openly. They would never take someone like me as a mate. They would hide us in shadows, ashamed."
Leon growled, the sound rumbling from his chest. "They are blind," he said, his hand coming up to cup my cheek, his thumb tracing my lower lip. "Fools. You are perfect. Every curve, every soft inch of you." His eyes darkened, burning with intensity that made my stomach flip. "It takes every ounce of my control not to take you every day, Krys. Not to sink into that warm, wet heat between your thighs. To feel your tight little cunt squeezing my cock like a vise, milking me, begging me to fill you with my seed."
Fuck.
He really knew how to make a girl blush. And ache. And want.
He started kissing me then, his mouth hot and demanding against mine, his tongue pushing past my lips to taste and claim. I moaned into the kiss, my hands moving of their own accord, reaching for the loincloth at his hips and pulling it free.
His cock sprang free, thick and heavy and already weeping with arousal. I wrapped my hand around the heated length of him, marveling at the velvet over steel texture, the way he pulsed against my palm.
Leon hissed against my mouth, his hips bucking involuntarily into my grip. "By the Beast Gods, Krys," he groaned, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. "Your hand feels like heaven. But I need more. I need to be inside you. Now."
He did not wait for permission. With a growl of pure, primal need, he lifted me onto the bed, arranging me on my back with careful hands, his big body covering mine completely but braced on his elbows to keep his weight off my belly. He kissed his way down my throat, my chest, sucking my nipples into his mouth until I was arching off the bed, begging wordlessly for more.
Then he was there, positioning himself at my entrance, the broad head of his cock nudging against my slick folds. He entered me slowly, inch by inch, filling me so completely that I cried out, my nails raking down his back, my legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper.
"Are you alright?" he groaned, his voice strained, his dark eyes locked on mine. "The cub... I am not hurting you?"
"Yes," I gasped, arching into him. "You’re fine. We’re fine. Don’t stop."
Leon began to move, his hips rolling against mine with powerful, rhythmic strokes that drove the breath from my lungs. He was intense, relentless in his need, but I noticed how he kept his thrusts controlled, how he watched my face for any sign of discomfort, how he adjusted his angle to avoid pressing too deep.
He shifted slightly, sliding a pillow beneath my hips to raise them, finding an angle that was safer, more comfortable for my changing body, yet still overcoming in its pleasure. The bed creaked beneath us, the sound of our bodies meeting filling the room, wet and obscene and perfect.
"You feel so good," he groaned, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. "So hot. So tight. Taking me so deep, Krys. Taking all of me."
I could only moan in response, lost in the sensation of him, the stretch, the fullness, the delicious friction of his cock dragging against my inner walls. He moved faster, but shallower, his hand sliding between us to rub tight circles against my clit, pushing me higher.
"Leon," I gasped, my body trembling beneath him. "I’m close. I’m so close. Please, don’t stop."
He fucked me harder, still mindful of his depth, his fingers working my clit with desperate precision. I came with a scream that I’m sure my other mates could probably hear, my body convulsing around him, my inner muscles clamping down on his thrusting cock in rhythmic waves of ecstasy.
The sensation triggered his own release. With a roar that seemed to shake the room, Leon buried himself to the hilt one final time, his cock pulsing, hot and thick, as he spilled inside me in endless, claiming jets, his body trembling with the effort of holding still, of not pounding too deep.
We collapsed together, tangled and sweaty and panting, his weight a comforting blanket I never wanted to lose, both of us mindful of the precious life between us.
"Perfect," he whispered against my hair, pressing kisses to my temple. "You are perfect, Krys. Everything about you."
And as I drifted to sleep in his arms, sated and sore and utterly content, his hand resting protectively over my belly where my cubs grew, I thought that maybe; just maybe; he was right. I was beautiful to them; I was perfect for them.
---
The next day, as the sun climbed into a sky washed clean of morning clouds, another frantic beast came hammering at our door. This time, all three of my mates were home; Ravin sharpening tools by the fire, Leon carving new utensils, Soryn coiled in the corner reading the medicinal texts I had begun to compile.
The man who burst through our doorway was unrecognizable from whatever composed creature he had once been. He was pale, his brown fur matted and standing on end with terror, his bear-like frame trembling with desperation. His eyes were wild, red rimmed, his claws scoring the stone floor as he stumbled forward.
"Please," he gasped, his voice cracking like dry earth. "Healer... my mate... she is going into labor, but the baby will not come out. It has already been a full day. She is exhausted. She is... she is dying."
The words hit me like a physical blow. A full day. In labor for twenty four hours. I knew what that meant. I knew the statistics from my old life, the dangers of prolonged labor, the risk of hemorrhage, of infection, of death.
"My mate is tired," Leon said immediately, stepping between me and the frantic father. His voice was firm, protective. "Go find the Elder. He is the designated healer for our village."
The man collapsed to his knees, his face crumpling with despair. "Please," he sobbed, his forehead pressing to the stone floor in abject supplication. "The Elder says I should just wait. That nature will take its course. But I cannot... this is her first litter. She is so young. She is suffering. Please."
