Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband

Chapter 240: The Sovereign’s Legacy and the Perfect Ending

The morning sun broke over the eastern cliffs, casting a brilliant, golden light across the Warlord estate. It was shaping up to be a perfectly normal, chaotic day.

In the manor’s massive kitchen, I was currently attempting to prepare a breakfast feast of smoked sea-bass, roasted pine nuts, and fresh brioche. Usually, this was my domain. I moved through the kitchen with the practiced grace of a nine-tailed silver fox, dodging kitchen-golems and flipping skillets with ease.

But this morning, the moment I lifted the lid off the smoked sea-bass, the world tilted violently on its axis.

A sudden, overwhelming wave of dizziness hit me so hard my knees actually buckled. I slammed a hand onto the cold granite countertop to steady myself, my silver tails puffing out in instinctual alarm. The smell of the fish, a scent I normally loved, suddenly made my stomach perform a synchronized acrobatic routine of pure nausea.

"Sovereign?" a small, polite voice asked from the doorway.

I cracked one eye open. Jasper was standing by the pantry, holding his little leather notebook. The snake-cub pushed his round glasses up his nose, his slitted eyes widening. "Your facial pigmentation has decreased by forty percent. You are exhibiting signs of severe physiological distress. Are you experiencing a mana-collapse?"

"No, Jasper," I breathed, turning my head away from the fish. "I think I just stood up too fast. I’m fine."

"Self-diagnosis is statistically the leading cause of preventable catastrophe in the Empire," a cold, clinical voice announced.

Cassian glided into the kitchen, wearing a pristine white apron and looking highly alarmed. The Serpent Warlord didn’t even hesitate. He raised his hand, and a massive, glowing green runic circle instantly materialized in the air in front of me, sweeping over my body from head to toe.

"Cassian, it’s just a dizzy spell, I—" I started to argue, but my voice wavered as another wave of nausea hit. I pressed my hand against my stomach, taking a shaky breath.

BANG.

The heavy oak doors of the kitchen were violently blasted open.

"Who is hurting my wife?!"

Caspian materialized in the room so fast it displaced the air, blowing several napkins off the table. The Merman King’s teal eyes were completely dilated, his silver hair whipping wildly around his broad shoulders. He had felt my sudden spike of physical distress through our Warlord bond, and he had arrived radiating an aura of crushing, terrifying deep-sea pressure, completely prepared to slaughter whatever enemy had breached his walls.

"No one is hurting her," Cassian hissed, entirely unbothered by the suffocating killing intent in the room. He stepped closer to me, adjusting his glasses as he studied the glowing green runes hovering over my head. "The anomaly is internal."

Caspian’s lethal aura vanished instantly, replaced by sheer, unfiltered panic. He closed the distance between us in two strides, his large, cool hands gently cupping my face as he pulled me against his chest.

"Primrose," Caspian murmured frantically, his thumbs lightly brushing my pale cheeks. "What is wrong? Does your chest hurt? Are your magical pathways straining? I will summon the Royal Healers from the Capital immediately—"

"Caspian, wait," Cassian interrupted. The Archduke’s voice sounded incredibly strange. It was entirely stripped of its usual haughty, clinical detachment.

Cassian was staring at the diagnostic rune. He took his glasses off, polished them furiously with a handkerchief, put them back on, and stared at the light again.

"Cassian," Caspian growled, a dangerous edge returning to his voice as he shielded me with his body. "Give me the diagnosis."

"I... I am observing a structural impossibility," Cassian stammered. The flawlessly composed Archduke of the East was actually stuttering. He tapped the glowing green rune with his index finger.

The diagnostic circle suddenly shifted. It expanded outward, changing from a bright, clinical green into two distinct, pulsing orbs of light.

One orb was a brilliant, shimmering silver—the exact unmistakable signature of nine-tailed fox mana.

The other orb was a deep, glowing teal—a flawless reflection of oceanic, royal merman magic.

The two lights pulsed in a steady, rapid, rhythmic beat.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

The entire kitchen went completely, terrifyingly silent.

"Her structural integrity is not compromised," Cassian announced, his hands actually shaking as he looked directly at Caspian. "The Sovereign’s mana pathways are actively rearranging to accommodate secondary life forces. Gestation is in its earliest stages. And... the mana signatures are distinct."

I stopped breathing. The room stopped spinning.

"Secondary life forces," Caspian repeated, his voice barely a whisper. The terrifying Final Boss of the continent, the ruthless mastermind who had conquered the oceans, sounded like he had completely forgotten how to breathe. He looked at the two pulsing lights. "Plural?"

"Twins," Cassian confirmed, a massive, uncharacteristic smile breaking across his sharp face. "A fox cub and a merman pup. Primrose is pregnant."

The kitchen doors burst open again.

"WHERE IS THE ENEMY?!" Rurik roared, tromping into the room with his massive battle-axe raised high. Lucien melted out of the shadows right behind him, twin daggers drawn, with Juni and the cubs rushing in to see what the commotion was.

