The dark, agonizing terror that violently seized Drax’s face was the absolute last thing Roxy saw before the suffocating wave of pain completely consumed her vision.

The teenage King scooped his mother entirely into his arms before she could even slip another inch toward the blackened stone.

"Guards!" Drax roared, his voice tearing through the quiet night air, amplified by raw draconic panic. It wasn’t the voice of a sovereign ruler; it was the desperate, terrified shout of a son. "Get my fathers! Now!"

The quiet, simmering peace of the Obsidian Palace instantly, catastrophically shattered.

Within seconds, the heavy stone corridors echoed with the frantic, deafening thud of massive boots. Zarek reached the balcony first. The King of the East didn’t even bother using the doors; he practically tore the heavy iron-wood archway off its hinges as he burst onto the terrace, his golden eyes blown wide with terror.

Kaelen, Torian, Syris, and Caspian were mere heartbeats behind him.

"Roxy!" Zarek bellowed, entirely shoving Drax aside to take his mate into his own arms.

"My water broke," Roxy gasped out, her fingers digging desperately into the thick leather of Zarek’s tunic as another sharp, contracting wave of pain rolled through her abdomen. "The baby... it’s coming."

"You are not due for another two weeks!" Kaelen shouted, his usually stoic, impenetrable facade entirely crumbling into absolute panic.

"The pup doesn’t care about the calendar, Kaelen!" Torian snapped, his tiger tail lashing frantically as he hovered over Zarek’s shoulder. "Move! Get her to the suite!"

Zarek carried her through the palace as if the mountain itself were collapsing behind them. The elite, terrifying dragon-shifter midwives—ancient, battle-hardened women who had delivered generations of warlords—were already rushing down the corridors, their hands glowing with restorative magic. They directed Zarek into the royal chambers, where the massive bed had been heavily prepared with soft linens and thick furs.

Zarek gently laid her down, his hands shaking as he brushed the sweat-dampened curls from her forehead. "I am right here, little Earthling. I am not leaving you."

The room quickly became a claustrophobic, chaotic nightmare of men. Kaelen was frantically trying to adjust the cooling enchantments in the walls, entirely terrified she was too hot. Torian was pacing at the foot of the bed, growling at the midwives every time they moved too quickly. Syris and Caspian stood rigidly by the headboard, their eyes dark with fear.

"You need to give her space!" one of the senior midwives ordered, her voice sharp and commanding, completely unfazed by the five Alpha Kings.

Before Torian could roar a defensive response, the heavy chamber doors flew open again.

Lyra rushed into the room. The fierce, beautiful female dragon-shifter bypassed the pacing Alphas entirely and dropped straight to her knees beside the bed. Roxy let out a massive sigh of relief at the sight of her.

Years ago, Roxy had stood by Lyra’s side, holding her hand and guiding her through the terrifying, agonizing birth of her three dragon hatchlings. The bond between the two women was unbreakable.

Lyra reached out, taking Roxy’s trembling hand in her own warm grip. "I’ve got you, Matriarch," Lyra promised fiercely, her eyes shining with devotion. "Just squeeze my hand."

"Thank the gods you are here," Roxy breathed, squeezing Lyra’s hand as another contraction hit her hard.

Lyra looked up, her gaze hardening as she surveyed the five massive, suffocating Warlords crowding the bed. They were entirely in the way, completely paralyzed by their protective instincts and radiating enough nervous energy to choke someone.

"Get them out," Lyra snapped at the midwives. "She cannot breathe with an entire battalion hovering over her!"

Syris and Caspian, possessing just enough rational logic to realize Lyra was absolutely right, exchanged a brief, determined look. The medics could not do their jobs with a Dragon, a Wolf, and a Tiger breathing aggressively down their necks.

"Alright, everyone out," Syris commanded, stepping forward and grabbing Torian’s massive bicep.

"I am not leaving!" Torian roared, violently digging his boots into the floorboards. "That is my mate!"

"And she is trying to push!" Caspian barked, grabbing Kaelen by the back of his heavy fur cloak. "You are freezing the entire room, Kaelen, move!"

What followed was a hilarious but incredibly tense Warlord scuffle. Syris, utilizing the sheer, overwhelming physical strength of his massive serpent form, had to literally pry Zarek’s fingers off the wooden bedpost. Zarek was growling as he actively fought the Snake King. Caspian threw his shoulder directly into Torian’s chest, physically shoving the massive White Tiger toward the doorway.

