The four weeks that followed Ren's change bled past in an agonizing, suffocatingly tense blur.
The sprawling Iron-Wood Manor, usually a chaotic haven of roaring laughter and thundering Alpha footsteps, had completely transformed into a hyper-vigilant fortress. The warlords walked on eggshells, their eyes tracking Roxy's every single movement.
It had only been seven weeks and three days in total, but Roxy's stomach had swelled to massive, aching proportions, entirely dominating her slender frame.
She was officially in the final, precarious stretch.
Upstairs in the royal suite, the preparations were already in a state of frantic, organized chaos. Dena, the young wolf-shifter helper, had been bustling around for days. She was currently boiling massive iron pots of fresh spring water, sterilizing medical instruments, and laying out dozens of pristine, white linen sheets across the furs of the birthing bed.
