"What?" Torian repeated, his bright blue eyes darting between his four brothers.

The White Tiger Alpha’s massive hands remained planted on the stone balustrade, entirely oblivious to the unspoken Warlord technicality he had just trampled over. "We are a pack. They are all of ours."

Kaelen let out a long, freezing sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Zarek simply rolled his golden eyes, the Dragon King entirely refusing to dignify the Tiger’s collective claiming with a response, especially since Torian’s own biological daughter had spent the entire tournament strictly benched on a velvet cushion.

Syris merely offered a condescending, velvety chuckle, while Caspian shook his head, his bioluminescent scales flashing with deep amusement.

Before Torian could demand an explanation for their synchronised glares, the final horn of the Vanguard Youth Showcase echoed across the sprawling, sun-drenched stadium.

The sound signaled the absolute, undeniable victory of the Iron-Wood Manor. Down in the sandy arena, standing amidst the fading mist of Zale’s water dragons, the pups gathered in the center of the ring.

Axel and Onyx, still in their magnificent wolf forms, stepped forward. The twin pups threw their massive heads back toward the spring sky and unleashed a massive, triumphant, and soul-shaking howl.

The sound tore through the Beastworld air, a flawless, perfectly harmonized call of absolute Northern dominance. It vibrated in the chests of every single foreign noble in the grandstands. It was a declaration of sheer power, a musical, lethal promise that the Vanguard bloodline was utterly untouchable. Within seconds, the visiting wolf packs in the audience couldn’t help their own biological instincts; they tipped their heads back and joined in, sending a cascading, deafening wave of howls echoing up to the Heavens in complete submission to the Iron-Wood pups.

The showcase was officially over.

The moment the howling ceased, the terrifying, unyielding Vanguard combatants instantly reverted back to being children.

Completely exhausted, completely covered in dirt, sweat, and arena sand, but practically glowing with the euphoric, blinding high of absolute victory, the pups turned their sights on the Matriarch’s pavilion.

They didn’t wait for the elite guards to lower the gates. Axel and Onyx bounded up the massive stone steps. Tanith slithered up the side of the stone pillars, shifting back into her human form mid-air, while Iris practically teleported to the top using her magic. Zale waddled up the stairs as fast as his little webbed feet could carry him, and little Fedor finally poked his fiery-red head out from beneath Roxy’s dress, yipping happily.

They rushed the royal stands like a localized, transmigrated avalanche.

"Mama!" Iris shrieked joyfully. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

The children tackled Roxy and the Kings in a massive, overwhelming pile of fur, scales, and unadulterated Vanguard love. The sheer kinetic force of the pups hitting the Warlords would have knocked over an entire battalion of soldiers.

Kaelen caught the twin wolves right against his broad chest, the impact forcing a rare, booming laugh from the King of the North as he was smothered in wet lupine kisses. Syris caught Tanith, completely ignoring the arena dirt she was smearing all over his immaculate emerald robes, his aristocratic face glowing with profound pride. Caspian hoisted Zale high into the air, spinning the giggling merman-shifter around.

The pups swarmed Roxy, but their terrifying Warlord genetics were perfectly paired with their deep, protective instincts.

Even in the absolute peak of their chaotic excitement, they moved with hyper-calculated care, ensuring not a single elbow, knee, or paw came anywhere near the heavy, precious curve of her pregnant belly.

They pressed kisses to her cheeks, tangled their small hands in her dark curls, and babbled over each other, desperately demanding her praise.

"Did you see me, Mother?" Axel panted, shifting back into his human form, his blue eyes shining.

"You were all absolutely magnificent," Roxy laughed, her voice thick with happy tears as she wrapped her arms around as many of them as she could physically reach. "You are the greatest warriors in the entire universe. I am so incredibly proud of you!"

Torian, having entirely forgotten the earlier glares of his brothers, reached into the pile and hauled a fiercely squirming Tyara onto his massive shoulders, entirely claiming the victory for the whole family. The royal pavilion was a chaotic, beautiful tangle of transmigrated joy, a perfect, absolute rejection of the celestial darkness that had tried to tear them apart.

Hours later, the chaotic, beautiful day finally came to an end.

The sun dipped below the jagged mountain peaks, plunging the Vanguard territory into a cool, crisp spring night. Down on the festival grounds, the massive bonfires were roaring.

