Chapter 257: Episode 255: Everyone has gone crazy.

Immediately after the meeting, Roxy went to find her first born.

Though her mind was busy with the plague, she tried to appear sane when she pushed through the training grounds door.

The heavy, rhythmic thwack of wood striking hardened leather echoed across the Manor’s back training grounds.

Roxy stepped out onto the back porch, the cool afternoon breeze ruffling her silk shirt.

She leaned against the wooden railing, her eyes softening as she watched her firstborn.

Drax was wielding a massive wooden training sword, a weapon so heavy a normal human couldn’t even lift it, swinging it with a effortless grace.

His black wings were tucked tightly against his back to improve his aerodynamics as he pivoted, striking the training dummy with enough force to crack the thick internal log.

He looked so much like Zarek it made Roxy’s breath catch. He had the same broad, imposing shoulders, the same dark, unruly hair, and the same fierce intensity bleeding from his eyes.

But the moment Drax finished his rotation and spotted his mother leaning against the railing, the terrifying King-in-training completely evaporated.

Drax dropped the heavy wooden sword into the dirt. His posture instantly relaxed, his wings giving a little happy flutter, and he jogged over to the porch with the eager, bounding energy of a giant, scaly puppy.

“Mum!” Drax beamed, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. He looked at her expectantly, practically vibrating with the need for her approval. “Did you see my form? Papa Kaelen taught me how to parry a lower strike, but I added a dragon-tail spin to it.”

“I saw it,” Roxy smiled warmly, reaching out to brush a damp lock of hair from his forehead. “You looked incredible, Drax. You’re getting so strong. Fast, too.”

Drax puffed his chest out, a proud, goofy grin spreading across his face. He leaned into her hand, closing his eyes to soak in the maternal affection he had been starved of for long months.

“Drax,” Roxy began, her tone shifting from playful to a soft, serious one. She lowered her hand to rest on his shoulder. “I need to talk to you about something important.”

Drax’s eyes snapped open. He instantly straightened up, his face hardening into a mask of duty. “Is it an enemy? Tell me where they are. I’ll burn them to ash before dinner.”

“No, no enemies to burn,” Roxy quickly assured him, her heart squeezing at his immediate readiness to kill for her.

That was definitely not a good sign.

She chose her words carefully, wanting to protect him from the terrifying reality of the Wither-Rot Plague.

“But… there is an imbalance outside. Something in the forest’s energy that we need to fix. For the meantime, until I say otherwise, you are not allowed to venture beyond the Manor’s boundary wards. No patrols, no hunting trips to the Dragon Peaks.”

She braced herself for the inevitable argument. Drax was a teenage dragon. He was full of fire, testosterone, and a desperate need to prove himself as the next King. Being grounded was the ultimate insult to a young drake’s pride.

But the argument never came.

Drax just looked at her, his green eyes wide and earnest, and gave a firm nod.

“Okay, Mum,” Drax said simply.

Roxy blinked, completely taken aback. “Okay? Just like that? You’re not going to argue that you’re old enough to handle it? You’re not going to complain about missing your drills?”

Drax shook his head, a soft, almost vulnerable smile touching his lips. He reached out and gently wrapped his large, calloused hands around hers.

“I spent months trying to be strong because you weren’t here,” Drax murmured. “I hated every second of it. If you tell me to stay inside, I’ll stay inside. I don’t want to be a King right now, Mum. I just want to be where you are.”

Roxy’s heart melted into a puddle. This fierce, terrifying young warrior was an absolute simp for his mother, completely submissive to her word just for the comfort of her presence.

She pulled him down into a fierce hug, burying her face in his shoulder. “I love you so much, you big softie.”

“I love you too,” Drax mumbled into her hair. He pulled back, sniffing the air. “You haven’t eaten properly since you woke up. Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” Roxy admitted, her stomach giving a timely rumble. “I’m craving something really delicious. A really rich, heavy beef and potato stew.”

“Allow me to escort you to the kitchen, my Queen,” Drax grinned, offering his arm with exaggerated, chivalrous flair.

Roxy giggled, linking her arm through his as they walked back inside.

While Drax busied himself stoking the kitchen fire and pulling heavy iron pots from the shelves, Roxy sat at the wooden island counter. The scent of garlic and searing meat began to fill the air, making her mouth water.

While she waited, she closed her eyes and focused her energy inward.

