I don’t want to die.
My lungs burned like they were full of fire. Every nerve in my body scread as the Matriarch’s tail squeezed tighter around my throat. The edges of my vision narrowed, black spots blossoming like ink in the dark.
I kicked. I clawed. I twisted in every direction, desperate to break free. But nothing worked. Her grip was absolute.
This was it. This was the end.
Then—suddenly—the tail released.
I dropped like a stone, slamming into the dirt with a crunch. Pain shot up my ribs, but I didn’t care. Air surged back into my chest, jagged and violent. My body convulsed as I coughed so hard it felt like my lungs might claw their way out through my throat. Spittle and blood sprayed the ground.
For several seconds, I couldn’t even lift my head. My entire world was ragged gasps and burning pain, every breath scraping my throat raw.
But instinct forced my eyes up. I had to see why the Matriarch had let go.
My heart stuttered when I saw her gaze wasn’t on anymore.
A small figure padded into the clearing.
The Ember Fox I had saved.
Her fur glowed faintly under the moonlight, singed in patches from her fight with the badger, but alive. Sohow, impossibly, alive. She looked tiny next to her mother, fragile even. But her presence alone was enough to halt the Matriarch in her tracks.
"Daughter," the Matriarch breathed. Her guttural voice softened, trembling with relief.
She surged forward, her massive body lowering to nuzzle the kit’s fur. "You’re alive."
The little fox let out a soft trill, a sound sowhere between a chirp and a purr, leaning into her mother’s touch.
I blinked, dazed, still sprawled on the ground.
Nice timing, kid.
Had her appearance actually saved ? A fluffy miracle with tails?
I let out a shaky breath, half a laugh, half a wheeze. At this point, it felt like I had a stat in luck maxed out. Coincidences that kept alive, one after the other. How long was it going to last? I didn’t know—and I wasn’t stupid enough to rely on it.
Still... I tried my abilities again. [Warp]. [Leap]. Nothing. Dead, all of them. The restriction hadn’t lifted. Running was impossible. Even if the Matriarch’s back was turned, I knew she’d sense the mont I moved.
Yep. Best to stay very, very still.
The Matriarch pulled back slightly, molten eyes scanning her daughter from head to tail.
"What happened?"
The kit responded—not with words, but with a string of yips and chirps, her tails swishing like punctuation marks.
It should have been ridiculous. But the way the Matriarch leaned in, listening intently, nodding every so often, made it obvious she understood every sound.
So I just sat there, catching my breath, bruised and battered, watching like an idiot while mother and daughter conversed in so secret fox language. The only voice I heard was the Matriarch’s, repeating fragnts, but it was clear the kit’s side of the story mattered.
Then the little fox barked once, sharp and deliberate, and turned her head toward .
My heart skipped. Cold sweat ran down my back.
What the hell is she saying about ?
I doubted it was good. Kids and never got along, even when I’d been human. Now that I was a goblin—well, I didn’t exactly scream trustworthy babysitter material.
The Matriarch’s gaze followed her daughter’s. When her molten eyes locked back onto , her aura flared again, heat spiking through the clearing like a furnace door opening.
My gut clenched. My body scread to run, but my legs wouldn’t obey. I braced for death.
And then the kit yipped sharply, darting between us. She planted her tiny body right in front of , tails puffed like miniature flas, and barked furiously at her mother.
The Matriarch froze, eyes narrowing.
"You defend him?" Her voice carried disbelief.
The kit barked again, louder, more insistent. Her little fra quivered, but she didn’t move an inch.
The Matriarch’s gaze flicked between her daughter and , her aura flickering like a storm struggling to decide whether to break. Slowly, just slightly, the crushing pressure eased. The heat lingered, but the promise of instant death receded like coals smoldering under ash.
"He saved you," the Matriarch said at last, her tone uncertain.
The kit nodded.
I sagged in disbelief, relief washing over so hard I nearly collapsed outright.
The little fox was on my side.
She yipped again, tails curling behind her as she kept barking in that strange tongue.
I groaned, rubbing at the bruises around my throat. Yeah, yeah, keep talking, fluffball. Just... please don’t tell her how I almost killed you before changing my mind.
The Matriarch tilted her head, doubt flashing in her molten eyes.
"Are you certain?" Her voice was low, dangerous. "He is a goblin."
The word dripped venom, like my very existence was poison in her mouth.
The kit barked again, tails lashing with defiance. Her little eyes glead with stubborn fire as she yipped and yapped, pressing her point like she was scolding her own mother.
The Matriarch frowned, gaze shifting. "Despite knowing what he is? You want him."
Pause.
Want ?
The kit answered with a sharp nod, another bark.
What the hell was that supposed to an? Did my life really rest in the paws of a glowing furball half my size?
The Matriarch’s gaze returned to , her molten stare searing into my soul. Her aura rippled faintly, the threat of violence simring just beneath the surface.
I looked away imdiately. Not daring to et her eyes. Not after last ti.
Her lips peeled back, revealing fangs like glowing daggers. Her expression twisted between rage and worry, as if instinct and her daughter’s will were pulling her in opposite directions.
Finally, she growled.
"I cannot accept that!"
The words thundered through the clearing.
Accept what?
I didn’t understand what was happening.
But what I did know was this: the baby fox wasn’t moving. She stood her ground, staring her mother down with unwavering determination. For .
That had to be...
.
.
.
A/N:
Hi everyone. Just a quick heads-up: I’ve set up a new privilege tier for upcoming Chapters. While it’s updating, the new Chapters might not be imdiately visible or purchasable.
Everything will be unlocked normally once the update is complete, so please be patient—it won’t take long.
Thanks as always for your support!
User Comments
0 comments from readers