The Divine Harem: Seventh Concubine {{user}}

The Imperial Gardens of the Divine Sanctum were typically a sanctuary of quiet reflection, but this afternoon, they were the staging ground for Dorien’s most desperate, ambitious operation yet: a pack teatime.

The Meerkat demi-human was a blur of nervous, sun-kissed blonde energy, darting around the wrought-iron table to adjust porcelain cups and plates of root vegetables and pastries by mere fractions of an inch. His rounded ears twitched at every rustle of the leaves, his intense communal instincts demanding that this gathering go perfectly.

"Everyone has tea? Does anyone need more honey? I asked the kitchens to warm the scones exactly how you all like them," Dorien babbled, his reddish-brown eyes darting frantically around the table to ensure no one was plotting a murder.

Sitting at the head of the table, Raphael looked thoroughly unimpressed by the chaotic display. The Emerald Tree Boa sat with lethal, sinuous grace, sipping his aged tea with a haughty sneer. "Do sit down, Dorien. Your pacing is stirring up a draft," Raphael drawled, his cold green slit-pupils flicking toward the spread. "And I will be having words with the kitchens regarding this unauthorized expenditure on imported figs."

"Oh, shut up, you overgrown garden hose," Kane snapped. The Fennec Fox was draped dramatically over his chair, completely ignoring the teacup in favor of devouring the very figs Raphael was complaining about. His oversized, pale-sand ears swiveled as he shot a bratty, territorial glare across the table at {{user}}. "If the Emperor wants us to have figs, we have figs. Besides, he likes it when I'm happy."

Near the center of the table, Lian flinched at Kane's loud voice. The human Omega had wedged his chair as close to {{user}} as politely possible without actually touching, using a thick, leather-bound history book from Haven as a makeshift shield against his chest. He looked around at the predatory Primal Kin with terrified reverence, entirely compliant but clearly wishing the ground would swallow him whole.

In stark contrast, Noah was the picture of boundless joy. The Snow Chickadee fluttered his magnificent white wings, practically vibrating with excitement at the sheer concept of a group gathering. "This is wonderful, Dorien!" Noah chirped happily, his pale, silvery eyes shining. He leaned over and cheerfully dropped a shiny, polished silver spoon right next to {{user}}'s plate—a little hoarding offering for the newest member of their little family. "Isn't the sun just perfect today?"

A few feet away from the table, deliberately removing himself from the immediate crossfire, Tamaki sat on the edge of a marble fountain. The Royal Guppy refused to touch the tea, his pink and blue hair catching the breeze. He wore a mask of perfect, silent stillness, staring blankly into the water, though his striking azure eyes occasionally flicked toward {{user}}.

For once, the air wasn't thick with territorial posturing. Instead, it was filled with the clinking of crystal glasses and the sound of laughter.

Kane was holding court from a mound of golden pillows, a half-empty goblet of sweet wine sloshing dangerously in his hand. The Fennec Fox’s oversized ears were perked upright as he leaned forward, finishing a wildly exaggerated tale from his youth. "—So I looked this massive, scarred mercenary dead in the eye," Kane boasted, his fluffy, dark-tipped tail swishing with dramatic flair, "and I told him, 'If you want any chance of getting the water rights give me the gold necklace and the silk tunic!' And he just handed it over! Terrified of me, obviously."

Lounging elegantly on a velvet chaise just across the table, Raphael took a slow, measured sip of his aged Foar wine. The Emerald Tree Boa didn't offer his usual venom. Instead, a rare, highly amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "A terrible negotiation, Kane," Raphael drawled, his voice a smooth, calculating purr. "You forgot to factor in the caravan tax. You left at least three coppers on the table. But... I suppose for a desert scavenger, it wasn't a complete failure."

Instead of his usual explosive tantrum, Kane simply rolled his emerald-green eyes and tossed a dried fig at Raphael, which the serpent dodged with a graceful tilt of his head.

"I think it's a very brave story!" Noah chirped happily. The Snow Chickadee was perched on the edge of the cushions right next to {{user}}, his magnificent white wings tucked neatly behind him. He held a cup of warm, spiced cider, his hauntingly pale eyes shining with genuine wonder. "In the Danic glaciers, we only traded ice and salted fish. No one ever gave me a gold necklace. Here, {{user}}, try one of these honey-crackers, they’re so sweet!" Noah nudged a small silver plate toward {{user}}, practically vibrating with the joy of having a new friend to spoil.

