The spindle moved smoothly in my hands, the motion so familiar now that I barely needed to watch what I was doing. The wool transformed effortlessly into fine, even thread beneath my fingers; a skill I had honed over countless hours since making my first cloth in this world. My hands, once trained for nursing work, for the weight of a patient’s limb and the texture of sterile gauze, had adapted to this rhythmic dance of fiber and wood. I could spin yarn in my sleep now, could probably do it blindfolded.
I was lifting the spindle for another round of threading when a shadow fell across my work. Leon’s large hands closed over the wooden shaft, gently but firmly removing it from my grasp.
"You need to rest," he rumbled, his golden eyes soft with concern but his tone brooking no argument. "You are pregnant, Krys."
I looked up at him, at the worry etched into every line of his handsome face and felt the familiar cocktail of gratitude and irritation surge through my chest. "I am pregnant, Leon," I sighed, the exhalation heavy with exasperation. "Not crippled."
"Still," he insisted, setting the spindle aside as though it were a dangerous weapon rather than a harmless tool. "During these times you should be resting, saving your strength for when you give birth to the cubs."
I opened my mouth to argue further; to point out that beast women from where I am from work until literally two weeks before they go into labor, that my body craved movement, that the inactivity was driving me slowly mad, but the words died unspoken. Because beneath my frustration, I knew his concern came from love.
I really did appreciate the coddling and the support they gave me. The way Ravin would wake before dawn to ensure my favorite fruits were waiting when I stirred. The way Leon would fluff my sleeping furs for the tenth time, searching for nonexistent lumps. The way both of them would trade off hunting animal for my cravings or fanning me when the heat made me dizzy.
But god, it was suffocating.
"I will rest," I promised, though my fingers itched to reclaim the spindle, to do something with my hands, my mind, my energy. "But only if we can go for a walk later. I need air, Leon. I need to move before I forget how."
He studied my face for a long moment, reading the desperation there, and finally relented with a rumbling chuckle. "A walk, then. Ravin and I will take you to the river. The cool water will soothe your ankles."
And so I found myself several hours later at the river stream, my swollen feet dipped in the cool, clear water, surrounded by Rhonda and Layla. Their mates; Layla’s five and Rhonda’s two; patrolled the perimeter alongside my own two, securing the premises while maintaining a respectful distance. Layla’s belly rounded with pregnancy with her fifth mate a leopard beast and was further along than mine; they did not understand my loneliness or the need to stay active, so used to their way of resting. But they were willing to enjoy the outings with me, which I really appreciated.
Our mates sat nearby on the grassy bank, nine males in total, close enough to respond to any danger but far enough to grant us the illusion of privacy. I could see Ravin’s golden mane catching the sunlight as he conversed with one of Rhonda’s mates, could hear Leon’s deep rumble as he laughed at some joke with two of Layla’s males. They were attentive but restrained, giving us this small space of bonding.
"How are you feeling, Krys, being pregnant?" Layla asked, her hand resting on her own large bump. She was a wolf beast, her ears twitching with genuine curiosity, her tail swishing gently in the grass behind her.
I leaned back on my elbows, letting the sun warm my face, the water cool my feet. "Honestly," I admitted, "it still feels surreal. And I do not feel too much different right now. Just always sleepy. Like I could nap for days and still need more rest."
"Have you had cravings yet?" Rhonda asked, her face scrunching in amusement. "I would eat an entire basket of berries when I am pregnant."
"I had cravings for boar the other day," I told them, smiling at the memory of Ravin coming home with that massive animal across his shoulders. "Ravin caught it for me. Spent all morning hunting, then prepared it himself."
"Oh, boar sounds good," Layla said with a grin, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "My mate brought me fish, but I wanted—"
"Layla are you ready to go—"
The arrow took him in the throat.
One of Layla’s mates; the one who had been standing guard nearest the tree line; gurgled, blood fountaining from his mouth as he clawed at the shaft protruding from his neck. His eyes wide, confused, terrified; found Layla’s for a heartbeat before he collapsed sideways into the stream.
The water turned red.
