"You may go, Dena. Thank you," Roxy said softly, not even turning her head.
The young wolf-shifter, who had followed them upstairs carrying a stack of fresh linens, imdiately offered a respectful bow and slipped right back out into the hallway, leaving the Matriarch entirely alone with the Dragon Alpha.
The room was bathed in the cool, soothing shadows of the early evening. Roxy walked over to the massive, fur-covered bed and carefully climbed onto the mattress. She settled against the mountain of silk pillows, pulling her violet robe aside to imdiately placate the furious, squirming bundle in her arms.
Tyara latched instantly, her tiny, desperate whimpers imdiately silenced as she fed with her usual, terrifyingly aggressive tiger focus, whining and whimpering.
Zarek climbed right onto the bed with her, his massive weight causing the mattress to dip heavily. He settled beside her, crossing his thick, muscular legs, his eyes entirely focused on the beautiful, exhausted woman nursing the new royal cub.
Roxy let out a long, heavy exhale, her shoulders finally dropping. Now that the adrenaline of the parlor brawl had completely faded, a sharp, undeniable wave of guilt washed over her.
She looked up, her eyes tracing the rugged, but handso features of the Dragon King. Right along his sharp jawline, barely visible against his tanned skin yet unmistakable, was a faint red mark where her hand had caught him during her furious, frantic scolding.
Roxy’s heart gave a painful twinge. She shifted her free hand, reaching out to gently cup his rough cheek. Her thumb softly, apologetically caressed the blooming red mark on his face.
"I am sorry, Z," Roxy whispered, her voice thick with genuine remorse. "I shouldn’t have hit you like that in front of the children. I was just... so incredibly terrified when I saw Caspian bleeding. My temper got the absolute best of ."
Zarek didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned his heavy head into her delicate palm, his draconic pupils dilating with pure, unfiltered devotion. The terrifying warlord closed his eyes, completely lting under her gentle touch.
"Do not apologize, Roxann," Zarek rumbled, his deep voice vibrating through his broad chest. He turned his face slightly, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. "A hit from you is not a punishnt; it is a reminder that you care enough to correct . I do not mind the sting. I would take a thousand blows from your hands if it ant keeping your fiery spirit alive."
Roxy’s breath hitched. The sheer, uncompromising intensity of his love for her was incredibly disarming. It stripped away all her lingering defenses.
Unable to resist the pull of his devotion, Roxy leaned forward. She pulled him in, pressing her lips firmly against his.
Zarek responded instantly. His massive hand ca up to cradle the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her dark, ssy curls. The kiss was deep, slow, and incredibly grounding, a perfect, silent apology and acceptance woven together in the quiet intimacy of the bedroom.
When Roxy finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, a soft smile played on her lips. She looked down, expecting to see Tyara happily milk-drunk and dozing.
Instead, Roxy froze.
Tyara had completely stopped eating. The tiny, three-day-old White Tiger cub had unlatched from Roxy’s breast. But she wasn’t sleeping, and she wasn’t crying.
Tyara’s head was turned precisely to the side. Her eyes, so intensely reminiscent of Torian’s feral glare, were locked dead onto Zarek. The newborn cub wasn’t blinking. Her fluffy white ears were pinned flat against her head in a display of hostility.
She was just staying exactly where she was, watching the massive Dragon Alpha quietly, as if the two of them had a deeply personal, centuries-old beef.
Roxy stared at the baby, utterly bewildered, before a bright, lodic chuckle burst from her chest.
"What in the world?" Roxy laughed, looking back and forth between the tiny, glaring infant and the towering warlord. "Zarek, what on earth did you do to offend our baby Tyara? She looks like she wants to challenge you to a duel for the territory."
Zarek let out a low, incredibly amused snort. He leaned back on his hands, completely unbothered by the tiny cub’s lethal glare.
"She is a Tiger, Roxy," Zarek explained smoothly, a cocky, arrogant smirk curling his lips. "And I am a Dragon. Our bloodlines are ancient, and they are always at war. The eastern felines are incredibly territorial, but they are far too proud to accept the biological reality that they could easily be wiped off the surface of the world by the dragons of the peaks. Her instincts recognize my Aura, and her pride refuses to submit to it."
Roxy chuckled, carefully adjusting her silk robe to cover herself since the baby had clearly abandoned her al in favor of a staring contest. "Fair enough. Torian would probably say the exact sa thing in reverse."
Zarek scoffed at the ntion of the White Tiger. He shifted his massive fra closer, completely ignoring the glaring infant. The Dragon Alpha decided to completely abandon his stoic, terrifying persona in favor of being incredibly needy.
"I am wounded, my Queen," Zarek murmured, his eyes gleaming with a playful, utterly whipped desire. He leaned his face close to hers, acting exactly like a massive, brooding baby. "The feline is distracting you. I believe I require another kiss to heal the damage to my pride."
Roxy rolled her eyes at his blatant theatrics. "You are ridiculous," she teased, raising her hand and playfully slapping his thick, muscular thigh.