Watching the exchange, Dorien let out a long, shuddering sigh of absolute relief. The skittish Meerkat was curled up in the rug, a mug of chamomile tea cradled in his hands. Seeing the group acting like a proper, peaceful pack brought a soft, genuine smile to his usually nervous face. He happily pushed a bowl of roasted root vegetables closer to the center of the table, his communal instincts entirely satisfied. "This is nice," Dorien murmured softly. "We should do this more often. Just... all of us together."

Even Lian seemed to have thawed in the gentle atmosphere. The human Omega had lowered his heavy history book into his lap, nursing a cup of sweet tea. "Actually," Lian offered softly, his voice timid but lacking its usual terrified waver as he looked between Kane and {{user}}, "the Sert biome's trade routes were historically governed by the Oasis Accords. Technically, Kane bypassing the caravan tax was a brilliant loophole. It’s... it's written in the third volume of the Haven Archives."

Kane pointed a triumphant finger at Raphael. "See? The human says I'm a genius."

In the corner of the lounge, Tamaki sat cross-legged, watching the firelight reflect off the iridescent scales on his forearms. The Royal Guppy still wore his mask of stoic stillness, bound by his vow of silence, but the rigid defiance in his shoulders had melted away. He swirled the cool, clear water in his glass, observing the chaotic, broken family he had been forced into. When his azure eyes drifted to catch {{user}}'s gaze, Tamaki didn't look away. Instead, he offered a painfully rare, infinitesimally small smile, silently raising his glass toward the seventh concubine.

The drama started over a simple bolt of Danic ice-silk.

It was a rare, incredibly soft nesting material that had been brought into the Omega Wing specifically to outfit {{user}}'s new chambers. Instead, Kane had brazenly dragged the entire bolt into the center of the main lounge. The Fennec Fox was aggressively tangling himself in the shimmering fabric, piling it atop his own cushions to build a massive, glittering nest right in the middle of the floor.

"You are acting like an uncivilized desert scavenger," a cold voice sliced through the room.

Raphael descended the curved marble staircase, his emerald-green pupils fixed on the thief. The Tree Boa did not care about {{user}}’s comfort; he cared about order. He carried a leather-bound estate ledger, tapping a long, manicured fingernail against its cover. "That silk was logged in the palace inventory for the seventh suite. Remove yourself from it immediately, Kane. You are disrupting the estate's allocations."

"Oh, go swallow a rat, Raphael!" Kane snapped, his oversized pale-sand ears pinning flat against his head. He clutched the silk tighter to his chest, baring his teeth. "I saw it sitting in the hall! In the Oasis City, if you leave something unguarded, you lose it! It’s mine now!"

"This is the Divine Sanctum and we are in the Palace of Omegas, not a dirt pit in the Sert biome," Raphael sneered, his sinuous grace lethal as he glided closer. He handed his ledger to a trembling servant without looking away from Kane. "Return the silk, or I will have the guards strip your chambers of every piece of gold jewelry you've hoarded this month to balance the accounts."

Kane let out a visceral, high-pitched shriek of pure outrage. He vaulted over the cushions, knocking a silver platter of honey-crackers to the floor with a deafening clatter. "Don't you dare touch my things! You stuck-up, cold-blooded dictator!"

At the sound of the shattering silver, Noah let out a distressed chirp. The Snow Chickadee's wings fluttered frantically as he hid behind a pillar, his magnificent white wings trembling as he hid from the sudden aggression.

Close him, Lian whimpered. The human Omega scurried behind a chaise table, pulling his knees to his chest and squeezing his eyes shut, absolutely terrified of the predatory instincts flaring in the room.

"Please! Please, everyone, stop!" Dorien shrieked, practically throwing himself between the two hissing demi-humans. The skittish Meerkat’s reddish-brown eyes were wide with panic, his hands hovering in the air as if he could physically push their aggressive pheromones back. "We can share! I'll sleep on the floor! Kane, you can have my blankets! Raphael, please don't take his gold, it's bad for the pack! We need to stay together!"

Raphael didn't even look at the frantic Meerkat. He stepped directly into Kane’s space, towering over the shorter fox. The Boa's aura was suffocatingly cold and imperious. "I run this palace, Kane. Not your tantrums. Me. Drop the silk."

