Morning settled slowly over the den, warm and muted, the kind of light that softened corners and made breath appear gentler. Kanah sat between Owain's legs, her back resting against his chest, wrapped in the heavy wolf-fur robe Yllas had brought earlier. The den door remained half-open; fresh air drifted in with the peaceful sounds of the village waking outside—soft speech, distant laughter, the rustle of beasts beginning their routines.
Inside, however, everything felt motionless. The world seemed to hover around them, holding its breath with a trembling patience.
Gerrin, Yllas, and Helion had withdrawn for a moment to prepare food and give Kanah privacy. But Owain remained with her, one arm securely around her waist, the other tracing slow circles across the back of her hand. Not affectionate in the casual sense—this was instinct. A quiet, relentless protection that came from deeper than thought.
Kanah tightened her hold on his arm, grounding herself.
The word hadn't been spoken yet—not the one hovering at the edges of everyone's thoughts—but even without it, her body felt full. Anchored. Something gentle shifted inside her every time she inhaled. She hadn't felt this way before—not even during heat, when everything had been raw and urgent.
This—whatever it was—felt like warmth settling into her bones.
Owain bent his head, brushing his cheek against her temple. She felt the warmth of his breath before she heard him speak.
"How's your body?" he murmured.
She took a moment to check. Her stomach didn't hurt, but it felt tight somehow—like warmth coiled low in her center. Her chest felt heavier too, as if something inside were preparing, building, adjusting. The feelings were all mild, small enough to ignore, but undeniable.
Kanah whispered, "Different. Still…"
She hesitated.
Owain hummed softly, a sound of patience.
"…still warm," she finished. "And a little heavy. Not bad."
He shifted his hold slightly—not to pull her closer but to cradle her more fully. "Anything sharp? Any discomfort?"
"No. Just…" She placed her hand over her lower stomach instinctively. "Pressure. But soft."
Owain's breath hitched for a single heartbeat, so brief most wouldn't catch it. Kanah felt it through his ribs pressed to her back.
But he didn't ask anything else. Not the question she knew he was holding. He was too careful, too respectful of her emotions.
She turned her head slightly, catching his golden eyes.
"You're scared to hope," she said softly.
He didn't deny it.
Owain's voice was low, rough. "I'm afraid you'll feel pressured if I say too much."
"You're not pressuring me."
His fingers tightened around hers. "You might not feel that now. But hope can be heavy too."
She leaned more fully into him. "Then we'll carry it together."
He closed his eyes, forehead resting against the side of her head. His wolf rumbled, a deep, quiet sound that made her bones vibrate. It wasn't a growl or purr—wolves didn't purr—it was instinctive recognition. Acceptance. Gratitude.
A moment later, there was a soft knock on the side of the den.
"Food is ready," Yllas called gently. "Only if Kanah feels up to it."
Owain didn't move. He let her decide.
Kanah breathed in slowly, testing her strength. She wasn't weak or dizzy—if anything, she felt stable. But emotionally… everything felt heightened.
"I can eat," she murmured. "Just… let's go slowly."
Owain helped her stand, careful and gentle. He swept a cloak around her shoulders—soft, thick wolf fur lined with the embroidery of his clan. Not just to warm her, but to signal to anyone outside that she was being shielded, watched, protected. A Queen in delicate condition, even before anything was confirmed.
Owain walked behind her with one hand low on her back, almost hovering. Not touching too firmly, but close enough for instinct to settle.
The Den Hall
When they stepped into the main hall, Yllas, Helion, and Gerrin stood up immediately. Not out of obligation—but instinctive respect. Kanah flushed, embarrassed, but none of them stared at her stomach, or her robe, or the faint signs of soreness in her steps.
Yllas bowed slightly. "Sit by the window. It's warm there."
Helion rushed to grab cushions, lining the seat with an exaggerated care that made even Owain stop breathing for a moment.
Gerrin set a warmed clay cup on the low table. "Herbal blend. For stabilizing mana. Safe for you no matter what we find later."
No one said the word. The absence of it filled the room as clearly as sunlight.
Kanah sat carefully, easing into the cushions. Owain crouched beside her at first, scanning every movement she made—as if checking for signs he might have missed. Only when she nodded at him to stop worrying did he sit beside her, though he remained close enough that their knees touched.
"So," Helion said brightly, too brightly, "I made breakfast."
He lifted lids from wooden bowls one by one. Fruit slices, thick bread still steaming, roasted root vegetables, sweetened grains, and broth made of bone and herbs.
Kanah blinked. "Helion… this is too much."
"It's not too much," the leopard said immediately, his tail flicking. "It's barely enough. You should be eating every—"
Owain shot him a warning look.
Helion cleared his throat. "Every… time you feel hungry. Not forcing anything. Obviously."
Yllas sat on her other side, wings half-folded behind him in calm, gentle posture. "If you need fresh air later, I can take you to the hot spring. It helps with soreness."
Kanah softened. "Thank you."
Gerrin settled across from them, watching her mana gently. His face remained calm, but the slightest crease of anticipation tugged at his brow.
