The months following the Vanguard Youth Tournament bled into a warm, vibrant Beastworld summer, bringing with it a period of profound peace, terrifyingly accelerated pack growth, and an increasingly heavy reality for the Matriarch.
Roxy was now heavily, undeniably deep into her third trimester.
The transmigrated Vanguard pup growing inside her possessed an absolute, staggering vitality that made itself known at all hours of the day and night. Roxy was practically glowing, her skin radiating a breathtaking, maternal flush that completely mesmerized her five fiercely devoted husbands. However, the physical toll of carrying a super-powered apex predator was undeniable. She was overwhelmingly uncomfortable. Her lower back ached constantly, her center of gravity was entirely compromised, and she could not walk down a single stone corridor without at least three Alpha Kings hovering frantically, fully prepared to catch her if she so much as stumbled over a rug.