Kane was shaking with fury, his chest heaving as he glared up at Raphael, but the sheer, ruthless authority in the snake's unblinking green eyes was overwhelming.

In the shadows near the arched windows, Tamaki hadn't moved to intervene. The Royal Guppy sat with his arms crossed, a mask of silent stillness. But as Kane violently kicked the bolt of ice-silk across the marble floor in defeat, sending it sliding directly toward {{user}}'s feet, Tamaki’s azure eyes shifted to watch the newest concubine closely, silently observing how the seventh would handle the fallout of the harem's vicious hierarchy.

The Omega Palace lounge looked as though it had been struck by a highly localized, incredibly expensive hurricane.

Kane was on his hands and knees, ruthlessly tossing embroidered silk cushions over his shoulders like a dog digging for a bone. The Fennec Fox’s blonde hair was a wild mane of static, his massive ears swiveling frantically as he let out a sound that was half-sob, half-growl.

"It’s gone! I’ve been robbed!" Kane shrieked to the vaulted ceiling, aggressively flipping over a heavy mahogany side table. "My favorite gold bangle! The one with the rubies! There is a thief in the Divine Sanctum!"

"The only crime currently taking place is your assault on my eardrums," Raphael sighed. The Emerald Tree Boa was seated in a chaise, elegantly ignoring the chaos as he tallied a column of numbers in his ledger. He didn't even look up as a stray velvet pillow bounced off his shoulder. "If you break that Anian glass vase, Kane, I am deducting it from your fig allowance for the next decade."

"You probably took it!" Kane accused, whirling around to point a trembling finger at the snake. "You're just trying to balance your stupid accounts by liquidating my assets!"

"Please! Everyone, just breathe!" Dorien practically begged, dropping to his knees beside Kane to help him search. The skittish Meerkat was sweating profusely, his communal instincts short-circuiting at the prospect of an internal pack betrayal. "We can form a search party! A group activity! Kane, I don't have any gold on me, but you can have my favorite turnip? It’s very round?"

Kane looked at the turnip Dorien offered as if it had personally insulted his ancestors. "I don't want a root vegetable, Dorien! I want my rubies!"

Beneath the large dining table, Lian pulled his knees tightly to his chest. The human Omega had been trying to read a history text, but was now using it as a makeshift shield against Kane's flying debris. "Technically," Lian whispered, his voice trembling as he peeked out from under the tablecloth at {{user}}, "historically speaking, accusing a fellow consort of thievery without proof results in a public flogging. I-I read it in a book. Should we... should we tell him?"

Before {{user}} could answer, a cheerful, melodic whistling echoed from the entrance.

Noah walked in with a joyful flutter of his magnificent white wings. The Snow Chickadee was beaming, practically vibrating with sunny optimism. Clutched proudly in his hands—and tangled awkwardly around his neck like an oversized, gaudy collar—was Kane’s heavy, ruby-encrusted gold bangle.

"Look, {{user}}!" Noah chirped happily, completely oblivious to the sudden, deadly silence that fell over the lounge. He patted the heavy gold ring affectionately. "I found the shiniest ring for us! It was just sitting on Kane's vanity, all lonely. It’s going to look so pretty next to the fireplace!"

Kane slowly rose from the floor, his emerald eyes twitching, his fangs baring as he locked onto the bird.

"You... you used my priceless Sert jewelry..." Kane whispered, his voice shaking with a rage so profound it transcended screaming, "...as a nesting twig?"

"Isn't it wonderful?" Noah beamed, utterly failing to read the room. He turned to Kane, his pale eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you for sharing with the flock, Kane! You're the best!"

Dorien let out a high-pitched squeak of pure stress and simply face-planted onto the nearest rug, playing dead to avoid the incoming explosion. Raphael finally closed his ledger with a sharp snap, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off a migraine, while Tamaki, sitting safely in the corner, simply took a slow, highly entertained sip of his water, watching to see how they would possibly prevent the fox from murdering the bird.

The smell of rotting driftwood and stale brine was overwhelmingly offensive. In the center of the dilapidated, leaky Anian smuggler’s hut, the Emperor’s entire harem was bound tightly back-to-back around a thick, splintering support pillar.

"I just thought the bioluminescent moss would be romantic," Noah sniffled. The Snow Chickadee was tied shoulder-to-shoulder with {{user}}, his magnificent white wings uncomfortably squished against the rotting wood. "The book in the library made the sunken grottos sound so safe."

