I SOMEHOW ENDED UP WITH A HAREM FULL OF BEAST MEN

”Do you know where your mates are?” Soryn asked, his emerald eyes studying my face in the dim light of the cave.

”Yes, I do,” I whispered, my voice still unsteady from shock and cold. ”I know where they are.”

”Then let us go,” he said, his gaze lifting to the darkening sky beyond the waterfall’s mist. ”It is getting dark, and these woods are not safe after sunset. Not with cheetahs hunting.” He paused, his eyes returning to my face with an intensity that made me want to shrink into myself. ”What is your name, female? I am Soryn. Serpent Prince of the Northern Territory.”

”Uhm...” I swallowed, my throat dry. ”I’m Krys.”

”Krys,” he repeated, tasting the sound, rolling it across his forked tongue as though sampling a rare delicacy. ”And what beast tribe are you from, Krys?”

I hesitated. The lie I had constructed, the careful fiction I had maintained since arriving in this world, felt suddenly fragile beneath his penetrating gaze. ”Ape,” I finally said. ”I guess.”

”You do not look much like the apes I have seen,” he observed, his head tilting in that predatory manner that sent shivers down my spine. ”I thought perhaps you were mermaid, with that coloring. Or perhaps from the peacock tribe. But you do not smell of fish or bird.”

”You have seen the ape tribe before?” I asked, grasping at the change of subject.

”Yes,” he said, his tongue flickering. ”And none of the females are as attractive as you.”

”Oh...” I felt heat rise to my cheeks despite everything. ”Yeah, I’m from the ape tribe. Not all apes look the same.”

”That can be true,” he agreed, though his expression suggested he did not entirely believe me. ”There are other territories of apes across the world. Variations in appearance.”

The journey back to the lion tribe was a nightmare I would never forget.

Soryn transformed, his human torso melting seamlessly into the massive serpent I had first woken to. But now I saw him fully, and the sight stole my breath. He was enormous. If I had to compare him to the buildings of my old world, he would have stretched the length of a fifty-foot skyscraper, his scaled body thick as ancient tree trunks, his power evident in every ripple of muscle beneath those gleaming emerald scales.

He coiled me in his body; not tight enough to hurt, but secure enough that I could not fall; and began to ascend. The movement was hypnotic, terrifying, his massive form finding purchase on wet stone that should have been impossible to climb. We rose past the waterfall’s curtain, the thunderous roar deafening, the spray soaking us both as he slithered upward with fluid, powerful grace.

I directed him as best I could, my voice trembling, pointing toward the village I could see glowing with firelight above. Every instinct screamed to flee, to run from this monster who held me so casually in his coils. But I forced myself to breathe, to remember that without him, I would be dead. That my cub would be dead. That somehow, impossibly, this creature had become my lifeline.

When we crested the cliff and emerged into the village clearing, chaos greeted us.

The lion tribe was in disarray. Fires burned everywhere, not for warmth but for light—torches and bonfires casting frantic shadows against the night. Beasts ran in all directions, some carrying wounded, others bearing the still forms of the dead on makeshift stretchers. The air reeked of blood and fear and smoke.

And there, in the center of it all, were my mates.

Ravin and Leon stood directing soldiers, their voices hoarse, their faces ravaged by grief I could read even from a distance. Leon’s dark hair was matted with blood; not his own, I realized with relief. Ravin’s golden skin was streaked with mud and ash, his muscular frame tense with exhaustion. They were organizing search parties, I realized. Sending beasts out into the darkness to look for me.

”—must find her,” Ravin was saying, his voice cracking. ”She is pregnant. She could be injured, could be lost, could be...” He broke off, unable to finish the thought.

”We will find her,” Leon growled, but his own voice betrayed him, shaking with emotion. ”We will not stop until—”

”Ravin! Leon!”

The scream tore from my throat before I could think, raw and desperate and aching with all the love I felt for them.

Both males froze. They turned as one, their movements jerky, disbelieving.

The transformation that swept over their faces would haunt my dreams forever. The despair, the grief, the crushing weight of loss; it all shattered in an instant, replaced by shock, then joy so profound it seemed to illuminate them from within. Leon’s knees buckled. Ravin swayed as though struck.

”Krys,” Ravin breathed, and then they were running.