Owain waited until she took her first sip before he reached for any food himself. His instinct demanded he watch her completely before tending to his own hunger. It was subtle, but clear.
Kanah ate slowly. Every mouthful tasted stronger than usual, her senses sharper. Halfway through the meal, she paused, frowning slightly.
Owain caught it instantly. "What's wrong?"
She pressed a hand to her chest. "Nothing bad. Just… my sense of smell feels different."
"How?" Gerrin leaned forward.
Kanah glanced around. "The fruit smells sweeter. The broth smells—stronger. Almost too strong."
Owain stiffened. Yllas's wings twitched. Helion's ears perked.
But she continued before any of them jumped to conclusions.
"It's not unpleasant," she said. "Just like someone turned the world up a little."
Owain lifted her hand to his lips. "Tell me if it overwhelms you. I can air out the room."
"I'm okay," she reassured.
Yet a quiet awareness spread through the group. They didn't say it aloud—but every beast in the room was sensitive to these small changes.
Yllas offered another bowl. "Do you want something lighter? I can prepare chilled fruits instead."
"No, this is good."
Helion nibbled on a piece of bread, watching her with bright emerald eyes. "Kanah… how's your energy?"
She rolled her shoulders gently. "Surprisingly steady."
Owain made a thoughtful noise. Not quite agreement, not quite disbelief—just marking her answer.
"I'm not dizzy," she added. "Not tired. Not nauseous."
Helion blinked. "Are you supposed to be nauseous?"
Owain elbowed him sharply.
"What?!" Helion hissed. "I'm asking a genuine question."
Gerrin rubbed his forehead. "You ask it too bluntly."
"I don't know human biology!" Helion hissed back.
Kanah laughed under her breath, the gentle sound easing some of the tension.
Yllas touched her shoulder lightly. "If you want the twins to stop bickering, just tell them."
Helion sputtered. "Twins?!"
Owain glared at them both. "Behave."
Gerrin cleared his throat. "Let Kanah finish eating first."
It was domestic. Warm. Light.
And Kanah's chest tightened at how quickly their home had shifted to accommodate her.
They weren't just hopeful—they were preparing themselves emotionally, instinctively, to care for her in a new way.
After Breakfast
Once she finished eating, Kanah leaned back into the cushions, her body heavy in the comfortable way. Owain brushed her hair back, fingers gentle.
"Rest," he said softly.
Kanah exhaled. "I just need a moment."
Helion stood abruptly. "I'll bring blankets."
"You brought five already," Yllas said, amused.
"Six is a better number!"
Owain massaged the bridge of his nose.
Gerrin checked the mana currents flowing around her. "Kanah… when I examine your mana, it feels like it's forming an additional layer."
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"It doesn't always mean anything specific," Gerrin said carefully. "But when humans or beasts undergo biological changes—long-term ones—their mana usually responds first."
Owain's grip on her hand tightened.
Gerrin didn't push further. He waved his hand above her stomach again, a faint soft glow responding to his mana sensing technique. His eyes softened.
"Your resonance isn't fluctuating anymore. It's… centering."
Kanah bit her lower lip. Her heart pounded. "Is that good?"
"It's excellent," Gerrin murmured.
Helion reappeared with two more blankets, dropping them over the pile. He crouched in front of Kanah, staring at her stomach with a reverent caution she'd only ever seen in beast mothers protecting their young.
"Kanah," he whispered softly, "May I…?"
Owain growled instantly.
Helion threw his hands up. "I wasn't going to touch her! I was going to look. There's a difference!"
Kanah laughed weakly. "It's okay, Owain. He's not touching me."
Owain reluctantly relaxed, though his arm slid around her waist protectively.
Helion leaned forward, studying her with keen eyes. Leopards were sensitive to changes in movement and breath—and Kanah didn't miss the moment his pupils widened slightly.
"…Your breathing pattern changed," he murmured, reverent. "Not much. Just… softer, deeper. Like your body is preserving energy."
Owain froze.
Yllas stilled completely.
Gerrin inhaled sharply.
Kanah's hand trembled slightly. "Is that… normal?"
Helion nodded slowly. "If it were me, I'd do the same thing. It's instinct. Preserve warmth. Preserve energy for… growth."
Owain's wolf pressed so close she felt his heartbeat shake through his chest.
"Don't rush," he whispered into her ear. "Don't let us rush you."
She swallowed. "I'm not afraid. Just… overwhelmed."
Gerrin placed a calming hand over his chest. "We will confirm in the next two days. But everything your body is showing is consistent with early… change."
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
Yllas folded his wings around himself in a gesture of awe. "If this continues… if your body keeps responding like this… Kanah, you may soon feel other symptoms."
"Like what?" she asked quietly.
"Fatigue," Gerrin said. "Increased warmth. Appetite shifts."
"Sensitivity to scents," Yllas added softly.
"Nesting instincts," Helion said with a grin. "That one's fun."
Owain tightened his hold. "Don't overwhelm her."
"I'm just preparing her!" Helion insisted.
Gerrin chuckled. "Your version of preparation usually involves chaos."
Kanah rubbed her stomach absently, surprised at how natural the motion felt. Not protective—not yet—but curious. A quiet wonder.
