Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands

Within ten minutes, the ravine fell completely silent, save for the heavy breathing of the Free Clan soldiers and the dying whimpers of the wolves.

Forty-nine wolves lay dead in the dirt.

Only one remained alive.

It was a young scout, barely out of adolescence. Both of his legs had been cleanly broken by a sweep of Sarn’s heavy tail. The young wolf dragged himself backward through the blood-soaked dirt, his eyes wide with absolute, unadulterated terror, until his back hit the rocky wall of the ravine.

The shield wall parted.

Veer walked slowly through the gap, his dark coat spotless, his twin blades dripping with crimson. He stopped a few feet away from the trembling wolf and crouched down, resting his forearms on his knees. His predatory eyes locked onto the scout, completely devoid of mercy.

"You’re going to live, pup," Veer said softly, his voice a chilling rumble. "Because my wife is incredibly generous, and she wants you to deliver a message."

The young wolf whimpered, pressing himself harder against the rock.

"You are going to crawl all the way back to the Northern Tundras," Veer instructed, speaking slowly and deliberately so the terrified beastman would remember every single word. "And you are going to tell your Kings exactly what happened here today. Tell them that the Vultures own the sky, and the Snakes hold the ground."

Veer leaned in closer, his golden eyes glowing in the shadow of the ravine.

"Tell them that the Free Clan does not negotiate with bandits. If a single Wolf sets foot near our trade routes again, we will not wait for them in the canyons. We will march our army North, and we will burn the Tundras to ash. Do you understand the message?"

The young wolf nodded frantically, tears carving tracks through the dirt and blood on his face.

Veer stood up, turning his back on the broken scout. He looked at Sarn and Bram, both of whom were covered in gore but completely uninjured. They had executed Kaya’s tactical trap flawlessly.

"Burn the bodies," Veer ordered. "Leave nothing but scorched earth. Let the merchants see the smoke. Let the continent know that the Free Clan protects its own."

Back in the Venom-tooth Canyons, the atmosphere was entirely different.

When the strike force returned just before sunset, completely victorious and without a single casualty, the entire fortress erupted in cheers. The merchants, who had been nervously waiting for news of the Wolf attack, watched in absolute awe as Veer and Sarn marched into the courtyard, tossing the massive, severed head of the Wolf Alpha onto the ground.

Kaya stood on her balcony, watching the celebration below. She let out a long, slow exhale, feeling a massive weight lift off her chest. She had called the Wolf Kings’ bluff, defended her supply lines, and solidified the loyalty of her integrated army. The Free Clan was officially a recognized, terrifying military power.

But as the night wore on, and the victory bonfires slowly burned down to embers, a strange, unsettling quiet fell over the deep canyon.

Kaya was sitting at the obsidian table in the war room, finalizing the trade ledgers by the light of a single oil lamp. Veer was out running a final perimeter check, and Cutie was supposedly asleep in the barracks.

Suddenly, the heavy wooden door to the war room creaked open.

Kaya didn’t look up from her ledger. "Veer, I told you, I’m almost done. Just let me balance the textile taxes, and I’ll go to sleep."

A low, anxious grunt answered her.

Kaya looked up. It wasn’t Veer. It was Cutie.

The giant bear-rabbit beastman squeezed through the door, looking incredibly agitated. His massive ears were pinned flat against his skull, and his nose was twitching violently. He lumbered over to the table and gently tugged on the sleeve of Kaya’s tunic, letting out a soft, distressed whine.

"What is it, Cutie?" Kaya asked, her brow furrowing. She closed the ledger and stood up. "Is someone hurt in the barracks?"

Cutie shook his head. He pointed a massive, clawed finger downward, toward the floor. Specifically, toward the deep, subterranean storage levels carved into the very bottom of the canyon, near the underground river. He grunted again, rubbing his nose as if trying to clear a foul smell from his sinuses.

Kaya’s tactical instincts instantly flared. Cutie was a gentle giant, but his senses were incredibly sharp. If he was this agitated, something was wrong.

She strapped her hunting knife to her thigh and grabbed the oil lamp. "Show me."

Cutie led her out of the war room and down the spiraling, dark stone staircases that led into the bowels of the fortress. The air grew noticeably colder and damper the deeper they went. This area was used strictly for long-term grain storage and cold-curing meats. It was usually heavily patrolled by Snake guards, but as they reached the bottom landing, Kaya noticed a chilling detail.

The torches on the walls had been extinguished.

"Stay close," Kaya whispered, holding the oil lamp higher. The flickering yellow light cast long, eerie shadows across the damp stone walls.

They moved cautiously down the central corridor of the storage level. The silence was absolute, broken only by the soft padding of Cutie’s massive paws and the faint drip of condensation.

As they rounded the corner toward the main grain silo, Cutie suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He let out a low, terrifying growl, the fur on his massive back standing straight up. He shoved Kaya behind his massive bulk, shielding her entirely.

"Cutie, what is it?" Kaya asked, peering around his arm and lifting the lamp.

The light fell upon the heavy wooden door of the grain silo. But the door wasn’t just closed. It was completely sealed shut by a thick, shimmering, silvery-white substance that looked like massive ropes of silk.

Kaya’s breath caught in her throat. She stepped out from behind Cutie, walking slowly toward the door.

The silk was incredibly thick, woven into a dense, complex web that covered the entire entrance. It smelled foul—a sharp, acidic stench that burned the back of her throat, distinctly different from the reptilian venom of the Snake Tribe.

Kaya drew her knife and carefully poked the webbing with the tip of the steel blade.

’Hsssss.’

The steel instantly hissed, a tiny wisp of acrid smoke rising from the point of contact. The silk was highly corrosive.

"This isn’t a snake," Kaya whispered, her heart beginning to hammer against her ribs. She looked down at the stone floor.

Lying in the shadows, half-wrapped in the corrosive silk, was the body of a Snake guard. But he hadn’t been stabbed or beaten. His armor was completely intact, but his body looked utterly deflated, as if every single drop of fluid and blood had been violently sucked out of him, leaving nothing but a dry, shriveled husk of scales and bone.

Cutie let out another distressed whine, backing away from the corpse.

Kaya stared at the horrific scene, the cold knot of dread that she had suppressed two months ago suddenly returning with a vengeance.

The Wolf Kings had attacked the front door in the daylight. That was a threat she could understand. She could fight it with tactics, steel, and air superiority.

But this? This was different. This was silent. This had bypassed the impenetrable walls, the Vulture patrols, and the elite guards entirely. Someone, or something, was already inside her fortress, hunting in the dark.

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