Chapter 206

Twenty five.

The number sat in my mind like a stone, heavy and impossible, refusing to be ignored. I counted them again, just to be sure, just to confirm the truth that had crept up on me without warning.

Atlas, Chase, Ryder, Jasper. Levy, Niku, Sikai. Tavren, Kaizen, Zarek. Syren, Vaelis, Rhyzar, Kaelor, Seraya, Nyssara, Elira. Seraphyna, Kalisseyani, Irysindra. Zhaevren, Kyrveth, Orsael, Vaeshira, Nyselle.

Twenty five children.

Back in my old world, ten children was considered a lot. People would stare, would whisper, would ask if you had lost your mind. Twenty was crazy, the stuff of legends, the kind of family that made the news. But twenty five? Twenty five was beyond comprehension, beyond reason, beyond anything I had ever imagined for myself.

And if I had to be technical about it, I still had two more mates who had not yet receive a child with me. Aureon and Eryx. Two more males, two more chances for conception, two more possibilities of adding to our already impossible family. And I’m barely twenty-seven! Still young if any of my mates decided to impregnate me again.

Who knows how many children I would have with them? Who knows where this would end?

A warm pair of arms wrapped around me from behind, and a familiar voice murmured against my ear. "What is on your mind, my love?"

Aureon. My young tiger prince. The youngest of my mates, the most eager to please, the most desperate to prove himself. He had grown into a magnificent male, strong and fierce, his fur a brilliant white marked with bold black stripes when he shifted, his golden eyes bright with intelligence and devotion even in his human form.

"Aureon," I said, leaning back into his embrace, "can you believe I already have twenty five children?"

He was quiet for a moment, his arms tightening around me. "Honestly," he admitted, "it is a bit crazy."

"A bit?"

"Very crazy," he amended. "Most beast females conceive once a year. Maybe twice, if they are fortunate. But you..." He shook his head, his breath warm against my neck. "The moment you get your cycle; you get pregnant within a month or two. Every single time. It is a bit farfetched. Unnatural, even."

"Unnatural?" I asked, slightly offended.

"Extraordinary," he corrected quickly. "It is extraordinary. But it is you. And what about you is ordinary?"

I knew he meant it as a compliment. I knew he was trying to be sweet, to reassure me, to tell me how special I was. But somehow, the words felt like a jab, like a reminder that I was different, other, strange. I had not asked to be different. I had not asked to be this fertile, this endlessly, relentlessly productive.

But accepting it was the only way forward. Accepting that I was obviously a different breed from the other females in this world, that my body worked in ways theirs did not, that my children came faster and easier and more often than anyone had expected.

"Come," I said, pulling away from his embrace. "Help me with the pups. Veylan is probably drowning in them."

Aureon laughed, following me. "Veylan is probably in heaven."

He was right. Veylan was in heaven.

He sat in the corner of the room, the five pups scattered around him, his face soft with adoration. The pups were so small still, so tiny, barely able to do anything but eat and sleep and squirm. But they were so cute. When they suckled at my breast, their little mouths working, their little tails wagging, their little eyes half-closed in bliss, it was so darn cute I could barely stand it.

"Time to go to the lagoon," I announced, gathering the pups into a carrying sling.

"The lagoon?" Veylan asked.

"The Pearlings cannot come up yet, so we must bring the pups down to them. They need to meet their siblings."

Veylan nodded, understanding. "Let me help you carry them."

Aureon decided to play with the older boys, says he needs to exercise, says he feeling a bit lazy. So Veylan and I went together, the pups nestled safely in their sling, Caelion met us halfway, his face lighting up at the sight of us, and he quickly pressed his hands to Veylan’s face and to the pups’ sling, weaving the air bubbles that would let them breathe and stay dry in the depths. Veylan nodded his thanks, his silver eyes bright with gratitude, and we continued down together.

The Pearlings were five months now, so big, so spirited, so full of life. They swam circles around me the moment I appeared, their azure hair streaming, their tiny tails flicking with excitement.

"Mama! Mama! Mama!"

Their voices sang in my mind, overlapping, joyful, eager. And then they saw the sling, and they stilled, their eyes going wide.

Caelion finally spoke after we were all safely down to the lagoon floors, "They are perfect," he said, his voice full of wonder. "So small. So fierce. So beautiful."

"They are wolf pups," I said. "Like their father."

"They are ours," Caelion corrected, his eyes soft. "That is all that matters."

The Pearlings gathered around, their faces pressed to the outside of the pups’ air bubbles, watching the tiny creatures with awe.

"Mama," Irysindra’s voice came, soft and wondering. "Are they our siblings?"

"Yes, sweetheart," I said. "These are your new siblings. Mama just had them a few nights ago. You are older now. You must love them and protect them when they are in danger."