Soryn lowered me to the ground, his coils unwinding with what felt like reluctance. I stumbled forward, my legs weak, and then I was running too, tears blinding me, sobs choking my throat.

We crashed together in the center of the village, a tangle of limbs and desperate, clutching hands. Leon lifted me off my feet, crushing me against his bare chest, his face buried in my neck as he shook with sobs. Ravin pressed against my back, his strong arms wrapping around both of us, his roar of relief echoing through the night.

”I thought you were dead,” Leon gasped, his voice broken. ”I thought we lost you, I thought—”

”I fell,” I choked out, clutching at them both. ”I fell but I’m here, I’m here, I’m sorry, I’m here.”

For a moment, time stood still. The world narrowed to the circle of their arms, the thunder of their hearts, the wetness of their tears against my skin. I was home. I was safe. I was loved.

Then a voice cut through the moment, cold and imperious.

”Touching. But I am growing impatient.”

The world crashed back. I felt my mates stiffen, felt them turn as one to face the source of the voice.

Soryn stood; or rather, coiled; at the edge of the firelight, his serpentine form gleaming in the flames, his human torso held erect above the chaos. He looked every inch the serpent prince he claimed to be, regal and terrifying and utterly alien among the mammalian beasts.

”It is a snake,” someone whispered.

”Oh, by the beast gods, will he attack us too like the cheetahs?” a female voice asked, trembling.

Ravin turned his full attention to Soryn, his body shifting to place himself between me and the serpent. ”Who are you?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

”An ally,” Soryn said, his forked tongue tasting the air. ”And soon to be Krys’s mate.”

The growl that erupted from both Leon and Ravin was primal, territorial, filled with murderous intent. They shoved me behind them, blocking me completely with their bodies, their fur bristling, their claws extended.

”What the hell are you talking about?” Leon snarled, his teeth bared.

”Ask Krys yourself,” Soryn hissed, his stance unafraid, even amused. ”She will explain. Though I suggest you listen quickly. The moon cycle waits for no one.”

”Please,” I said, my voice small, my heart breaking at the aggression radiating from my beloved mates. ”Please, guys. Let’s go talk in our place. I have... I have so much to tell you.”

The walk back to our den was the longest of my life.

Every step felt weighted with shame, with dread, with the crushing burden of what I had to confess. We walked in silence, Leon and Ravin flanking me protectively, their bodies tense, their gazes flickering constantly to where Soryn followed behind us. I could feel their confusion, their hurt, their rising fear. I could feel Soryn’s presence like a weight against my back, patient and predatory and inescapable.

When we reached our dwelling, Leon barred the entrance with his body, blocking Soryn. ”You stay outside,” he commanded.

”For now,” Soryn agreed, his smile infuriatingly calm. ”But I will not wait forever, lion. The venom does not negotiate.”

Leon slammed the door; the solid wooden barrier he had built in place of our usual woven curtain, something I had suggested for privacy, never imagining it would be used to shut him out.

I stood in the center of our home, the place where I had known such peace, such love, such safety. Now it felt like a courtroom. Like a prison. Like the place where my happiness would end.

Ravin and Leon stood before me, waiting. Their eyes were red-rimmed, bloodshot from crying, from searching, from fear. They had been through hell tonight; had lost one of their own, had thought me dead, had organized search parties while grieving. And now...

Now I had to destroy them.

”Sit,” I whispered. ”Please. Sit down. This is... this is going to take a while to explain.”

They sat. Side by side on our sleeping furs, holding hands, united against whatever was coming. The sight of their solidarity, their love for each other and for me, made my chest ache with guilt.

I sat across from them, my hands trembling in my lap. I opened my mouth, closed it. Tried again.

”I fell,” I finally said, my voice barely audible. ”From the waterfall. I ran, and I reached a dead end, and I fell.”

And then I told them everything.

The terror of the attack. The death of Layla’s mate. The injury to Rhonda’s. The chase through the forest, my desperate flight, the wolf; Rina’s mate; waiting at the cliff edge. The fall. The cold. The darkness.

And then waking. Waking to scales and emerald eyes and a voice like silk over steel.

”He saved me,” I said, tears streaming down my face. ”I was dead. My heart had stopped. Our litter... my cubs was dying. He used his venom. Not poison; healing venom. A secret of his clan. It restarted my heart. It saved the litter. But it created a bond. A connection between us.”