"Still," Ravin began, his hand finding my shoulder, his voice carrying the weight of his concern, "my mate is also pregnant. The stress, the exertion—"
"I will go."
The words cut through the air like a blade. I stepped forward, my heart hammering against my ribs, my hand unconsciously moving to cover my own rounded belly. Three pairs of eyes swiveled to me; Leon shocked, Ravin worried, Soryn unreadable but tense.
"Krys," Ravin said softly, his grip on my shoulder tightening. "You do not have to. This is not your obligation. You are not responsible for every birth in this village."
"I know," I said, meeting his golden eyes, then Leon’s, then Soryn’s. "But how can I let a female suffer during these times? How can I let her suffer when I might be able to help?" I rubbed my belly unconsciously, feeling the flutter of life within. "I would want someone to tell me it is okay. I would want someone to help me too, when it is my turn."
Silence fell, heavy and charged. Then, slowly, Ravin nodded. "We will come with you."
The run to their den was the longest of my life. Every step jolted my pregnant body; every breath burned my lungs. When we arrived, the smell hit me first; blood, thick and coppery, and something else, something wrong.
She was lying on a bed of furs, her fur matted and dull, her breathing shallow and rapid. The blood... there was so much blood. It pooled beneath her, soaked the furs, painted her hindquarters in crimson. Her eyes were closed, her jaw slack, her strength deserting her with every passing moment.
"How long since she last pushed?" I demanded, dropping to my knees beside her, my training taking over, my own fear locked away in a box I could not afford to open.
"Hours," the father whispered, hovering at the edge of the room, helpless and terrified. "She has not the strength anymore."
I lifted her fur, examined her, and my stomach dropped. A foot. Small, perfect, and entirely wrong. The cub was breech, trapped, and the mother was hemorrhaging.
"Leon," I snapped, my voice sharp with command. "The supplies. Now."
He moved with startling speed, remembering everything from Layla’s delivery; the clean cloths, the boiled water, the bone hook, the herbs to stem bleeding. He had them ready before I could ask, arranging them with precision that spoke of his attention, his care, his love.
I worked fast. There was no time for gentleness, no time for hesitation. I pushed my hand into her opening, feeling for the other foot, praying to any god who would listen. There. Not far. Thank god, thank god. I found purchase, gripped, and pulled.
The mother screamed, a sound of pure agony that seemed to tear something vital from her throat. Her body convulsed, and I felt her gather her last reserves of strength to push.
"Push!" I commanded. "Push now!"
She bore down, her face purple with effort, and I pulled, guided, wrestled life from death’s grip. The cub slid into my hands in a rush of fluid and blood; perfectly plump, perfectly formed, a little male bear cub who squalled with indignation at his rough entrance into the world.
But there was no time to celebrate. Another shape pressed against my still inserted hand. A second cub. I guided it, turned it, pulled again, and a female emerged, just as plump, just as perfect, just as furious.
Two cubs. Two lives. And the mother, bleeding, barely breathing, but alive.
This birthing had been easier than Layla’s in some ways; quicker, the presentation simpler to correct. But the blood loss... the blood loss terrified me.
I worked quickly, efficiently, clearing their airways with my finger, rubbing their chests until they gasped and squalled. I turned to the mother then, my hands moving to her still bleeding opening, applying firm pressure with clean cloths to stem the hemorrhage. I packed the area with healing herbs that would encourage clotting, praying they would work fast enough. The bleeding slowed, then stopped, and I finally allowed myself to breathe.
I cleaned the cubs as best I could with shaking hands, and placed them on their mother’s chest, hoping the contact would stimulate her, would give her reason to fight.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, her eyes fluttering open to see her children. "Thank you."
"Congratulations," I told her, my own voice hoarse, tears tracking down my face. "You have a son and a daughter. Beautiful, perfect cubs."
I tried to stand. My legs betrayed me, strength fleeing like water through a strain. The room spun, gray creeping at the edges of my vision.
Strong arms caught me before I could fall. Ravin, his face grim, his jaw tight with emotion he would not voice. "Let’s go home," he said, his voice gruffer than usual, rough with fear and relief and something else; pride, perhaps, or love or maybe anger? I wasn’t sure.
I nodded, unable to speak, my body trembling with exhaustion, my hands stained with blood and birth, my heart heavy with the weight of what I had witnessed, what I had done.
Ravin lifted me into his arms, cradling me against his chest as my strength finally gave out completely. The bear father trailed beside us, his face still pale with shock and gratitude, clutching his newborns to his chest with trembling hands. "Thank you, healer," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You saved my cubs. You saved my mate."
Leon and Soryn flanked us, protective and silent, their presence a wall of safety around me as we made our way home. I thanked whatever gods existed that I had been there, that I had known what to do, that I had been able to deliver those cubs safely into the world. I leaned into Ravin’s warmth, grateful, so grateful, that I had not been alone. That I had helped. That another female would live to see her cubs grow.
I was happy, even if it cost me every ounce of strength I possessed.