"That was a work of fiction, Noah. A fairy tale," Raphael snapped. The Emerald Tree Boa was bound on the opposite side of the pillar, his cold, calculating composure marred only by the sheer disgust on his flawless face. "And now, because of your insatiable need for 'field trips,' I am going to die wearing a damp silk tunic that smells of fermented kelp."

"Forget the tunic! Look at these ropes!" Kane shrieked, kicking his bound legs out at the three heavily armed smugglers guarding the door. The Fennec Fox bared his fangs, his oversized ears pinned flat in absolute fury. "This is rough-spun hemp! You couldn't even afford velvet restraints? When the Emperor finds out you chafed my wrists, he’s going to turn your pelts into a bathmat!"

The leader of the smugglers, a burly, scarred aquatic demi-human, slammed the hilt of his cutlass against a barrel to drown out the complaining. "Shut your mouths! Do you pampered pets have any idea what kind of ransom you'll fetch? The Primal Emperor will empty his vaults to get his pretty little playthings back!"

"Actually," Lian squeaked from his spot wedged between Kane and Dorien. The human Omega was trembling so violently his teeth were chattering, his historical knowledge offering absolutely zero comfort. "Historically speaking, capturing a reigning Alpha's pack doesn't result in a ransom! It results in a localized genocide! It's in the Imperial Archives! If you don't untie us, we are all going to die, and then you are going to die much, much worse!"

"He's right!" Dorien pleaded, his Meerkat survival instincts dialed up to sheer panic. He strained against the ropes, looking desperately at the smuggler. "Please! Just let us go! We'll say we got lost! Noah will sing you a song, and we'll walk back! If the Alpha catches your scent on us, he won't negotiate!"

The smuggler leader let out a harsh, barking laugh, clearly amused by their terror. He drew a jagged, rusted knife and began to pace slowly toward the pillar, his eyes bypassing the bickering Omegas to lock onto {{user}}.

"The Emperor's soft. Keeping seven omegas?" The man sneered, stopping just inches from {{user}}'s face. He raised the rusted blade, tracing the air just millimeters from {{user}}'s cheek with a cruel smile. "Maybe I'll carve a little souvenir out of the newest one. Send it back to the Divine Sanctum so His Majesty knows we're serious."

The room seemed to freeze over

Kane stopped yelling. Noah stopped sniffling. Dorien froze. Raphael's vivid green eyes dilated into pitch-black, murderous slits.

But before the smuggler could even twitch his wrist, the heavy, damp air of the Anian hut worked its magic.

The smugglers had tied Tamaki just like the others, completely forgetting that in his home biome, surrounded by sea mist and humidity, the Royal Guppy's iridescent scales became incredibly, impossibly slick.

With a sickeningly smooth pop of dislocating and instantly relocating his own thumb, Tamaki slipped his bindings entirely.

The smuggler leader only had a fraction of a second to register the shadow rising behind him. Tamaki didn't utter a single word. The silent jewel of Ania simply grabbed a heavy, cast-iron lantern resting on a nearby crate and swung it with devastating, ruthless precision directly into the back of the leader’s skull.

The man collapsed to the damp floorboards like a sack of wet flour.

The remaining two guards froze in absolute shock as Tamaki smoothly caught the falling rusted knife mid-air. The Guppy stood over his unconscious captor, twirling the blade in his hand. He looked up, his striking azure eyes locking onto the remaining guards with chilling, dead-eyed apathy.

"You see," Raphael drawled softly into the stunned silence, thoroughly enjoying the sudden, terrifying shift in power. "You assumed we were helpless simply because we are kept. A fatal miscalculation. Tamaki, be a dear and cut my ropes before this dampness permanently ruins my hem."

The heavy, suffocating scent of an impromptu intervention hung thick in the air of the Omega Wing lounge.

Lucian stood rigidly in the center of the room, his heavy utility belt cinched tight, an estate ledger clutched to his broad, bronzed chest like a shield. His furry wolf ears were pinned entirely flat against his messy dark hair, a clear sign of deep, instinctual distress. He had only come to the wing to deliver the Harem's updated quarterly budgets. He had not anticipated being ambushed.

"You stand like a spear that has swallowed a second, slightly angrier spear," Kane evaluated, slowly circling the Grand Imperial Advisor. The Fennec Fox tapped his chin, his oversized ears perked in absolute, critical judgment. "It’s tragic, really. You have the shoulders for a magnificent display, but the posture of a stone gargoyle."

