Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband

Chapter 235: A Sovereign’s Celebration (Pt 2)

The duckling mosh pit had successfully exhausted itself after fifteen minutes of aggressive peeping. As the fluffy fledglings collapsed into a pile of downy, sleepy feathers near the dessert table, Vali realized his duties as Master of Ceremonies were temporarily fulfilled.

It was time for his primary objective.

The silver wolf-cub jumped down from his barrel, slicking back the wild tufts of fur on his head. He took a deep breath, puffed out his chest to maximum capacity, and let his bright pink eyes scan the chaotic Warlord gardens.

He locked onto his target instantly.

Sitting safely away from the Warlord guards who were currently trying (and failing) to out-drink Rurik, Clover was perched on a padded velvet stool. The little bunny-cub looked completely adorable in a pale pink dress that matched the ribbons tied around her long, floppy ears. But while the other children were playing, Clover was entirely focused on her leather ledger, her nose twitching rapidly as she calculated the evening’s expenses.

Vali knew he couldn’t just approach her empty-handed. He was a wolf of the North. He needed to show dominance, provider-instincts, and exceptional wealth.

He immediately pivoted toward the high table, executing a flawless tactical slide under the tablecloth, and emerged near the Warlord treasury chests that had been brought out for the wedding gifts. He didn’t steal—Vali was an honorable Warlord-in-training—but he did strategically acquire a single, incredibly shiny, fist-sized amethyst that Caspian had left sitting near the wine goblets.

He also grabbed a plate stacked precariously high with Primrose’s famous honey-cake.

Armed with sugar and precious gems, Vali marched over to the bunny-cub.

"Clover," Vali announced, his voice dropping an octave as he tried to sound like his father. He slammed the plate of cake and the massive purple gemstone onto the table next to her ledger. "I have secured the perimeter. And I have brought you tribute."

Clover blinked, pulling her charcoal pencil away from the paper. She looked at the towering plate of cake, and then her eyes locked onto the glowing amethyst.

A standard child would have been mesmerized by the pretty color. Clover, however, was a merchant’s daughter down to her very bones. Her sweet, delicate face immediately shifted into a mask of intense professional calculation.

She picked up the amethyst with both hands, holding it up to the light of the fairy-lanterns.

"The clarity is exceptional," Clover murmured, her voice hushed with reverence. "No visible inclusions. It’s an oceanic deep-mine cut. Vali... where did you get this?"

Vali crossed his arms, leaning casually against the table and trying to look like a hardened mercenary. "I acquired it through tactical Warlord maneuvering." (He had asked King Caspian politely, and Caspian had tossed it to him to get him to go away). "I want you to have it. Wolves always provide the best treasures for their... um... preferred business associates."

Clover set the gem down, picking up her pencil again with alarming speed.

"Do you have any idea what the market value of a deep-mine oceanic amethyst is in the Capital right now?" Clover asked, her bunny ears standing straight up with excitement. "With this single stone, we could monopolize the entire silver-feather export business. We could buy three transport carriages. Vali, this is the seed capital we need to launch our empire!"

Vali’s pink eyes went wide. He didn’t care about transport carriages. He just wanted her to think he was cool.

"We can launch an empire?" Vali asked, his tail starting to wag uncontrollably, completely betraying his tough-guy act. "Like... together?"

"Obviously together," Clover smiled, finally looking away from the gemstone and giving him a sweet, incredibly warm look that made Vali’s heart do a violent backflip. "You are my Head of Security. I can’t run a mercantile conglomerate without my Alpha protecting the assets."

Vali felt like he could fight a dragon bare-handed. She called him her Alpha. She wanted to build an empire with him. This was the greatest Warlord courtship in the history of the continent.

Clover carefully tucked the massive gemstone into her small, beaded purse, patting it securely. Then, she picked up a silver fork, scooped up a large piece of the honey-cake Vali had brought her, and held it out to him.

"Here," Clover said softly, her nose twitching in that cute, distracting way it always did. "You need to keep your strength up if you’re going to be fighting off rival merchants for me."

Vali happily ate the cake right off the fork, his silver tail thumping rhythmically against the wooden floorboards.

"I will bite anyone who tries to underbid you, Clover," Vali promised fiercely, his mouth entirely full of frosting.

"No biting the clients, Vali," Clover reminded him with a gentle sigh, though she was laughing as she wiped a smear of frosting off his cheek with her napkin.

"Right. No biting. Only growling," Vali corrected himself instantly.

As the Warlord wedding raged on around them—with Cassian currently threatening to cast a localized quarantine spell on the dance floor and Rurik challenging a tree to an arm-wrestling match—the two cubs sat quietly at their table. Vali proudly stood guard over the ledger, and Clover plotted their financial domination of the beast-kin economy, sharing a plate of honey-cake under the fairy lights.

Across the dance floor, standing at perfect military parade rest near the edge of the buffet tables, Arjun was shaking his head. The nine-year-old tiger-cub was observing Vali’s attempts at mercantile romance with deep, tactical disapproval.