Layla’s scream shattered the air, a high, piercing sound of absolute anguish that seemed to tear something vital from her chest. She lunged toward him, but Rhonda grabbed her, holding her back as chaos erupted around us.
Figures burst from the tree line, dozens of them, cheetahs in various forms of transformation. Some remained in their human shapes, lean and tawny-skinned with spotted markings visible along their arms and shoulders, wielding clubs and spears with deadly precision. Others had fully shifted, their beast forms sleek and terrifying; golden fur rippling over corded muscle, claws extended, fangs bared as they lunged toward our mates with snarling fury.
They descended upon us in a coordinated wave, the human-formed cheetahs throwing volleys of arrows and javelins while their fully shifted kin tore into our defenders with tooth and claw. The peaceful afternoon dissolved into a nightmare of snarling beasts and clashing violence, the air filling with the copper scent of blood and the deafening roar of combat.
I saw one of Rhonda’s mates take a spear to the shoulder, the blade punching through flesh and muscle, sending him sprawling with a roar of pain. Rhonda shrieked, struggling against Layla’s grip, her eyes wild with terror for her injured male.
"Krys!" Leon’s roar cut through the din, and I saw him, saw his black fur bristling, his claws extended, his face twisted with desperate rage as he tried to fight toward me. But three enemy beasts intercepted him, driving him back with coordinated attacks, and though he roared and slashed, they would not give him an opening. Would not let him pass.
"Run!" Ravin bellowed from somewhere to my left, his voice strained with effort. "Krys, run!"
I ran.
My body, tired from exhaustion, clumsy and slow; refused to obey the commands of my terror. I stumbled to my feet, my ankles screaming, my center of gravity all wrong, and lurched toward the tree line. Behind me, I heard Layla wailing, heard Rhonda shrieking, heard the wet sounds of combat, heard my mates roaring my name, but I did not look back. I could not. Looking back meant death.
Branches whipped my face, tore at my arms and legs as I plunged into the forest. I ran blindly, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my heart hammering against my ribs with such force I thought it might burst free. The undergrowth caught at my feet, and I fell, scraping my palms on bark, my knees on stone, but I scrambled up and kept moving. Behind me, I heard pursuit; heavy footsteps, panting breath, the snap of twigs under running paws.
He was gaining.
I could hear him now, close enough that I could smell his scent; wolf, musky and male, somewhat familiar from gatherings and shared meals. One of Rina’s mates, I realized with sick horror.
Rina, who had hated me from the moment I arrived, who saw me as the interloper who had stolen the males she had set her sights on. She had plotted against me for months, already losing two of her mates when she sent them to attack me the last time. They had failed, died at Leon’s claws, and yet her hatred had only festered. Now she had sent another mate to finish what her dead ones had started, lying in wait to capture me while my own mates were distracted by the ambush.
My lungs burned. My legs shook. My babies in my belly seemed to protest the jostling, a sharp cramp making me gasp and stumble. But terror drove me onward, terror and the primal instinct to survive, to protect the life within me at any cost.
The trees thinned. The ground sloped upward. I burst from the forest line and skidded to a halt, my momentum carrying me dangerously close to the edge before I caught myself.
Dead end.
The waterfall roared before me, a sheer cliff of rock dropping fifty feet into churning white water below. Mist sprayed my face, cool and mocking. I looked left, right, but the cliff walls rose sheer on either side, unclimbable, offering no escape.
I turned.
The wolf stood at the tree line, his grey fur bristling, his teeth bared in a predatory grin. He advanced slowly, savoring my terror, his claws clicking on the stone. "No where to run, little female," he taunted, his voice a gravelly growl. "My mate wants you dead, and I’m here to make sure that happens."
I backed toward the cliff edge, my heels sending loose pebbles tumbling into the void. The water roared below, hungry and indifferent. I could jump; I might survive the fall, might not. Or I could let him kill me and get it over with, but I didn’t want to die, I finally found happiness with Ravin and Leon.
The wolf lunged.
I dodged sideways, my body moving on pure instinct, and felt his claws graze my arm, tearing fabric and skin. I spun, off-balance, my arms windmilling, and felt my heel slip on the wet stone.