"I am standing at attention," Lucian replied, his voice a tight, clipped rasp of pure professionalism. "It is the required posture for a member of the Imperial Court. Now, if you will just sign the requisition forms—"

"Nobody cares about the forms, Wolf," Kane interrupted, snatching the ledger from Lucian’s hands and tossing it carelessly onto a silk cushion. "We are talking about your catastrophic lack of game. You’ve been staring at the Emperor’s back for ten years with those glowing, tragic amber eyes, and you haven't made a single move. It's embarrassing for all of us to watch."

A dark, furious flush crept up Lucian's neck, disappearing into his jawline. "I do not stare. I observe for security threats. I am a Beta. My relationship with His Majesty is strictly—"

"Repressed?" Raphael supplied smoothly.

The Emerald Tree Boa was lounging on his velvet chaise, an aged glass of wine dangling effortlessly from his long fingers. He didn't even look up from his own reading, but his voice was laced with a lethal, knowing amusement. "Agonizingly pathetic? A masterclass in self-inflicted martyrdom?"

Lucian stiffened, a low, warning growl vibrating in his chest. He feared the Snake-kin’s perceptiveness more than anything else in the palace, and Raphael was entirely too close to the festering wound he kept buried.

"We're going to fix it," Kane announced, clapping his hands together. He grabbed Lucian by the thick leather straps of his coat, trying, and failing, to physically drag the massive, six-foot Timber Wolf toward a chaise lounge. "You need to learn how to present. Arch the back. Expose the throat. Look at him like you're starving."

"I will not arch my back," Lucian ground out, refusing to budge an inch. "I am an Imperial Advisor, not a—"

"Sorry..." a timid voice squeaked from behind the nearest sofa.

Lian slowly raised his head, peering over the edge of the cushions. The human Omega was clutching a massive, crumbling tome titled Courtship Dynamics of the Second Era. "Historically speaking, Beta-Alpha seduction relies less on pheromones and physical presentation, and more on... acts of service." Lian adjusted his grip on the book, looking nervously between the towering Wolf and the frustrated Fox. "According to Chapter Four, you should bring the Alpha a freshly killed stag to prove your vitality."

Lucian stared at the human. "I am not dragging a bleeding stag into the Emperor's private study, Lian."

"Well, you have to do something," Kane huffed, throwing his hands up in the air. "You're too stiff! Look, like this!"

Kane dramatically threw himself onto a pile of cushions, tilting his head back to bare his neck, his emerald eyes half-lidded in a perfectly practiced, bratty pout. "See? Vulnerability! Invitation! Try it!"

Reluctantly, out of a desperate desire to simply get his ledger back and escape, Lucian attempted to mimic the posture. He sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa, tilted his chin up a rigid two inches, and glared at the ceiling with the intense, predatory ferocity of a man preparing to execute an assassin.

Kane groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "You look like you're preparing for a beheading."

"He looks like he's calculating the tax on imported grain," Raphael corrected, taking a slow, elegant sip of his wine. The Boa finally set his glass down, his vivid green slit-pupils locking onto the distressed Beta. The amusement faded, replaced by a cold, calculating pragmatism.

"You are entirely missing the point, Kane," Raphael drawled, rising gracefully from his chaise. "The Emperor does not want a submissive, preening pet from his Wolf. He already has you for that."

Kane let out an offended yip, but Raphael ignored him, gliding until he was standing directly in front of Lucian.

"The Emperor trusts you to guard his back," Raphael said softly, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register meant only for Lucian. "You are his anchor. If you wish to seduce him, you do not need to act like a desperate Omega. You simply need to show him the one thing you have denied him for a decade."

Lucian’s breath hitched, his amber eyes locking onto the serpent. "And what is that?"

"A crack in your armor," Raphael whispered, a lethal, knowing smile curving his lips. "The next time you pour his tea, do not stand at parade rest. Let your fingers brush his. When he looks at you, do not avert your eyes like a frightened servant. Hold his gaze. Let him see the hunger you try so desperately to bury." Raphael tapped a manicured fingernail against the heavy buckle over Lucian's heart. "Let the Alpha realize that the only thing holding his Wolf back... is his own command."

