Help! Five Beast Alphas Want To Breed Me!!(BL)

Koda;

I stand with my arms crossed as I stare at the piling mountain of gifts in Mother’s room. So many gifts, the room is starting to look like a treasury instead of a bedroom...

When the first gift came, it was simply a basket of sweetened berries wrapped in white cloth, then came a jar of healing balms, then beautiful handmade bracelets woven with bear fur, feathers and clay beads. A gift I know took a lot of time and sentiment to make.

Then more baskets came... Then flowers, then notes wishing Mother a speedy recovery... they just... kept coming.

More and more by the minute.

I stand at the doorway as I watch Mother’s aide meticulously pile up each gift on the floor in the corner of the room.

A steady line of Gravemaw citizens respectfully place their gifts right outside the room. They bow to me, and some give me encouraging smiles, while others give me hopeful smiles before leaving.

Some whisper prayers, and some linger as if hoping Mother would call them in and speak to them.

But she doesn’t.

She’s lying on her side, with her arms wrapped around herself and her gaze on the other side of the room. She has her back to me, her aide, the gifts... Like, none of it means anything to her.

I walk over to Mother’s aide, who has been walking back and forth for the past few minutes, and I gently place a hand on her shoulder.

I gesture for her to leave, and without exchanging a single word, she understands me.

She bows to me and silently exits the room.

I walk over to the gifts and crouch in front of them. I run my fingers over the vibrant flowers, and a smile splits my face.

Aside from the beauty of today’s weather and the warmth in this room... These gifts are another reason to smile... because they are visual representations of how much the people love my Mother.

She hasn’t stepped out of this room since the accident, and the people have been so worried, they decided to do this to let her know that even though we were all affected... even though some of them lost their homes, families, and parts of their lives they’ve been building for years... they still care about her.

I look back up at my mother on her bed, and my happiness fades. She didn’t even look at a single gift.

I exhale softly as I stand up, and I decide to break the silence.

”Mother,” I begin nervously, in a frugal attempt to lighten the mood.

”You’re going to run out of space if this continues.” I joke dryly, but she doesn’t respond.

I walk closer to her bed, picking up one of the handwritten notes.

The writing is imperfect, shaky... clearly written by a young cub trying their best.

’Get well soon, my Queen. We miss your laughter.’

I feel the sting of tears press behind my eyes, and I take a shaky breath to stabilise myself. Of all the times to break down... of all the times to cry... now isn’t it. My mother needs me. I need to be strong for her.

I stare at my mother. Her luscious blonde hair looks like she’s refused to comb or brush it in days.

She is in a simple, white nightdress, and her aura has dropped drastically.

A woman who always carried so much energy, joy, and happiness... now carries so much depression and hurt.

Her laughter hasn’t been heard in weeks. How the fuck is Gravemaw supposed to heal if she remains like this??

How do I pull her out of this dark pit she’s drowning in?

I place the note gently beside the others and sit on the bed, but I don’t touch her.

...I’m too scared to.

”They’re thinking of you,” I speak softly, and once again, I’m met with silence.

Silence that seems to tie a noose around my throat.

A tear escapes my eyes, and I quickly wipe it.

No. I can’t be weak now.

”Mom, all of these gifts...” I try again, and finally, she breaks her silence, but her voice is... low.

Flat... Empty.

A stranger compared to what she usually sounds like.

”Did you tell them to do this?” she demands, and I freeze.

I blink in astonishment as I stare at my mother in disbelief.

”No,” I answer honestly, and she falls silent again.

”Mother... your people did this because they love you. No one needs to force Gravemaw bears to care. They always show their heart freely.” I add, and I watch her arms curl tighter around herself as she buries her face deeper in her pillow.

”Mom...” I begin, but she cuts me off.

”They love the woman they think I am,” she says, and I raise a brow.

”They love what they think I still am. Not what’s left of me.” She adds, and my heart cracks open.

”Mother...” I begin, but she interrupts.

”Koda, they don’t know!” She snaps as she finally turns to look at me, and my heart dies in my chest when I see the dark circles under her eyes and the shallow distance that has now formed in her once bright eyes.

Losing ones beast is one of the most horrible things that could happen to anyone... It takes several tolls on those unfortunate to experience it, and right now... This loss is showing no mercy to my mother.

”They don’t know I’ve lost her, Koda.” She whispers with sorrow bleeding off every word, and my throat goes dry as I stare at and listen to her.

”They don’t know their Queen no longer has her beast.” She adds, and I hold my breath.

She doesn’t wait for me to reply... almost like she knows that there’s nothing significant I could say to that.

She turns away from me, and I watch her knuckles whiten where she grips the fabric of her dress.

I swallow hard... knowing whatever I have to say probably means nothing... but I can’t stay quiet.

”Mother... they don’t love you because of your beast,” I whisper in fear of losing her completely to this... darkness.

”They love you because you’re you,” I add, and she lets out a brittle laugh... one that scrapes something raw inside me.

”How would you know what they love, Koda? You’re not the one who has to face them. You’re not the one they look up to for protection.” She replies, and I feel something crumble inside me.

She isn’t angry at me. She is angry at herself.

Frustrated, grieving... Lost.

And I hate it... Light, I hate it so much because she has always been our strongest pillar. The mother who lifts others. The Queen, who stood fearless even when armies threatened the gates.

But now... now she is breaking quietly, slowly, one thought at a time.

”Mother,” I whisper, and her shoulders tense.

”You don’t have to pretend with me,” I add, and ignore me.

She lets out a trembly breath, and her pain hits me square in the chest.

I should know what to do. Some part of me should know how to help her.

How to bring back the mother who raised me with fire in her bones.

...But I don’t.

I don’t know anything....

Except that she looks small... and alone.

...And so unbearably tired...

I get off the bed and walk to the other side. I kneel on the floor in front of her, and without a word, I wrap my arms around her. She doesn’t move when I reach out... She also doesn’t pull away.

I wrap my arms around her gently... carefully, like she might shatter if I squeeze too hard... and I rest my head against the stomach that carried me for nine whole months.

She still smells of honey and warm clay... That’s good at least... right?

For a breath, there is only silence.

Then she exhales shakily, her body trembling once... just once...before she goes still again.

”Koda...” she whispers, almost inaudible, and I swallow down the tears I feel building.

”I’m here,” I croak. ”I’m right here.”

”I don’t know how to be without her,” she shudders

”I don’t know how to rule without her. I don’t know how to live without her.” She whispers the same words I’ve heard before, and I swallow.

”I know,” I whisper.

”I know, Mom. And I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

I want to promise her that everything will return to normal.

That her beast will come back.

That she will heal tomorrow, or the next day, or the next week.

...But I can’t.

I can not lie to her.

So instead, I just hold her tighter.

”I don’t know how things will get better,” I admit.

”But I’m going to stay by your side until they do,” I add, and she moves her fingers to my hair. She quietly runs her fingers through it, and in the silence, I feel the weight of her despair settle over us both.

For a long time, neither of us speaks.

We just exist there... mother and son... two people mourning what is lost and afraid of what comes next.

”Come... Let me brush your hair...” I whisper as I pull away from her, and I watch her lips tremble before she breaks down in tears again.

”Oh, Koda...”