System, Roxy thought, I need to reach out to the Gods. If they expect me to cure a magical plague, they owe me a hint.

Anything that could help me.

She waited for the familiar, snarky blue window to pop up.

Nothing happened.

Roxy frowned.

[ERROR 404: ACCESS DENIED.]

The window shattered into pixels and vanished.

Denied? The System had been snarky, withholding, and demanding before, but it had never been physically glitchy.

Why was it behaving so buggy now, during the most dangerous period they had ever faced?

Was the Wither-Rot Plague so potent that it was actually interfering with the System’s connection to the world’s mana?

If she was cut off from the Gods… she was truly flying blind.

“Stew is ready, Mum.”

Drax’s voice pulled her from her rising panic. He set a steaming, fragrant bowl of thick, dark stew in front of her, the rich smell of spices instantly grounding her back in the present.

She was very glad she restocked some.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Roxy sighed, pushing the System worries to the back of her mind. She needed her strength. She scooped up the wooden spoon and took a generous bite. It was absolute heaven.

Just as she swallowed the first mouthful, Torian and Ren strolled into the room.

Roxy paused, her spoon halfway to her mouth. Both men were staring at her with an intensity that made the hair on her arms stand up.

Ren’s massive, bushy red fox tail was swishing back and forth in a rapid, excited wag. Behind Torian, a thick, muscular white tail with black stripes was flicking lazily, yet purposefully, side to side.

“Why are you two looking at me like that?” Roxy asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Torian didn’t answer. Without a word he closed the distance between them, he smoothly reached out and took the bowl of stew from her hands.

“Hey! I was eating that!” Roxy protested.

“And you shall continue,” Ren purred, stepping up to her other side. The Fox gently but firmly took her by the elbow, guiding her off the wooden stool. “But a Queen does not eat perched on a hard stool in the kitchen.”

“Mother I will go back to train,” Drax intercepted. And Roxy immediately faced him.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself okay?” Drax nodded and quickly left her alone with the big men.

Ren guided her out of the kitchen and into the main living area, leading her toward the massive, plush fur-lined couch near the fireplace.

“Where is everyone else?” Roxy asked, letting herself be pushed down into the incredibly soft cushions.

“Syris has been feeling lethargic,” Torian explained, setting the bowl of stew on the low wooden table in front of her. “His cold blood requires more rest. He is sleeping in the master bedroom. Zarek is with him, utilizing a scrying crystal to issue lockdown orders to the Dragon Peaks without leaving the Manor.”

“Which leaves just the two of us to attend to you,” Ren grinned, his fox ears twitching happily.

Ren picked up the bowl and the spoon. He sat down right beside her, scooping up a portion of the stew. He blew on it gently to cool it, then held it to her lips.

Roxy rolled her eyes, but she opened her mouth, allowing the Fox to feed her.

As she chewed, she felt a heavy, warm weight settle onto the couch directly behind her. Torian had positioned himself at her back.

Large, incredibly strong hands settled onto Roxy’s shoulders. Torian’s thumbs pressed into the tight knots at the base of her neck, applying the absolute perfect amount of pressure.

Roxy let out an involuntary, shameful groan of pure bliss, her head falling back against Torian’s solid chest.

“You hold too much tension,” Torian rumbled, his deep voice vibrating against her spine as his fingers worked magic into her sore muscles. “The ocean made you stiff. We must knead the warmth back into your flesh.”

It was absolute, overwhelming pampering. Ren dutifully fed her bite after delicious bite, ensuring she didn’t have to lift a single finger, while Torian methodically melted every ounce of stress from her upper body. They treated her with a level of respect and care that made her feel like a pampered goddess.

Finally, Ren scraped the bottom of the wooden bowl, feeding her the very last bite of potatoes and gravy.

He set the empty bowl down on the table, licking a stray drop of gravy from his own thumb.

Roxy sighed deeply, utterly relaxed, her body boneless against Torian.

Torian’s hands slowed their massaging rhythm. He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

“Now that you are finally done eating…” Torian purred, his voice dropping an entire octave into a dark, feline rumble.

Ren leaned in from the front, boxing her in. The playful light in the Fox’s violet eyes had completely vanished, replaced by a heavy, hooded lust that made Roxy’s hold her breath.

“…we would like to feed, too,” Ren finished, his gaze dropping to her lips.

Roxy let her head drop back against Torian’s shoulder. “You gotta be kidding me.”

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