"I don't feel any of that right now," she said.
"You will," Owain murmured, kissing her temple.
Her breath hitched. Something in his tone felt like a promise. A hope too big for words.
She closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself.
When she opened them, Helion was sitting cross-legged in front of her like a child waiting for a story. Yllas was steeping another pot of tea, wings shifting in quiet patience. Gerrin was rechecking mana lines in the den, ensuring everything remained calm. And Owain… Owain was studying her with an intensity that made her heart melt—protective, reverent, terrified and hopeful at the same time.
Kanah whispered, "Owain."
He lifted his head slightly. "Yes?"
"…If it happens," she said, voice trembling just barely, "if I really… if we're really… you won't think I'm too fragile, right?"
Owain's expression cracked—relief and emotion flooding through his eyes so raw she felt it in her chest.
He cupped her cheeks, his forehead pressing against hers.
"Kanah," he whispered, voice steady and deep, "you've survived everything. You're the strongest person I've ever known."
His thumb stroked her cheekbone, gentle but firm.
"If you're carrying something"—he swallowed—"I won't think you're fragile. I'll think you're powerful."
She blinked rapidly. Her eyes warmed.
Owain continued, breath shaking.
"And I won't cage you. Not ever. I'll protect you—but I'll still trust you."
Kanah leaned into his touch, overwhelmed by the sincerity radiating from him.
Helion muttered under his breath, "He's going to make me cry first thing in the morning…"
Yllas smiled quietly. Gerrin wiped his eyes subtly.
Owain pulled her into his chest, arms secure around her back.
"You're not alone in this," he murmured against her hair. "Whatever your body is doing—whatever comes next—we're with you. All of us."
Kanah let herself melt into the embrace.
Because for the first time, hope didn't feel frightening.
It felt… right.
Warm.
Steady.
Possible.
Like the beginning of something gentle growing inside her.
Later That Afternoon
The group moved outside together, wanting to give Kanah fresh air without letting her out of sight. The village greeted them with quiet smiles—nothing loud or invasive, just respect. Wolves dipped their heads. Mothers cooking outside gave Kanah soft, understanding looks. Older beasts smiled knowingly.
No one said anything directly. No one asked.
But they saw Owain's protective posture.
Saw the way Kanah walked carefully.
Saw the cloak around her shoulders.
Saw the sub-mates circling her subtly.
And they understood without words.
Kanah sat beneath the shade of a large tree at the village center, the roots forming natural seats around it. Owain sat beside her, legs brushing hers. Helion stretched out like a lounging cat at her feet. Yllas sat behind her, letting her rest back against his knee and wing. Gerrin prepared gentle mana wards around the area, calming the air.
"This is too much attention," Kanah murmured softly.
Owain brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're a Queen. And you might be carrying the future ruler."
She froze.
Owain's eyes widened. "That wasn't pressure—I didn't mean—damn it—"
Kanah grabbed his arm. "It's okay."
He hesitated. "I didn't want to overwhelm you."
"You're not."
Helion lifted his head from her feet. "Besides, it's true."
Yllas added, "They would treat you gently even without the possibility."
Gerrin nodded. "Humans rarely carry beast heirs. It is a revered possibility."
Owain scowled softly. "We're not talking about heirs before anything is confirmed."
Kanah smiled faintly. "I appreciate your caution."
"And I appreciate your calm," he murmured.
Silence settled. Not heavy—just warm.
Kanah stroked her stomach absently again.
Yllas noticed. "Does it feel different?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "It doesn't hurt. It just… feels present."
Gerrin knelt beside her. "Presence is a good sign."
Owain's hand found her shoulder, grounding her.
A breeze passed through the clearing. Birds chirped softly in the branches. Young wolves raced past, laughing loudly, then paused mid-run to bow respectfully to Kanah before sprinting away.
Everything felt alive. Peaceful. Ready.
Kanah rested her head on Owain's shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper.
"…Owain."
He tilted his head. "Mm?"
"If it's real," she said quietly, "if there's a life inside me… will you be happy?"
Owain's breath left him in a single, shuddering exhale.
He turned her face toward him, cupped between both hands.
His voice did not tremble.
"It would be the greatest joy of my life."
Her throat tightened.
He kissed her forehead, lingering.
"But we honor the process," he added gently. "We honor your pace. Your comfort. Your body."
Kanah's vision blurred for a moment with warmth.
Yllas placed a hand on her back. Helion leaned against her knee. Gerrin checked her mana one more time.
Kanah breathed in slowly.
Her body answered with steady warmth.
Everything felt… good.
Everything felt safe.
Everything felt possible.
She looked at Owain, at the sub-mates, at the peaceful village around her.
She whispered, voice trembling with quiet happiness:
"…I think I want to hope too."
Owain's eyes softened in a way she'd never seen before—pure, overflowing relief.
Helion let out a celebratory hiss. Yllas smiled openly. Gerrin bowed his head in gratitude.
And Kanah leaned into Owain's chest again, letting herself feel the warmth blooming inside her.
Not confirmed.
Not certain.
But real enough to wrap her heart around.
Hope.