"The wolf has completely abandoned his defensive posture for cake," Arjun muttered to himself, crossing his arms over his tailored vest. "A fatal strategic error."

"Or a highly successful diplomatic negotiation," a rich, booming voice chuckled from behind him.

Arjun immediately spun around, snapping a sharp salute.

Standing there in magnificent, gold-threaded robes was his father, Rajah. The Tiger King looked every bit the fierce, untouchable ruler of the southern jungles, his striped ears twitching with amusement as he looked down at his son.

Beside him stood Princess Leonora. The lioness was breathtaking, her golden, mane-like hair cascading over a stunning crimson gown. She wasn’t Arjun’s birth mother, but you would never know it by the fiercely protective, overwhelmingly proud way she looked at him.

"At ease, Commander," Rajah laughed, resting a massive, heavy hand on Arjun’s shoulder. "You do not need to guard the perimeter at a wedding. You are supposed to be eating sugar until you make yourself sick. It is a Warlord tradition."

Arjun relaxed his stance slightly, though he tried to maintain his dignified aura. "I am simply monitoring the structural integrity of the celebration, Father. Someone has to ensure Uncle Rurik does not accidentally knock over the central pillar."

Leonora let out a warm, elegant laugh that sounded like a purr. She stepped forward, ignoring Arjun’s tough-guy exterior entirely, and began fussing with his collar.

"You are growing too fast, my brave little tiger," Leonora murmured, her golden eyes incredibly soft as she smoothed the lapels of his vest. She gently brushed a stray tuft of striped fur from his forehead. "You look so handsome tonight. The most handsome cub in the Empire."

Arjun’s cheeks flushed a deep, embarrassed pink. He was a hardened tactical genius, the future Alpha of the southern territories, but under Leonora’s gentle touch, he instantly melted. He leaned into her hand just a fraction, his tiger ears dropping back in a display of pure, quiet affection.

"Thank you, Mother," Arjun mumbled, looking at the floorboards.

Leonora smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. She had married Rajah long after Arjun was born, stepping into the role of a Warlord’s wife, but she had claimed the little tiger-cub as her own flesh and blood from the very first day.

"Go play, Arjun," Leonora encouraged gently, turning him toward the dance floor. "Let your father and I handle the perimeter security for tonight."

Arjun gave them both a crisp nod before sprinting off, entirely abandoning his military decorum the second he realized Silas and Pip were playing tag near the cake.

Watching the beautiful exchange from the edge of the gardens, I felt a familiar, solid warmth wrap around my waist.

Caspian pulled me back against his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head as we watched the tiger family. The Merman King smelled like the deep sea and expensive wine, an anchor of absolute calm amidst the joyous Warlord chaos.

"The southern cub is getting soft," Caspian murmured, a smug, highly satisfied tone in his deep voice. "The Sovereign’s domesticating influence has entirely corrupted the next generation of Warlords."

"It’s called being loved, Caspian," I laughed softly, leaning my weight back against him. "And you love it just as much as they do."

"I am merely tolerating it for your sake," Caspian lied smoothly, though his arms tightened around me in a fiercely possessive hold that completely betrayed him.

I smiled, resting my hands over his. The night was perfect. The air was filled with music, the Warlords were laughing, and Juni and Lucien were currently spinning under the fairy-lights, lost in their own world.

"It really is a beautiful wedding," I sighed happily. "I just wish everyone could have been here. It’s too bad Luna and Jax couldn’t attend because of their honeymoon. Luna would have absolutely loved the moon-lilies."

"Jax is currently dealing with a very different kind of Warlord survival training," Caspian chuckled darkly, entirely unsympathetic to his fellow Warlord. "A honeymoon with the Wolf Princess of the West requires high stamina and an extreme tolerance for biting. They are exactly where they need to be."

I swatted Caspian’s arm playfully, though I couldn’t stop my smile.

Caspian turned me around in his arms, the teasing glint in his teal eyes fading into that intense, overwhelming devotion that still made my heart race, even after all these years. He raised a hand, his cool fingers gently tracing my jawline.

"They have their honeymoon, Lucien and Juni have the sky, and Rajah has the jungle," Caspian whispered, the noise of the party fading away as he looked at me. "But I have the entire world right here in my arms."

My breath hitched. "You always know exactly what to say to make me melt, don’t you, Your Majesty?"

"It is a highly calculated architectural strategy," Caspian promised, a wicked, beautiful smirk pulling at his lips before he leaned down and captured my mouth.

The kiss was deep, slow, and devastatingly perfect. Around us, the beast-kin Empire roared—Rurik was currently trying to teach a duckling how to howl, Cassian was disinfecting the punch bowl, and the Warlord cubs were running wild under the stars.

But wrapped in Caspian’s arms, tasting the salt of the ocean and the sweetness of the feast, I knew one thing for certain.

The cliffside manor wasn’t just a fortress anymore. It was a home.