Baby System: My Mates Can Read my Mind?

Rue rushed inside to change before someone else bled from their face.

She gripped the edges of the massive fluffy towel with both hands. She held it tight against her chest. She didn’t look back at the white wolf. She didn’t look at the bright red blood dripping down his chin. She just spun around on her bare heels and practically ran across the damp green grass. Her heart hammered a frantic beat against her ribs. Her face burned so hot she thought she might catch fire.

Drax’s loud roar still rang in her sensitive rabbit ears. The angry sound chased her all the way up the stone steps.

She pushed the heavy front doors open and slipped back into the dark, quiet manor. The cool air inside hit her wet skin, making her shiver hard. She hugged the towel closer. She walked fast down the long, dusty hallway in the east wing. She just wanted to hide.

She reached the cedar door of the storage room. She slipped inside and pushed the door shut, leaning her back against the thick wood. She let out a long, shaky breath.

The room smelled like dry leaves and old memories. The painted portrait of Roxy still hung on the wall. The bright pink eyes stared down at her from the canvas. Rue ignored the painting this time. She didn’t want to look at the fierce warrior queen. She just wanted dry clothes.

She dropped the fluffy towel onto the wooden floor. She peeled the wet, clinging white cotton dress off her body. The cold mountain air raised goosebumps all over her arms and legs. She tossed the soaked dress aside.

She walked over to the massive iron-banded chest. She lifted the heavy lid. It gave a loud, rusty squeak.

She dug past the modern Earth clothes. She pushed the faded blue jeans and the graphic shirts aside. She needed something that fit the Beastworld a little better. She reached the bottom of the pile. Her fingers brushed against soft, thick fabric.

She pulled out a simple, forest-green dress.

It felt like fine, spun wool. It was soft and dry. She stepped into the dress and pulled it up over her shoulders. She smoothed the fabric down her sides.

She found a simple dress in the spare room. She puts it on, and it fits her new curves perfectly.

She walked over to a tall, dusty mirror standing in the corner of the room. She wiped a layer of grey dust off the glass with her hand. She looked at her reflection.

The dress hugged her body tight. It didn’t hang loose like her old clothes used to. It wrapped around her full chest and pulled snug against her narrow waist. It flared out just right over her wide hips. Having Theron and Seika changed her shape so much. She used to look like a fragile, sick girl. Now, she looked womanly. She looked healthy. The deep green color made her pale skin glow. It made her bright pink eyes pop.

She liked what she saw. She felt a little surge of real confidence. She ran her fingers through her damp silver hair, letting the curls fall in a messy wave down her back.

She turned away from the mirror. She left the dusty storage room and walked back through the quiet manor.

She walks back outside.

The bright afternoon sun blinded her for a second. She blinked, letting her eyes adjust to the light. The breeze carried the sweet scent of the turquoise pond.

Zale was no longer swimming in the deep center. The merman sat right on the edge of the grassy bank. His massive blue tail rested in the shallow water, swishing back and forth. Onyx stood a few feet away from him. The white wolf held a dark cloth against his chin, wiping the last traces of blood from his face. He glared at the ground. He looked miserable.

Drax stood right where she left him. The Dragon King waited for her. His broad shoulders relaxed the moment she stepped back out into the sun.

Rue walked across the stone terrace. She stepped onto the grass. She felt much better now. The dry clothes gave her a soft shield against the world. She walked toward the men, holding her head high.

Zale looked up. The merman rested his pale hands on the wet grass. He took one look at her new outfit, and his face lit up with a massive, cheeky grin.

Zale grins and blurts out that the dress belonged to their mother, Roxy, but it looks a lot snugger on Rue.

"Oh wow," Zale laughed loud and clear. His melodic voice bounced off the trees. "I remember that green dress. Mother used to wear it all the time when she walked in the gardens. It was her absolute favorite."

Zale tilted his head, his sea-green eyes dancing with mischief. "But I have to be honest. It hung off her like a loose sack. It looks a lot snugger on you, Rue. You fill it out way better."

The words hit Rue right in the chest.

She stopped walking. Her bare feet froze in the soft grass. The tiny bit of confidence she built in the dusty mirror shattered into a million pieces.

Rue feels a flash of hot anger.

It started as a tight knot in her stomach. Then it rushed straight up her throat, burning like hot coals. Her face flushed, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment. It was pure, fiery frustration.

Roxy. Roxy. Roxy.

Every single place she went, the ghost of the first mother followed her. She walked into a house, and she heard about Roxy. She looked at a wall, and a painting of Roxy stared down at her. The magical system inside her head praised Roxy’s legend. Now, she couldn’t even wear a simple green dress without someone comparing her body to the dead queen.

She is sick of living in Roxy’s shadow.

She didn’t want to be the new, improved version of someone else. She didn’t want to wear another woman’s clothes and get judged on who wore it better. She just wanted to be Rue. She wanted to belong here on her own terms. She didn’t want to be a replacement for a legendary savior.

She breathed in sharp and fast. Her rabbit heart pounded a furious beat against her ribs. She clenched her hands into tight fists at her sides. The soft wool of the dress suddenly felt like a heavy chain wrapped around her waist. She wanted to rip it off. She wanted to yell.

She wanted to tell Zale to stop talking about his mother for five minutes. She wanted to tell Onyx to stop staring at her like a starving dog. She felt so overwhelmed by all these giant, ancient men projecting their history onto her soft shoulders.

She looks up ready to snap.

She opened her mouth. A harsh, angry word sat right on the tip of her tongue. She was ready to let all her frustration spill out onto the grassy bank.

But then her pink eyes landed on Drax.

She catches Drax staring at her like she is the only woman in the beastworld.

The Dragon King didn’t look at the dress. He didn’t care about the fabric or who wore it decades ago. He didn’t care about old ghosts or system prophecies. He just looked at her.

His dark eyes were so soft. They were filled with a raw, quiet worship that stole the angry breath right out of her lungs. He didn’t see Roxy’s replacement. He just saw his mate. He saw the mother of his child. He saw the girl who made him leave his lonely mountain peak. The intense, burning devotion on his sharp face was overwhelming. It made her knees feel weak.

The hot anger in her chest melted away like snow under a bright sun. The fire died down, leaving a warm, fluttering feeling in her stomach. She let her hands uncurl. Her fists turned back into soft palms. She let out a long, shaky exhale.

She forgot all about Zale and his loud jokes. She forgot about the bleeding wolf standing near the trees. The whole world shrank down to just the two of them standing in the green grass.

She took a slow step toward him. She tilted her head, her heart skipping a tiny beat.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

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