For a moment, I hung suspended, my eyes meeting the wolf’s; surprised, furious, as gravity claimed me.
Then I was falling.
The waterfall engulfed me, a crushing weight of white water and thunderous noise. I tumbled, spinning, the world reduced to foam and chaos and the endless roar of descent. The cliff face rushed past, a blur of grey and green. My lungs screamed for air. My arms flailed, seeking purchase, finding none.
As the churning pool at the base of the falls rushed up to meet me, a single thought crystallized through the panic, through the terror, through the desperate, disbelieving realization that this was happening again.
Shit, I thought, the word oddly calm in the chaos. Was this how I die? Again? How will Ravin and Leon cope without me? No...please I don’t want to die.
---
I stirred, consciousness returning slowly through layers of cold and confusion. My body felt surprisingly comfortable, cradled in something that molded to my curves with impossible precision, yet I was cold. Insanely cold. The kind of cold that sank into bone marrow and made teeth ache. Was I dead? Was this the afterlife?
"Are you awake, female?"
The voice slid through the darkness like silk over steel. Unfamiliar. Deep. Resonant with an accent I could not place.
I opened my eyes.
Scales. Emerald and obsidian, shimmering with an oily iridescence. They surrounded me, wrapped my body in concentric circles of living armor. My heart seized. Every childhood nightmare surged to the surface in a devastating wave.
I forced my gaze upward, following the muscular coils to their source.
He was staring at me with unblinking, vertical-pupiled eyes the color of emerald. His forked tongue darted out, tasting the air, and I could see the heat in his gaze, the possession, the dark fascination.
I screamed.
"Snake!"
I thrashed against his coils, panic overriding every rational thought.
He hissed; not angry, but amused. Patronizing.
"Stop yelling, female." His voice dropped lower, intimate, curling around my senses. "You will harm yourself."
I went rigid. The ground beneath me was hard stone, cold and damp, but his coils had created a nest, elevating me slightly from the freezing surface. We were in a cavern behind the waterfall, the thunder of the falls deafening just beyond.
"Please let me go..." The words came out as a whimper. "I’m pregnant."
The coils tightened fractionally; not painful, but possessive. His emerald eyes dilated as his gaze dropped to my stomach.
"You are very pretty," he murmured. "So you have mates already."
"Yes," I gasped. "I have two. So please... please let me go."
"Two?" He repeated the number as though tasting something foul. His head tilted, considering. "That will not do." A pause, heavy with menace. "I should kill them, then? Make you mine instead?"
I paled. The blood drained from my face so suddenly that spots danced in my vision. "No... please. They’re my mates. I love them."
"We could kill the litter when they are born," he continued casually, as though discussing the weather, "and I will give you a clutch of my young instead."
I turned green. The nausea rose in my throat, bitter and burning. "Let me go," I choked out, tears streaming down my face. "I’m scared of snakes. I won’t bond with you. I can’t."
"But I saved you." The coils shifted, drawing me closer to his face, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his scales, could smell the musk of him; dark, earthy, hypnotic in its intensity. "If I had not been here, you would have shattered on the rocks below. I plunged into those churning waters. Pulled you from the foam." His tongue flickered against my cheek, tasting my tears. "More than that; I gave you something precious. My venom."
I stared at him, confusion cutting through terror.
"When I found you, you were not breathing," he said, his voice softer now, almost reverent. "Your heart had stopped. Your skin was blue. Even your litter had grown still within you." His emerald eyes burned into mine, unblinking and intense. "I used my venom. The one that heals instead of killing. A secret of my clan, known to few. Our venom carries two attributes: death and life. I use life. I bit you carefully, precisely, and sent the healing venom into your heart to restart it. To force air into your lungs. I saved your litter in the process, although I did not have to."
He paused, his tongue flickering, tasting my fear.
"But the healing venom creates a bond," he continued, each word heavy with weight. "A connection between healer and healed. Without the mating bond to anchor it, to complete the circuit, the venom will eventually turn toxic. It will poison you from within. Kill you both within a moon cycle." His hand rose, cupping my cheek with impossible gentleness even as his words destroyed me. "I did not plan this, female. I merely saw you falling, saw you die, and you were far too beautiful to simply let perish. So I acted on instinct. But now... now we are bound. Whether either of us wills it or not."
