Winter was approaching.
The air had shifted, carrying the crisp bite of coming frost in its teeth. The leaves had turned from green to gold to brown, falling like rain to carpet the forest floor. And with the change of seasons came the urgent work of preparation, of hoarding against the cold months when game would be scarce and the world would sleep beneath snow.
We smoked and dried more meat for storage, the fires burning day and night in the smokehouse behind the main hall. I taught the other females the methods I knew, showing them how to salt and cure, how to layer the strips of venison and boar in careful rows where the smoke could reach them. The smell permeated everything; woodsmoke and blood and the rich tang of preservation. Aging meat for consumption later, when the rivers froze and the herds migrated south, a technique they had never seen before but now embraced eagerly.
Ravin was leaving.
He went on another delegation with Raon, but this time Leon would accompany him as well. The two of them stood in the yard before dawn, packs slung across their backs, their breath misting in the cold air. I watched them from the doorway, my arms wrapped around myself against the chill, my heart already aching with their absence.
I still had three mates with me; Soryn, Caelion, and Veylan. But the house would feel emptier without Ravin’s booming voice, without Leon’s laughter and his protective presence.
Veylan had softened considerably in the weeks since we had truly become bonded. He moved through the house with more confidence now, no longer skulking at the edges of rooms, no longer waiting for permission to speak. He voiced his opinions, offered suggestions for the household, even argued with Soryn about the proper way to stack firewood. The change was subtle but profound, a flower slowly turning toward sunlight after years in shadow.
The children understood something was happening.
They gathered around Ravin and Leon, their small bodies pressing against their fathers’ legs, their golden ears flattened back in distress. Atlas butted his head against Ravin’s hand, his lower lip trembling. Chase grabbed Leon’s ankle with both small hands, insistent, as if he could physically prevent him from leaving. Their tails swished anxiously behind them, the lion-like appendages betraying their emotions.
"No go," Jasper said clearly, his cherub face scrunched up in worry. "Dada no go."
Ravin knelt, his massive frame folding down to their level. He gathered them close, burying his face in their soft hair. They were warm, their toddler bodies fragile in his arms, their beast ears tickling his cheeks. "I have to, my loves. But I’ll come back. I always come back."
"Pwomise?" Ryder asked, his voice small, his golden eyes wide and wet.
"I promise," Ravin said, and his voice cracked slightly.
Leon looked at me, his golden eyes filled with conflict. He didn’t want to go. I could see it in every line of his body, the way he held back, the way his hand kept straying to my belly where his cubs grew. Especially now, when I was carrying his litter, he wanted to be near me, to protect me, to witness every moment.
But this delegation would take longer than the last. Weeks, perhaps months. They were traveling to the tiger tribe toward the west, a journey of many days through dangerous territory. The goal was to form an alliance, to exchange goods and promises, to strengthen our position against the cheetahs who still lurked at our borders.
I knew I would miss my mates terribly. The home would feel too large without Ravin’s massive frame, too quiet without Leon’s breathing. But it was for the good of the tribe. For our family’s safety. For the future we were trying to build.
I walked to them, the children parting to let me through, and kissed Ravin first, then Leon. I tasted the salt of their skin, smelled the leather of their packs, memorized the feel of them.
"Come back to me," I whispered.
"Always," they promised.
And then they were gone, disappearing into the gray dawn, leaving me with three mates, four cubs with golden ears and swishing tails still practicing how to shift, and the long winter ahead.
---
I stretched out on the lounge chair Leon had crafted for me from wood and bamboo, another of his thoughtful gifts that had become my sanctuary. The afternoon sun warmed my face as I nibbled on dried meat strips, watching the chaos unfold before me like a theater performance I had front row seats to.
The first week without Ravin and Leon had been... an adjustment.
The morning ritual alone was enough to drive my remaining three mates to the brink of insanity. Teeth brushing with salt paste had become an Olympic event, with four toddling beasts running in opposite directions, their golden ears flattened, their tails puffed up in indignation. Caelion had emerged from that particular battle covered in salt paste from head to toe, looking like he had been attacked by a very enthusiastic baker.
The evening baths were worse. The cubs had discovered that splashing was not just fun but an art form, and my poor mates were the unwilling canvas. Veylan had actually shifted to his wolf form one night, apparently deciding that if he couldn’t beat them, he would join them in the water. He had emerged shivering, his silver fur plastered to his body, while the cubs rode on his back like he was some kind of aquatic steed.
And the nighttime wrestling... I had never seen three grown males so thoroughly defeated by creatures who weighed less than a sack of grain.
But now, in the golden afternoon light, I had achieved the ultimate maternal victory.
I had stopped moving entirely.