"Move your massive tail, Torian!" Syris hissed, straining against the combined weight of the eastern and northern Kings.

"Unhand me, Swamp Lord!" Zarek bellowed, kicking at the doorframe. "Roxy!"

"Go!" Roxy managed to shout between gasps, offering a breathless, pained laugh at their absolute absurdity. "I am fine! Lyra is here! Just go!"

With one final, synchronized heave, Syris and Caspian shoved Torian, Kaelen, and Zarek out into the grand hallway. The two of them stepped out immediately after, and the heavy, iron-wood doors were violently slammed shut, the locking mechanism clicking loudly into place to keep the panicking fathers out.

Inside the room, the chaotic Warlord noise vanished. Roxy closed her eyes, entirely relying on her own core strength. Lyra coached her through the breathing, her voice a steady, grounding anchor amidst the blinding waves of pain, while the elite midwives worked with absolute, flawless precision.

Outside in the hallway, the Alpha Kings were an absolute, unmitigated mess.

The five most terrifying, blood-soaked apex predators on the continent were reduced to frantic, pacing shadows. Zarek was smoking so heavily from his nostrils that the ceiling of the corridor was turning black. Kaelen was unconsciously leaking so much frost magic that a thin layer of ice was slowly creeping up the stone walls. Torian had already worn a visible, shallow trench into the volcanic floorboards from pacing back and forth.

Every time Roxy let out a sharp cry from behind the heavy doors, the Kings flinched violently, their massive shoulders hiking up around their ears.

They were terrified.

It wasn’t just the standard fear of childbirth. A dark, suffocating dread clawed at the back of their minds. The celestial formatting—the divine, apocalyptic trauma that had nearly erased her from existence—had taken a massive toll on her physical body.

What if the lingering effects of the Heavens had left her too weak for this?

What if her core couldn’t handle the strain of delivering a super-powered Vanguard pup?

For men who were used to drawing their swords and slaughtering any threat that approached their family, being entirely locked out of the room while she fought the greatest battle of her life was an agonizing, helpless torture.

"It is taking too long," Zarek growled, his golden eyes wide and frantic as he pressed his ear flat against the heavy wood of the door.

"It has only been an hour, Zarek," Syris murmured, though the Snake King’s hands were visibly trembling as he smoothed down his emerald robes for the hundredth time.

"She sounded weak on that last one," Torian whispered, entirely pressing his back against the stone wall, his bright blue eyes wide with panic. "What if she—"

"Do not finish that sentence," Caspian snapped, his voice cracking with oceanic terror. "She is the Matriarch. She is strong."

Another hour crawled by in absolute agony. The muffled sounds of the midwives issuing sharp instructions and Roxy’s exhausted, strained breathing echoed through the thick wood.

Then, the screams reached a crescendo.

Roxy let out a long, high, and entirely desperate cry. The sound tore through the Alpha Kings’ hearts like a serrated blade. Zarek raised his massive fists, entirely prepared to shatter the door into a thousand splinters and drag her out of the pain himself.

But before his knuckles could even strike the wood, the entire Obsidian Palace violently shook.

A massive, blinding pulse of radiant, golden magic exploded outward from the royal chambers. It blew right through the heavy stone walls, washing over the five Warlords in a wave of pure, overwhelming, and absolute terrestrial warmth. It tasted like sunlight, blooming vanilla, and an ancient, undeniable power.

And then, the screaming abruptly stopped.

Dead, absolute silence fell over the hallway.

The five Alpha Kings completely froze in place. Kaelen’s ice stopped spreading. Zarek’s smoke vanished. Torian stopped pacing. Their hearts simultaneously stalled in their massive chests. The silence was heavier, more terrifying than any scream.

One second passed. Then two.

And then, shattering the quiet of the mountain, a loud, demanding, and incredibly fierce newborn cry echoed right through the heavy stone doors. It was a furious, vibrant sound, completely saturated with the undeniable spark of Vanguard life.

The sound hit the Warlords like a physical shockwave.

The five terrifying, invincible Alpha Kings—the rulers who had conquered the Beastworld and defied the Heavens—instantly dropped directly to their knees in the middle of the hallway.

Torian buried his face in his hands, his broad shoulders shaking. Caspian let out a massive, shuddering breath, his head falling back against the wall.

Zarek stared at the heavy wooden door, his golden eyes rapidly filling with hot, blinding tears. A massive, beautiful smile broke across his scarred face.

"She gave birth!" Zarek whispered into the silent hall.