"Ah!" Zarek winced dramatically, his face twisting in exaggerated agony as he clutched his leg. "Roxy! The brutality!"
Roxy imdiately felt a sharp pang of guilt. She knew he was faking it, but the lingering remorse from her earlier outburst made her instantly cave.
"Oh, hush, you big baby," Roxy murmured fondly. She leaned in, entirely intending to grant his request and press another soft, lingering kiss to his pouting lips.
But the very microsecond the distance between Roxy and Zarek closed, the bedroom was shattered by sound.
"WAAAAAAH!"
Tyara let out a furious, ear-piercing shriek, her tiny fists violently punching the air.
Roxy gasped, imdiately withdrawing her face from Zarek’s and looking down in a panic. "Shh, baby, what’s wrong—?"
The absolute second Roxy pulled away from the Dragon King, Tyara snapped her mouth shut. The crying stopped instantaneously. The cub let out a grumpy little huff, her eyes returning to their lethal, unblinking glare at Zarek.
Roxy blinked in utter confusion. She looked at Zarek. He looked back at her, his draconic brow furrowed.
Slowly, testing a highly suspicious theory, Roxy leaned back in toward Zarek, her lips parting as if to kiss him again.
"WAAAAAAH!" Tyara scread, her fluffy ears flattening in pure outrage.
Roxy imdiately pulled back.
Tyara instantly went dead silent, looking incredibly satisfied with herself.
Roxy’s jaw dropped. A look of sheer, unadulterated disbelief washed over her face. She looked down at the tiny, fiercely possessive three-day-old infant, and then up at the flabbergasted Dragon Alpha.
"Zarek," Roxy stated, her voice caught between a laugh and a gasp of sheer shock. "Baby Tyara doesn’t want to kiss you. She’s literally acting up!"
Zarek stared at the tiny tiger cub, utterly dumbfounded. The sheer audacity of the infant completely short-circuited his Alpha logic. A flash of arrogant, draconic possessiveness flared in his eyes. He didn’t take orders from anyone, let alone a three-day-old feline.
"Who cares about the child?" Zarek grumbled carelessly, reaching out to pull Roxy back by her waist. "Let her cry. I could give you more children, Roxy. Better ones. Ones with wings."
Roxy’s playful deanor completely vanished. She slapped his hand away from her waist with a stinging force, her eyes narrowing into slits.
"Excuse ?" Roxy hissed, tossing him a glare so freezing it could have paralyzed a leviathan.
Zarek froze, imdiately realizing he had made a mistake.
"Don’t push your luck, you overgrown lizard," Roxy snarled, her voice vibrating with genuine fury. She pulled Tyara closer to her chest, shielding the cub from him. "Just because I love you does not an you can ever talk about my children that way. Tyara is my daughter. She is pack. If you ever dismiss her existence again, I will personally throw you off the Dragon Peaks. Do you understand ?"
Zarek felt a massive, suffocating wave of genuine guilt crash over him. His arrogant, careless words had genuinely hurt her, and the realization made his draconic heart twist in agony.
He completely dropped his pride, bowing his heavy head in imdiate, absolute submission.
"I am sorry, Roxy," Zarek backpedaled frantically, his voice thick with sincere repentance. "I spoke entirely out of turn. My jealousy clouded my judgnt. I swear to you, I will never speak of our daughter, or any of your children, with such disrespect again. Please forgive ."
Roxy stared at him for a long, heavy mont, ensuring the lesson had permanently etched itself into his thick skull. Finally, she let out a slow sigh, her rigid posture relaxing just a fraction.
"See that you don’t," Roxy muttered, gently rocking the now-smug-looking tiger cub.
Desperate to make ands and perform an act of service to soothe her lingering irritation, Zarek imdiately stood up from the bed.
"You must be thirsty," Zarek offered quickly, keeping his head respectfully lowered. "I will fetch so warm milk from the kitchens for you to drink while you rest. I will be right back."
Roxy offered a stiff, single nod of permission.
Zarek practically fled the room, desperate to prove his devotion. He returned barely five minutes later, carrying a beautifully crafted silver goblet filled with steaming, honey-sweetened warm milk. He approached the bed with extre caution, gently handing the goblet to Roxy.
"Thank you," Roxy murmured, her anger fully dissolved as she took the warm cup, taking a slow, comforting sip.
Zarek didn’t sit back on the bed. He remained standing near the edge of the mattress, his eyes tracing the exhausted, dark circles beneath her eyes. The playful banter and the chaotic argunts had successfully masked it.
"Roxy," Zarek started.
Roxy paused mid-sip, looking up at him over the rim of the silver goblet. "Yes, Z?"
Zarek’s brow furrowed deeply, his broad shoulders tensing as a heavy shadow of concern darkened his rugged features.
"You have been having bad dreams lately. Your heart rate spikes, and your scent turns to pure ash and fear before you settle again."
"Are you troubled?"
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