Ravin’s face had gone pale. Leon’s hands were shaking.

”What kind of bond?” Leon asked, his voice hollow.

”Healing venom requires a mating bond to stabilize,” I whispered, the words tasting like ash. ”Without it... without completing the bond... the venom turns toxic. It will kill me. It will kill our cub. Within three days. By the next moon cycle.”

”No,” Ravin breathed. ”No, there must be another way. An antidote. A cure. We will find another healer, another—”

”There is no other way,” I said, my voice breaking. ”I asked. I begged. He explained everything. The bond must be completed. He must...” I could not look at them. Could not bear to see their faces. ”He must put his seed inside me. Only then will the venom fully stabilize. Only then will the toxin be purged.”

Silence. Crushing, suffocating silence.

”He is not taking you from us,” Leon said finally, his voice deadly quiet. ”We will fight him. Kill him. Find another solution.”

”He saved my life,” I said, looking up at them through my tears. ”And yes, he bound me to him without asking, without warning. But he did it to save me. To save our litter.” I reached out, taking their hands in mine. ”And he is offering more than just the cure. The cheetahs who attacked—they are his enemies too. They drove him from his northern territory. He knows their tactics, their weaknesses. With his venom and your strength, we could defeat them. Protect the tribe. Protect our future.”

”He wants to bed you,” Ravin said, his voice rough with pain. ”He wants to take what is ours.”

”He wants to survive,” I countered gently. ”Just as I do. Just as we all do. And he is willing to accept that I have you. That I love you. He does not demand exclusivity. Only... only a place in the bond. For the venom. For the alliance. For...”

”For you,” Leon finished, his eyes closing. ”He wants you.”

I had no answer to that. Because it was true. I had seen it in Soryn’s eyes; the hunger, the obsession, the desperate loneliness of a creature who had lost everything and now saw in me a chance at something he had thought gone forever.

”I do not want this,” I whispered, the truth tearing from my throat. ”I want you. Only you. Both of you. I was happy. I was content. I never asked for a third mate, never wanted—”

”But you have to,” Ravin said, his voice breaking. ”For the cubs. For your life.”

I nodded, unable to speak, the tears flowing freely now.

Leon pulled me into his arms, and Ravin surrounded us both, and we held each other in the darkness of our den. For a long moment, none of us spoke, the silence filled with the weight of what had to be decided.

Then Ravin drew back, his golden eyes meeting mine with an intensity that stole my breath. ”Listen to me, Krys,” he said, his voice rough but steady. ”Even if you had wanted another mate, without this situation, without the venom, we would have had to accept it. It is our way. The female chooses. Always.”

”That does not mean we would have liked it,” Leon added, his dark eyes softening as he brushed a tear from my cheek. ”What beast man does not want his female to himself? I would keep you locked away with only me if I thought you would allow it. But that is not how this works. Having more mates; that is exclusively your choice. Your right.”

”And we would do anything for you,” Ravin continued, his hand coming to rest on my belly where our cub grew. ”Even share you. Even welcome another into our bond. If it means your survival. If it means our cub’s survival.” He pressed his forehead to mine. ”We love you, Krys. That is all that matters.”

I looked between them, these two magnificent males who loved me so completely, so selflessly, and felt my heart swell until it seemed it might burst. ”This will be the last time,” I whispered, the vow fierce and absolute. ”I have two perfect mates. I do not need more. I do not want more. After Soryn; after the venom is settled, there will be no others.”

They held me tighter then, three hearts beating in rhythm, united in love and sacrifice. Outside, a serpent waited to join our bond.

I would accept it. To save my life and my cub’s life, there was no other choice. But as I pressed my face into Leon’s shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of him, a treacherous thought crept through my mind like cold water.

Could I really do it? Could I lie with him? Open my body to a creature I feared, who had bound me to him through circumstance rather than desire?

This was nothing like it had been with Ravin and Leon. With them, there had been longing. Choice. Love that had grown naturally between us until joining felt as inevitable as breathing. I had wanted them. Burned for them. Given myself freely and joyfully.

With Soryn, there would be none of that. No tender courtship. No shared laughter. No gradual building of trust and affection until the final step felt like the most natural thing in the world.

This was survival. Cold, clinical necessity. A transaction demanded by venom and fate, not by my own heart.

And I did not know if I was strong enough to pay that price.