Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband-Chapter 144: The Gift of the North

The Meat Cake was, surprisingly, a culinary masterpiece. Cassian and Lucien couldn’t come because they had business to attend to.

Rurik ate three slices. He ate the ribeye layer. He ate the venison layer. He even ate the bacon-bit garnish. He ate with the focused intensity of a man who had been starving for affection (and protein) his entire life.

"It’s... acceptable," Rurik grunted, wiping gravy from his chin.

"Acceptable?" Primrose scoffed, her Fire Tail flickering indignantly. "It’s a masterpiece of cardiovascular risk! Admit it, Wolf. You love it."

"I admit nothing," Rurik said, stabbing a potato. "Pass the salt."

The mood in the Daycare had shifted from Terrified Silence to Chaotic Joy. Arjun and Vali were having a mashed potato fight under the table. Caspian was trying to explain the hydro-dynamics of gravy to Orion. Leonora and Rajah were debating whether a lion could beat a wolf in an eating contest (Rajah was losing the argument).

"Presents time!" Vali announced, climbing onto Rurik’s lap.

Rurik sighed, but he didn’t push the boy away. "I don’t need things. I have a sword. I have a coat. I am content."

"Open it," Vali commanded, shoving a poorly wrapped box into his hands.

Rurik tore the paper. Inside was a leather sheath. It wasn’t fancy. It was rough, hand-stitched, and smelled of glue.

"I made it," Vali said proudly. "With Uncle Balthazar. It’s for your dagger. The old one was falling apart."

Rurik ran his thumb over the crooked stitching. He looked at the little wolf paw burned into the leather.

"It’s sturdy," Rurik murmured. He slid his dagger into it. It fit perfectly. "Good work, pup."

Vali beamed like he had just conquered a kingdom.

Next, Caspian handed him a small, elegant bottle.

"Beard oil," Caspian explained. "Infused with sea kelp and mint. Because honestly, Rurik, you smell like wet dog and violence. This might help."

"I smell like a man," Rurik grunted, but he pocketed the bottle. "Thanks, Fish."

Primrose stepped forward last. She held a thick envelope sealed with white wax.

"This came this morning," Primrose said softly. "From the North."

Rurik froze. He recognized the seal. The Wolf Crest of Winter-Hold.

"Konrad," Rurik whispered.

He took the letter. He didn’t open it immediately. He stared at it, his face unreadable.

"You don’t have to read it now," Primrose said gently. "We can go back to eating meat."

"No," Rurik said. He broke the seal.

He read in silence. His eyes scanned the page once, then twice. His shoulders, usually so tense they looked like granite, slowly relaxed.

"Well?" Rajah asked, leaning forward. "Did he declare war? Did he ask for money?"

"He sent a deed," Rurik said, his voice rough.

He held up a piece of parchment attached to the letter.

"He officially signed over the South Watchtower of Winter-Hold to me. He says... he says it’s always been my favorite spot to brood. And he wants me to have a place to crash if the Daycare business goes south."

Rurik looked at the letter again.

"And he wished me a Happy Birthday," Rurik added quietly. "He hasn’t done that in five years."

Later, when the cake was gone and the kids were in a sugar (or meat) coma on the rug, Rurik sat on the porch with Primrose.

The rain had stopped. The air smelled clean and cold.

"You know why I hate this day?" Rurik asked, staring at the moon.

Primrose sat beside him, wrapping her tails around her legs for warmth. "Tell me."

"It was on my birthday," Rurik said. "Five years ago. That was the day Konrad told me to leave. He didn’t exile me out of anger. He did it to protect me. But hearing your big brother say ’You don’t belong here anymore’ on the day you were born... it sticks with you."

He took a sip of the ale Caspian had bought him.

"I spent five years thinking I was broken. Thinking I was just a stray dog that nobody wanted."

He looked back into the house. He saw Vali sleeping on Rajah’s chest. He saw Caspian laughing at something Leonora said. He saw the chaotic, messy, beautiful family he had accidentally built.

"But today," Rurik said, a genuine smile touching his lips. "Today was good. The cake was weird. The balloons were depressing. But it was good."

Primrose bumped his shoulder with hers.

"We’re your pack now, Rurik," she said. "You’re not a stray. You’re the Alpha. Even if you are grumpy."

Rurik chuckled. "Don’t push it, Fox. I still bite."

---

The party wound down late.

Luna volunteered to walk Clover home.

"Come on, sweetie," Luna said, holding Clover’s hand. "Let’s get you to bed before you fall asleep standing up."

They walked through the quiet, cobblestone streets of the Capital. The gas lamps flickered, casting long shadows.

Luna was humming a lullaby, feeling happy. The party had been a success. Rurik had smiled. Primrose was back. Everything felt right.

Then, she saw him.

Walking toward them on the other side of the street was a figure.

He wore a long, hooded cloak, but Luna knew that walk. It was a lazy, confident saunter. A walk that said I own this street, but I’m too tired to enforce it.

As he passed under a streetlamp, the light caught his face.

Orange fur. Green eyes. A sly, crooked smirk.

Jax.

Luna’s heart stopped. She hadn’t seen him in months. He had left for that escort mission to the Western Ports and had only sent letters.

"Jax!" Luna cried out, joy bubbling up in her chest.

She let go of Clover’s hand and ran across the street.

"Jax! You’re back! Why didn’t you tell us?"

The Fox-Kin stopped. He turned slowly to look at her.

Luna skidded to a halt a few feet away. She was beaming.

"You missed the party!" Luna laughed. "Rurik actually ate the cake! And Primrose has three tails now! You have to come see..."

She trailed off.

Jax was looking at her. But he wasn’t smiling.

His green eyes, usually so warm and teasing, were blank. Cold.

"Do I know you, rabbit?" Jax asked.

Luna froze. Her smile faltered.

"Jax?" she whispered. "It’s me. Luna. From the Daycare? We... we are... a couple. You said you liked me."

Jax tilted his head. He looked her up and down with zero recognition. Just the assessing stare of a predator looking at prey.

"I think you have the wrong Fox, sweetheart," Jax drawled. His voice was the same, but the tone was wrong. It was empty.

He turned away, adjusting his cloak.

"I have business to attend to. Run along home."

He walked away, disappearing into the fog.

Luna stood there in the middle of the street. The cold wind bit through her dress.

"Jax?" she whispered to the empty air.

Clover tugged on her skirt.

"Sister?" Clover asked, looking scared. "Wasn’t that Jax?"

Luna stared at the spot where he had vanished. A terrible, sinking feeling settled in her stomach. That was Jax. She knew it was Jax.

But the way he looked at her...

It was like he was hollow.