The visiting packs from the North, the South, the Swamps, and the Peaks were heavily engaged in a massive, continental feast, entirely hosted by the Iron-Wood elite guards. The ale was flowing, the roasted meats were endless, and the political alliances of the Beastworld were being drunkenly, happily solidified.

But inside the Iron-Wood Manor, the atmosphere was entirely different.

The adrenaline of the tournament had finally, violently crashed. The Vanguard pups, who had just spent the entire day utterly terrifying an entire continent with their apocalyptic strength, were now completely, helplessly dead to the world.

The five towering Alpha Kings walked slowly down the dimly lit, quiet stone corridors of the nursery wing. They had entirely shed their intimidating Warlord mantles. They were just fathers.

Kaelen carried a snoring Axel under one massive arm and a drooling Onyx under the other. Syris walked with Tanith’s head resting gently on his shoulder, the young snake-shifter completely limp in her father’s elegant embrace.

Zarek carried little Iris against his scorching chest, her small hands fisted in his dark tunic, while Caspian cradled Zale and Fedor. Torian brought up the rear, his massive hand gently supporting Tyara’s head as she slept soundly against his neck.

They pushed open the heavy mahogany doors to the massive, shared Warlord nursery.

Moving with a breathtaking, terrifyingly gentle precision, the greatest apex predators in the universe laid their children down into their respective thick, fur-lined beds. Kaelen pulled a heavy dire-wolf pelt over the twins.

Syris meticulously brushed a stray strand of dark hair from Tanith’s pale face. They stood in the quiet room for a long moment, looking down at the small, peacefully breathing forms of the very pups who had just broken the pride of the Beastworld’s finest warriors.

They were safe. They were home.

Down the hall, Roxy had already retreated to the master suite to catch her breath.

The heavy, suffocating noise of the festival was completely muffled by the thick stone walls. The Manor was settling into a deep, profound, and overwhelmingly peaceful quiet.

In the massive fireplace, the hearth fire was crackling softly, casting a warm, flickering golden glow across the dark wooden floorboards and the mountain of dire-wolf pelts on the bed.

Roxy stood in the center of the room, still dressed in her emerald and gold gown. She took a deep, grounding breath, entirely savoring the absolute silence.

She walked slowly toward the heavy glass doors at the far end of the suite, pushing them open to step out onto the private Matriarch’s balcony.

The crisp, cool spring night air immediately washed over her flushed skin. The sky above the Vanguard territory was a breathtaking canvas of deep, bruising purple and millions of glittering, diamond-like stars.

In the distance, she could see the warm, orange glow of the festival bonfires and hear the faint, echoing sound of laughter and distant howling.

She leaned her hip against the carved stone railing, looking out over the sprawling, massive territory she commanded.

A sudden, powerful wave of memory crashed over her.

She remembered the sterile, blinding white walls of her hospital room on Earth. She remembered the suffocating, terrifying isolation, the rhythmic, lifeless beeping of the heart monitor, and the absolute, paralyzing certainty that she was entirely alone in the universe.

She remembered the heavy, crushing weight of Marcus’s cage, the feeling of being completely invisible, completely powerless, and entirely devoid of a future.

She looked at the thriving, roaring Beastworld empire spread out beneath her feet. She thought of the five terrifying, fiercely devoted Kings currently tucking their children into bed down the hall. She thought of the way Zarek looked at her, the way Kaelen shielded her, the way Torian worshipped her, the way Syris plotted for her, and the way Caspian healed her.

The sheer, monumental contrast between the broken, dying girl she had been and the absolute, unbreakable Matriarch she had become washed over her transmigrated soul like a tidal wave of profound, universal grace. She hadn’t just survived the dark; she had swallowed it whole and birthed a sun.

Roxy stood alone in the crisp night air, the gentle spring breeze tossing her dark curls around her face.

She lowered her hand, resting her palm gently against the heavy, beautiful curve of her pregnant belly. The Vanguard magic hummed beneath her fingertips. As if responding to the profound peace in her heart, the new life growing inside her gave a strong, vital, and incredibly reassuring kick against her hand.

A soft, beautifully overwhelmed smile spread across Roxy’s face. A single, happy tear slipped down her cheek, catching the starlight before it fell into the dark.

She gently rubbed her stomach, looking out at the magnificent, roaring empire she called home, and whispered into the quiet dark,

"I never thought I would have so many children."