I sat there, perfectly still, munching my dried meat, while Soryn, Caelion, and Veylan chased, corralled, and negotiated with four tiny tornadoes of chaos. Atlas had decided he was not, under any circumstances, going to sleep. The poor boy missed Daddy Ravin with an intensity that broke my heart, and he expressed this grief by sitting at the door and letting out the most pitiful mewling sounds, his golden ears drooping, his tail wrapped around his small body.
"Mama," he would say between mews, looking at me with those amber eyes. "Dada?"
"He’ll be back, baby," I called out, not moving from my chair. "Come here and let daddy Soryn brush your fur."
"No," Atlas declared, and went back to his vigil.
Meanwhile, Chase had apparently made it his mission in life to evade Caelion. The merman would reach out, his fingers grasping, and Chase would dart away with a speed that defied his chubby legs, his tail streaming behind him like a banner of victory. He would hide under furniture, behind curtains, once even inside a cooking pot that was far too small for him, his golden eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Chase," Caelion begged, his voice worn thin. "Please. Just five minutes of stillness. That’s all I ask."
Chase’s response was to bite his ankle and run away giggling.
Ryder had decided that Veylan was his personal chew toy. Every time the wolf approached, Ryder would wait until he was just in range, then launch himself at Veylan’s hand, teeth sinking in with surprising ferocity for something so small. Veylan had taken to wrapping his hands in strips of softened bark, the fibrous material protecting his fingers from Ryder’s enthusiastic teeth which Ryder found absolutely hilarious. He would grab the bark and shake his head back and forth, growling with delight, while Veylan tried to extract his hand without launching the cub across the room.
It was exhausting just watching them. And I was loving every minute of it.
I stared down at Jasper, who had given up on the chaos entirely. The lazy prince had found the ultimate hiding spot; directly underneath my lounge chair. He was curled up on the cool stone, his golden ears twitching occasionally, his tail wrapped around his nose, fast asleep and utterly content.
I wondered how long it would take the three frantic males to notice one of their charges was missing.
It was Soryn who noticed first, of course. Jasper was his favorite, his little shadow, the cub who would curl up on his coils and sleep for hours while Soryn slept or meditated. The serpent had a soft spot for the lazy one that bordered on ridiculous.
Soryn coiled upright, his serpent eyes scanning the room. "Where’s Jasper?" he asked, his voice calm at first.
Caelion looked up from under the table where he had been trying to extract Chase. "Isn’t he with you?"
"I thought he was with you," Veylan said, shaking Ryder off his bark covered hand for the fifteenth time.
Soryn’s head whipped around, his eyes widening. "Where’s Jasper?"
The panic began to set in. Soryn slithered faster than I had ever seen him move, his usually composed demeanor shattered. He checked behind curtains, under blankets, inside cabinets that were far too small to contain a cub.
"Jasper?" His voice rose. "Jasper!"
Caelion and Veylan joined the search, their own charges temporarily forgotten. Chase took this opportunity to climb onto the table and start eating my dried meat strips. Ryder found a new target in Caelion’s hair, which was currently accessible as the merman bent to look under furniture.
"Jasper, where are you?" Soryn was frantic now, his pale face actually losing color, his hands trembling as he lifted cushions and looked in increasingly impossible places. "He’s not here. He’s not anywhere. Did someone leave the door open? Did he get out? Oh gods, what if he’s in the well? What if—"
I didn’t say anything. I just watched that my lips twitching as I fought to keep my expression neutral.
The color drained from Soryn’s face completely. He looked at me, his eyes wide with terror. "Krys, I can’t find him. I looked everywhere. He’s gone. He’s—"
I pointed under my chair.
Soryn froze. He slithered over slowly, his movements hesitant, as if afraid of what he might find. He peered under the lounge chair, and the transformation was instantaneous. The panic melted, the tension drained from his body, and he let out a sigh so profound it seemed to come from his toes.
"There you are, little one," he whispered, his voice thick with relief. He reached under and extracted the sleeping Jasper, cradling him against his chest. "Let’s go to bed, my lazy prince. Let’s leave the chaos to the others."
Jasper didn’t even wake up. He simply shifted in Soryn’s arms, his golden ears twitching, and let out a small snore.
You could tell all the anxiety Soryn had been holding released in that moment. His shoulders dropped, his breathing evened out, and he pressed a kiss to Jasper’s fuzzy head with such tenderness that my heart ached.
I looked around at my family; at Caelion finally catching Chase and tickling him until he shrieked with laughter, at Veylan sitting on the floor with Ryder chewing his barked covered finger, at Soryn cradling his sleeping favorite, at Atlas still waiting faithfully by the door. I missed my lion mates. The house was too quiet without Ravin’s booming voice, too still without Leon’s restless energy. I worried about them, out there in the cold and the danger, traveling to lands I had never seen. But I thought for now, we will be alright. I hoped they were safe too.