"What can we do?" Seraphyna asked, her voice ringing with frustration. "We are stuck in here."

"That is true for now," I agreed. "But soon you will be like your older sister. Able to shift. Able to walk on land."

"I wonder how the land feels," Kalisseyani pouted. "Daddy never lets us go up."

"That is because it is dangerous for you girls right now," I explained. "Until you are able to shift, you must stay down here."

"We know," came all three singsong voices, resigned and patient and utterly, impossibly sweet.

I laughed, reaching out to touch each of their faces, to kiss each of their foreheads. My daughters. My beautiful, impossible, mermaid daughters. And my pups, my silver pups, their tiny bodies warm against my chest.

Twenty five children. Twenty five souls. Twenty five reasons to keep living, to keep fighting, to keep loving. And two more mates still waiting to add to the number. I was not ordinary. I was not normal. But perhaps that was alright. Perhaps, in this strange and beautiful world, extraordinary was exactly what I was meant to be.

---

After spending a while with the Pearlings and Caelion, laughing as they played and cooed over their new siblings, I finally climbed back up to the surface, my heart full and warm. The sun was setting by the time we reached home, painting the sky in soft shades of gold and rose, and my breasts ached with the familiar heaviness that told me it was time to feed.

The moment we stepped inside, the youngest pup, Nyselle, lost her patience entirely.

She had been fine in the lagoon, quiet and content in her bubble, watching the water and her sisters with wide, curious eyes. But the moment she sensed the breast was near, and that her siblings would get to it first, she erupted into furious, indignant cries that filled the entire house.

"You are angry," I said, laughing as I settled onto the cushions and gathered the pups into my arms. "You are so angry, little one. So small and so very, very angry."

Nyselle wailed louder, her tiny body trembling, her little mouth opening and closing with outrage. She had a pipe on her, this one, a voice that could wake the dead. If she had been last in the womb, she was determined to be first at the breast, and she would not be quiet until she got what she wanted.

"Patience," Veylan murmured, kneeling beside me, his hand stroking her silver fur. "Patience, little storm. Mama is here. You will be fed."

But Nyselle did not want to hear about patience. She wanted to be first, and she wanted to be fed now, and she did not care that Mama was human and only had two breasts and could not possibly feed five pups all at once.

Two of the older pups, Zhaevren and Kyrveth, latched on first, their tiny mouths working with eager contentment, their little tails wagging. Nyselle watched them with an expression of profound betrayal, her cries rising in pitch and volume, her small body shaking with outrage. Her siblings were eating. She was not. The injustice of it was clearly unbearable.

"Look at her," I laughed, shifting the two pups to make room. "She has a temper, this one."

"She gets it from you," Veylan said, grinning.

"She gets it from you," I shot back.

He did not argue, simply kissed my temple and lifted the two full pups away, replacing them with the next pair, Orsael and Vaeshira. And still Nyselle cried, watching, waiting, her fury building with every moment she was denied.

"See?" Veylan told her, his voice gentle. "Your siblings are eating. You will eat too. Just wait your turn."

Nyselle cried harder.

I laughed, the sound bright and tired and happy, and finally, when the fourth pup have had enough, I shifted Nyselle to my breast. The moment she latched on, the crying stopped, replaced by frantic, satisfied suckling, her little body relaxing into bliss.

"There," I said, stroking her head. "There, my love. See? You were not forgotten. Mama would never forget you."

I could have fed her first, of course. It would have been easier. But that would have taught her that crying got her what she wanted, and that was simply not the case. She needed to learn patience. She needed to learn that the world did not always revolve around her, that her siblings mattered too, that waiting was not the same as being forgotten.

So I let her cry. And she cried. And she learned.

Veylan watched us, his silver eyes soft, his expression one of such profound love and contentment that it made my chest ache. He had wanted this. He had feared this. And now, watching me feed our children, his children, his face held the kind of peace that only came from a wish finally, fully granted.

"You are staring," I said.

"I know," he admitted, not looking away.

"It is rude."

"I know," he said again, and smiled. "But it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. You. Them. This. I could watch forever and never grow tired of it."

I blushed, though I had no idea why, after everything, after all the times he had seen me bare, he still had the power to make me blush. "You are soft, Veylan."

"Only for you," he said. "Only ever for you."

The pups fed, one by one, until all five were full and sleepy and content. Veylan gathered them carefully, tucking them into their basket with the tenderness of a male who had finally found his purpose. And then he crawled onto the bed beside me, pulling me into his arms, his face buried in my hair.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?"

"For them. For this. For not giving up on me when I was afraid."

I turned in his arms, my hand finding his cheek. "You were worth the wait," I said. "You were always worth the wait."

And we lay there together, the pups sleeping in their basket, the sunset fading to dusk, our family complete and whole and perfect.

For now.

For now, this was everything.