I went still. "What?"
"I saved your life, yes. But I also tied your life to mine." He leaned closer, his breath hot against my face, smelling of something wild and intoxicating. "It is not merely custom that demands you become my mate, female. It is survival. The venom requires the mating bond to stabilize. Without it, you will die. Your litter will die."
He shifted. The movement was fluid, impossible, the coils rearranging themselves with muscular grace. When I opened my eyes; when had I closed them? I was cradled in arms. Human arms, strong and warm, though I could still feel the scales pressing against my back, the reminder of what he truly was.
I looked up.
And gasped.
The face above mine was devastatingly beautiful. Inhumanly so. Emerald eyes that glowed with their own inner light, framed by lashes thick and dark. Hair the color of new leaves in spring, wild and tangled, falling around his shoulders like a verdant cloak. High cheekbones, a sharp jawline, lips that curved in a smile that held no warmth; only hunger. Possession. Dark, obsessive intent.
His upper body was entirely human; broad shoulders corded with muscle, chest sculpted and bare, skin pale and perfect. But below... below, the scales began at his waist, flowing seamlessly into the serpentine form that had terrified me moments before.
"You feel much better in my arms," he purred, his voice resonating through my chest, vibrating against my ribs. "Then when I embraced you with my whole body. Though I prefer you wrapped in my coils. You fit so perfectly there. As though you were made for me."
I looked up at him, at the vulnerability now mixed with darkness in his gaze. "You’re saying I have to become your mate or die?"
"More or less," he murmured, his hand trailing up and down my stomach where my cub lay, making me shiver. "But the bond alone will not fight the toxin. I must complete it. I must..." His eyes held mine, unblinking and intense. "Put my seed inside you. Only then will the venom fully stabilize and remove the toxin from your body completely."
I stiffened, horror flooding through me.
"You may wait," he continued, his thumb brushing my lower lip with terrifying intimacy. "But the next moon cycle is in three days. After that, the venom turns lethal. The choice was taken from both of us the moment I breathed life back into you." His grip tightened. "But I will not pretend this displeases me. I have been alone for a very long time, female. My clan is dead. My territory stolen. I have nothing. Except now, perhaps, I have you."
"I have two mates already," I whispered. "I promised..."
"And you can keep them," he said, something almost desperate flickering in his eyes. "I will not demand exclusivity. I am not cruel, whatever you think of snakes. But I must be bonded to you. For your survival. For mine."
"But just a moment ago, you wanted to kill my mates," I pointed out, my voice shaking. "Even my cubs."
He went still, something like shame crossing his beautiful features. "I spoke from jealousy," he admitted quietly. "From years of having nothing, no one. But if it means being with you as true mates... if you will accept me..." His hand cupped my cheek, surprisingly gentle. "Then I can accept that you had two mates before me. I will not harm them. I swear it on my clan’s memory."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And perhaps... perhaps I can offer something in return. Protection. The cheetahs who attacked you; they are my enemies too. They drove me from my lands. Together, with your lions and my venom, we could defeat them. Protect your tribe. Your litter."
I stared at him, the pieces clicking into place. He wasn’t just threatening; he was offering an alliance. Protection against the cheetahs. A cure for the venom binding us. Survival for my cub.
"Can I consult with my mates?" I asked, my voice trembling.
He studied me for a long moment, those unblinking eyes reading every micro-expression, every flicker of fear and hope. Finally, he nodded. "Fine. But tell them the truth, female. Tell them that without the bond, you die. Tell them that with the bond, you gain an ally who can save your tribe from the cheetahs." His smile was terrifying and beautiful. "Tell them that I am not asking to replace them. Only to join them. To protect what is mine. What is theirs. What is ours."
He lifted me against his chest, his serpentine lower body propelling us upward with fluid, hypnotic grace. I closed my eyes, tears leaking from beneath my lashes, and thought of Ravin. Of Leon. Of the life we had been building.
And I wondered if they would accept a snake into our bond to save my life. Or if they would rather watch me die.