Chapter 344: Episode 342: Who did this to you?

Ren let out a long, slow breath, his breath pluming in the crisp air.

“At this point in my life,” Ren murmured, his voice a gravelly, devoted whisper, “I live and breathe for her.”

Kaito let out a dark, agonizing groan, his hands coming up to grip his own hair in sheer frustration. The subordinate took a frantic step forward, his usually disciplined composure completely shattering.

“And what about your people?!” Kaito demanded, his voice rising in desperation. “What about the promise you made to the eastern plains? Sure, the Queen engineered the cure for the Wither-Rot. She saved the continent, and our tribe can finally breed better without the fear of our curse. But does she know that it was at the absolute cost of you?”

Kaito’s chest heaved violently. “Does she know that you were the one sacrificed so that the residual ancient magic in our veins wouldn’t affect our tribe’s life and reproduction? You tied the burden of the entire Kitsune bloodline to your own immortal core so we could survive! And now you are pouring the very last drops of that core into her womb! You are throwing your life away, Ren!”

Ren’s vibrant green eyes immediately narrowed into slits. He closed the distance between them, grabbing Kaito by the lapels of his fur jacket.

“Keep your voice down,” Ren hissed, casting a frantic glance toward the towering stone walls of the Manor. “Someone might hear us. She cannot know about my imminent death. I forbid it.”

Kaito didn’t fight his King’s grip. Instead, a dark, utterly broken chuckle vibrated in the subordinate’s chest. He looked at Ren with a mixture of profound grief and devastating pity.

“See?” Kaito whispered, a sad, knowing smile touching his lips. “She is only a day pregnant, and you are already losing one of your most important senses.”

Ren froze, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“If your hearing was fully intact,” Kaito explained, his voice thick with unshed tears, “you would have heard me approach the perimeter long before I breached the garden. You would have heard the snow falling off the branches. Your core is already draining to protect the infant, Ren. What is it going to be next? Your eyesight? Your illusions?”

Ren’s grip on Kaito’s leather collar slowly loosened. The Fox King lowered his hands, a heavy, devastating silence falling over him as the terrifying reality of his failing biology stared him right in the face. He looked down at his pale, trembling hands, the vibrant Kitsune magic that usually danced across his fingertips now completely dormant.

Ren let out a soft, melancholic sigh, lifting his head to look back toward the grand windows of the master bedroom.

“Even if I lose everything,” Ren swore softly, a beautifully tragic smile touching his lips. “I will spend the rest of my days with her. My life was not meant to be lived this long anyway, Kaito. Let me have this.”

Kaito stared at his King. He opened his mouth, desperately wanting to argue, wanting to scream that the Beastworld needed one of its greatest kings.

But looking at the unwavering peace in Ren’s fading green eyes, Kaito found he just couldn’t say the words again. The Fox King had made his ultimate peace.

Kaito swallowed the heavy lump of grief in his throat. He offered a deep, incredibly pained, and respectful bow. He gave Ren one final, devastatingly sad smile before his form shimmered, shifting into a sleek red fox, and disappearing entirely into the dense, frozen shadows of the forest.

Ren stood there in the freezing garden for a very long time. The cold was finally beginning to seep into his bones. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to return to the warm, chaotic joy of his pregnant Queen.

He turned around.

Ren physically jumped, his heart skipping a frantic beat. Leaning casually against the thick trunk of an old iron-wood tree, completely silent, was Zarek.

The towering Dragon Alpha had his massive arms crossed over his chest, his golden eyes burning with a terrifying, unreadable hellfire as he watched the Fox King. He had heard every single word.

Ren swallowed hard, immediately defaulting to his arrogant persona to mask the sheer panic bubbling in his chest. He cleared his throat, swiftly wiping a remnant of unshed tears from the corner of his green eyes.

“Zaza!” Ren chirped, forcing a bright, cocky smile onto his face. “What are you doing out there in the cold? Lurking in the bushes doesn’t suit your aesthetics, you know.”

Zarek didn’t say a word. The Dragon King uncrossed his massive arms and pushed himself off the tree. He closed the distance in two massive strides.

Before Ren could even raise his hands to defend himself, Zarek pulled his fist back and swung.

The punch connected flawlessly with the side of Ren’s face. The force of the blow lifted the Fox King clean off his feet, sending him crashing violently into the frosted ferns.

***

The atmosphere inside the bedroom of the Iron-Wood Manor was a hive of vibrant, deafening, and completely beautiful domestic bliss. The entire pack had been summoned, and practically every single member of the family was currently crammed into the royal suite.