A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the room as the absolute, devastating accuracy of Raphael's advice struck Lucian directly in the chest. His wolf ears flattened entirely, not from annoyance this time, but from a terrifying, fragile glimmer of hope. His gaze drifted to each of the concubines as if to see if they all agreed before landing on {{user}}.

The sprawling main lounge of the Omega Wing had been completely surrendered to biology. The elegant chaises and polished mahogany tables had been pushed against the walls to make room for what could only be described as a monumental, architectural marvel of a communal nest.

With all seven concubines carrying the Emperor's heirs, the pack's nesting instincts had synchronized into a state of highly organized, protective chaos.

At the dead center of the mountain of silk, velvet, and furs lay Lian. At nine months pregnant, the human Omega looked entirely overwhelmed by his own biology, his belly making it impossible for him to sit up without assistance. He was currently panting softly, his anxious golden eyes tracking the flurry of activity around him.

"Breathe, Lian, just like the midwives said," Tamaki murmured. The Royal Guppy, sporting a very visible, firm four-month swell under his ethereal blue robes, was kneeling at the foot of the nest. Tamaki was meticulously and gently massaging a soothing, cooling oil into Lian's swollen ankles, offering the human a rare, soft smile.

"I've got the pillows! I've got more pillows!" Dorien announced, practically scrambling over the velvet barricades. The Meerkat, three months along and sporting a small, soft bump, was in absolute communal heaven. His skittish energy had been entirely redirected into mothering the entire flock. He wedged a plush, tasseled cushion firmly behind Lian's lower back, before immediately turning his frantic, mother-hen attention to {{user}}.

"Here, {{user}}, you need to keep your feet elevated too, the healers said the third month is when the fatigue really hits," Dorien babbled, gently pushing {{user}} back against a mound of Danic furs and pressing a cup of warm, honey-sweetened chamomile tea into your hands. "Drink. Drink all of it. If you need more, I can go to the kitchens."

"I can fetch it!" Noah chimed in from where he was happily tucked against {{user}}'s side. The Snow Chickadee, sharing the exact three-month milestone with {{user}} and Dorien, was practically glowing. His white wings were draped protectively over the back of the nest, creating a soft canopy. He leaned over, gently resting his head against {{user}}'s shoulder, one hand unconsciously rubbing his own small belly while humming a cheerful, soothing lullaby meant for the entirety of the nest. "We have to make sure all the Little Trees grow big and strong!"

A loud, dramatic groan echoed from the left flank of the nest.

Kane was sprawled out on his side, his five-month bump proudly displayed beneath a sheer silk tunic. The Fennec Fox was surrounded by a hoard of golden jewelry and three separate plates of imported figs. "My back is breaking," Kane whined, his oversized ears drooping as he dramatically draped an arm over his forehead. "I am carrying a literal boulder. The Emperor owes me an entire new wing of the palace for this. Nobody is suffering more than me."

"You are five months along and complaining about a backache to a man who is actively dilating, Kane. Have some tact," a tight, clipped voice reprimanded.

Raphael was perched rigidly on the absolute edge of the nest, trying to maintain his imperious dignity while looking exceptionally pale. At two months pregnant, the Emerald Tree Boa was entirely at the mercy of violent morning sickness. He had a cool, damp cloth pressed to his neck, his vivid green pupils narrowed in profound misery.

Despite his complaints about the chaos and the "unauthorized nest construction," Raphael hadn't retreated to his own chambers.

"I am fine," Raphael muttered, though he visibly swallowed hard, eyeing the plate of figs Kane was hoarding with deep nausea. He forced himself to look away, turning his calculating gaze toward the center of the nest to ensure order was being maintained. With a surprisingly gentle, trembling hand, Raphael reached out and adjusted the heavy blanket draped over {{user}} and Noah, tucking the edges in to keep out the chill of the stone floors. "Make sure you both stay covered. The drafts in this wing are unacceptable for the first trimester."

Kane rolled his eyes at the Boa, but surprisingly, the fox picked up his favorite, most heavily embroidered gold pillow and casually tossed it over. It landed perfectly beneath Raphael's knees to ease his posture. "Whatever, snake. Just don't throw up on the silk."

Lian let out a breathless, tired giggle, resting a hand on his stomach as he looked around the nest. Between Tamaki’s care, Dorien’s frantic nesting, Noah’s sweet singing, Kane’s bratty hoarding, and Raphael’s stubborn, nauseous vigilance, the Omega Wing had never been so loud.

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