"There is no enemy, you loud dog!" Cassian shouted, though he was laughing—actually laughing. He pointed at the glowing runes. "The Sovereign is with child! Two of them!"

Rurik dropped his battle-axe. It hit the stone floor with a massive crash that cracked a tile, but no one cared.

"TWO HEIRS?!" Rurik bellowed at the top of his lungs, tears instantly geysering from his golden eyes. He threw his massive arms in the air. "THE PACK IS EXPANDING! THE NORTH WILL FORGE TWIN AXES! WE ARE HAVING BABIES!"

"Technically, infants!" Jasper corrected, writing so frantically in his notebook he snapped his charcoal pencil. "A dual-species twin gestation! The genetic implications are revolutionary!"

"I’m going to be a big brother!" Orion cheered, jumping up and down. "I can teach the pup how to summon water rings!"

"And I will teach the fox how to bite the merchants!" Vali howled proudly, wrapping an arm around Clover, who was already calculating the required budget for two royal nurseries.

I couldn’t look at Rurik, or Cassian, or the celebrating cubs. I slowly turned around in Caspian’s arms, looking up at my husband.

Caspian was staring at me. His teal eyes were completely blown wide, shimmering with an emotion so raw, so overwhelmingly profound, it took my breath away. He raised a trembling hand, his long, elegant fingers gently brushing against my cheek, as if he was afraid I was a dream that might shatter.

"Twins," Caspian breathed, the word sounding like a sacred, desperate prayer. He looked down at my stomach, where the faint, warm flutter of magic resided, and then back up to my eyes. "Primrose... you..."

"Yeah," I whispered, a watery, massive smile breaking across my face as tears finally spilled over my eyelashes. "We’re going to be parents."

Caspian let out a choked sound—a devastating mix of a laugh and a sob that completely unmade the terrifying Merman King.

He didn’t just hug me. Caspian dropped directly to his knees on the hard stone floor of the kitchen. He wrapped his strong arms securely around my waist, pressing his face gently against my stomach, holding me as if I was the absolute center of the universe.

"Thank you," Caspian wept quietly, the cold, ruthless Final Boss utterly conquered by love. "Thank you, Little Rose. You gave me a home. You gave me a pack. And now... you are giving me a future."

Lucien, who had sheathed his daggers, stepped forward. The Panther Warlord placed a warm, heavy hand on Caspian’s shoulder.

"Congratulations, my King," Lucien murmured respectfully, his violet eyes soft as he looked at me and Caspian. Juni stepped up beside him, resting her head on his shoulder and wiping her own happy tears away. "The shadows will guard the nursery. No harm will ever touch them."

"I am drafting a spreadsheet of approved visitors right now!" Cassian shrieked, instantly abandoning his joy to return to panic. "The infants’ immune systems will require extreme isolation protocols! Rurik, you must be scrubbed with boiling lye before you can even look at the children!"

"I will bathe in the lye for the Sovereign’s cubs!" Rurik sobbed happily, scooping Pip up into the air, much to the duck-toddler’s delight.

I looked down at Caspian, who was still kneeling on the floor, holding me tight while his Warlord brothers completely lost their minds around us. I ran my hands through his shimmering silver hair, my heart feeling so incredibly full it threatened to burst.

I thought about the tragic otome game we had transmigrated into. I thought about the blood-soaked destiny that was supposed to await these men.

Looking around the kitchen, there were no monsters. There was just an overly-hygienic snake, a crying wolf, a smiling panther, a flock of chaotic cubs, and a Final Boss who was currently on his knees, weeping with joy over his unborn children.

We had completely broken the plot. We had taken a tragedy and cooked it, scolded it, and loved it until it transformed into the most beautiful, ridiculous, chaotic family in the Empire.

Caspian stood up, effortlessly lifting me into his arms bridal-style.

"Hey!" I gasped, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck. "What are you doing? The breakfast is still cooking!"

"The breakfast is irrelevant," Caspian declared smoothly, the regal authority returning to his voice, though his eyes were still bright with tears. "The Sovereign is officially on bed rest. I am carrying you to the sunroom, and you are not lifting a single finger for the next eight months."

"Caspian, I am pregnant, not dying! I still have to run this manor!"

"Rurik can eat the fish raw!" Caspian dismissed regally, carrying me toward the doors.

"I WILL EAT IT RAW FOR THE TWINS!" Rurik’s booming voice echoed from the kitchen behind us, followed by the sound of Cassian yelling about salmonella.

I rested my head against Caspian’s chest, listening to the steady, rapid thud of his heart, and I couldn’t stop laughing.

The story of Beastly B.A.D.S. was officially over. But the story of Primrose, the silver ninetail fox who conquered the Final Boss with a frying pan, was just beginning.

And as Caspian carried me through the halls of our beautiful, loud, perfectly imperfect home, I knew one thing for certain:

We were going to live happily, and completely chaotically, ever after.

[THE END]