On the massive, fur-covered floor rug, sheer infant anarchy reigned supreme.

Princess Tyara, now one month old, had grown significantly. The little white tiger cub with striking blue eyes was no longer confined to her bassinet. She had discovered the terrifying art of crawling, though she did it quite clumsily, her small hand skidding wildly across the woven rugs. Her absolute favorite new game was utilizing her feral momentum to act as a tiny, white-furred battering ram.

Tyara scrambled across the rug with a happy, aggressive squeak, aiming directly for Zale.

The tiny abyssal prince, whose bright green eyes were wide with determination, was currently attempting to master the art of walking. Zale stood on his wobbly, pale little legs, his webbed hands reaching out for balance.

Tyara rammed directly into Zale’s knees. The abyssal prince let out a silent gasp, tumbling backward onto a pile of plush pillows.

“Tyara, no tackling your brother!” Axel scolded.

The wolf twins, Axel and Onyx, both sporting matching, exasperated blue eyes, immediately dove into the fray, acting as tiny, furry peacekeepers. Beside them, sweet little Iris, her violet eyes shining with amusement, gently picked Zale up and dusted him off, while Onyx wrangled the squirming, highly offended tiger cub.

Near the massive hearth, teenage Drax was suffering a completely different kind of exhaustion. The dragon-shifter sat cross-legged on the floor, his vibrant green eyes completely glazed over as he endured the ultimate test of his discipline: babysitting.

Sitting directly in front of him was Tanith. The basilisk’s bright green eyes were wide with endless curiosity as she unleashed a relentless, rapid-fire barrage of questions.

“Why is the fire hot, Drax?” Tanith asked, pointing at the hearth. “Why are your scales hard? Why does Kaelen look grumpy? Can I eat a cloud? Why?”

“Because… magic,” Drax groaned, rubbing his temples, having entirely run out of logical answers thirty minutes ago.

Sitting in the center of the massive bed, completely surrounded by this absolute circus, was Roxy.

The Queen of the Iron-Wood looked breathtakingly radiant. Her dark curls tumbled over her shoulders, her brilliant green eyes sparkling with profound, overwhelming joy. Standing protectively around the perimeter of the mattress were Torian, Kaelen, Syris, and Caspian.

The Alpha Kings and the mortal Merman, all bearing identical, fiercely proud blue eyes, save for Syris’s calculating green, were looking at her as if she was the moon herself.

Roxy had just officially shared the news of the pregnancy with the rest of her mates. The room was practically buzzing with their heavy, protective, and overjoyed Alpha auras.

“A Fox cub running around the Manor,” Torian rumbled, a fond, highly amused smirk touching his lips. “As if the trickster wasn’t insufferable enough on his own.”

“We will need to magically reinforce the eastern wing,” Caspian noted pragmatically, his mortal face bright with a genuine smile. “If the child inherits Ren’s illusionary magic, the Manor will be a labyrinth of traps by its third birthday.”

Roxy let out a bright, melodic laugh, her hands resting protectively over her flat stomach. She was so incredibly happy. The terrifying silence of the System was entirely forgotten in the warmth of her family.

But as the laughter peaked, the doors of the master bedroom groaned open.

The entire room went completely silent. The children paused their wrestling. Drax looked up. The Alpha Kings immediately turned their heads.

Ren stumbled into the bedroom.

The Fox King looked absolutely awful. His usually immaculate emerald-green robe was covered in frost and dirt. But the most horrifying detail was his face. His left cheekbone was severely, darkly bruised, already swelling to an alarming size, and a fresh cut on his split lower lip was actively bleeding down his chin.

Looming directly behind him in the doorway, looking like a terrifying, unapologetic thundercloud of golden-eyed fury, was Zarek.

Roxy let out a loud, horrified gasp. The radiant joy instantly vanished from her face.

She threw the heavy furs off her lap and scrambled off the massive mattress, practically sprinting across the room. She entirely ignored the towering Dragon King and threw her hands up to gently frame Ren’s battered face.

“Ren!” Roxy cried out, her brilliant green eyes wide with sheer panic as she examined his bruised, bleeding features. “Baby, what happened?! Who hit you?!!”

Ren let out a pathetic, gravelly groan. He winced as she touched his cheek, turning his teary, vibrant green eyes toward her. Slowly, weakly, the Fox King raised a single, trembling finger and pointed directly over his shoulder at the massive, brooding Dragon.

“…He did it…”

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