Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband-Chapter 110: The GPS (Great Powerful Snake)

The adrenaline was fading, replaced by the biting cold of the Whispering Mountains.

Primrose was on her knees in the snow, frantically checking Caspian for broken bones. The King was conscious, but he looked terrible. The black veins on his neck were throbbing, and his usually pristine coat was torn and stained with black ichor.

"I am fine," Caspian wheezed, trying to push himself up and failing. "Just... a minor magical backfire. Nothing a King cannot handle."

"You almost exploded," Primrose scolded, her voice shaking as she wiped soot from his cheek with her sleeve. "Stop being regal and let me help you."

She wrapped her arm around his waist, hoisting him up. He leaned heavily against her, his head resting on her shoulder.

Around them, the Four Warlords were regrouping.

Lord Rurik was wiping monster slime off his knuckles with a handful of snow.

Duke Lucien was inspecting his fingernails, looking bored.

Archduke Cassian was tapping the side of his monocle, analyzing data.

General Rajah was staring south, looking strangely pale for a man who had just incinerated a pack of monsters.

"How did you even find us?" Primrose asked, adjusting her grip on Caspian. "We left hours before you. And this is an unmarked route."

Rurik puffed out his chest. He grinned, showing his canines.

"The nose of a Wolf is absolute!" Rurik boomed. "I smelled your fear! And the distinct scent of that cheap coffee you drink! I tracked you across the frozen wastes like a bloodhound!"

"False," Cassian interrupted, his voice dry.

Rurik deflated. "Hey! I was tracking them!"

"You were tracking a mountain goat for the last three miles," Cassian corrected. "I allowed it because you looked happy."

Cassian walked over to Caspian. He reached out and tapped a small, silver button on the King’s coat.

BEEP.

"I placed a Mana-Signature Tracking Beacon on the King’s wardrobe three weeks ago," Cassian explained calmly. "I tracked his velocity and trajectory in real-time."

Caspian stared at the Snake Archduke. "You... you bugged me?"

"I ensured the safety of the asset," Cassian replied smoothly. "You have a tendency to wander into life-threatening situations. It was a logical precaution."

"It is an invasion of privacy!" Caspian argued weakly.

"It is why you are currently alive," Cassian countered. "You are welcome."

Primrose sighed, shifting her weight to support Caspian better. She brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, her touch lingering on his forehead to check for fever.

"You’re burning up," she whispered worriedly.

Across the clearing, the air temperature dropped a few degrees. Not from the weather, but from the Warlords.

Lord Rurik narrowed his eyes. He watched Primrose fuss over the King. He watched her hands on Caspian’s chest. He felt a growl building in his throat—not of anger, but of a prickly, territorial annoyance.

I just threw a monster into a wall, Rurik thought. I have muscles. Does she check my temperature? No.

Duke Lucien watched from the shadows. His violet eyes were unreadable, but the shadows around his feet twisted slightly, betraying his irritation. He didn’t want the King to die, obviously. But seeing Primrose look at Caspian with that level of desperate devotion... it stung. It stung like a paper cut on the heart.

Archduke Cassian observed the interaction.

Analysis, Cassian thought. Tutor Primrose exhibits elevated cortisol levels. Her proximity to Subject Caspian is biologically necessary for support, yet... the visual input is displeasing.

He adjusted his monocle. He decided to categorize this feeling as Tactical Concern rather than Jealousy.

And then there was General Rajah.

He wasn’t looking at Primrose. He wasn’t looking at Caspian. He was staring at the horizon with a look of absolute horror.

I sent a flower, Rajah thought, panic rising in his chest. I sent a dried flower and a cryptic note about going to save a King. I did not send coordinates. I did not send an estimated return time. I did not send a P.S. I am not dead.

He realized, with the clarity of a tactical genius, that he had messed up.

Leonora is going to flay me alive, he realized. She is a Lioness. If I return late, she will think I abandoned her again.

"General?" Primrose called out. "Are you okay?"

Rajah snapped out of it. "Fine," he barked, turning around too quickly. "I am focused on the mission. Definitely not thinking about the terrifying wrath of a Princess."

"What?"

"Nothing. Report status."

The group turned their attention to the carriage.

It was... well, it was mostly kindling now. The roof was gone. The wheels were shattered. The horses, sensing the Void Beasts, had bolted minutes ago and were probably halfway back to the capital by now.

"Well," Rurik kicked a piece of wood. "That is suboptimal."

"We cannot walk," Primrose said, looking at Caspian’s trembling legs. "He can’t make it in this snow."

"And I cannot teleport us," Cassian added. "The magical interference in these mountains is too high. A portal would likely scramble our internal organs. I prefer my liver where it is."

"So we are stranded," Lucien whispered. "How poetic."

"We need a vehicle," Primrose insisted. "Cassian? Can you fix it?"

Cassian inspected the wreckage. "I can repair the chassis using transmutation. I can fuse the wood back together. I can even reinforce the axles."

He raised a hand. Golden mana flowed from his fingers. The wood groaned and snapped back into place. The wheels re-formed. Within seconds, the carriage looked almost new—minus the roof, which was now a convertible top.

"Done," Cassian dusted off his hands. "However, there is a flaw in the plan."

"What?" Primrose asked.

"Horsepower," Cassian pointed to the empty harness. "We have zero horses."

The group stood in silence. The wind howled.

Everyone looked at Rurik.

Rurik froze. "Why are you looking at me?"

"You are strong," Cassian noted.

"You have stamina," Rajah added.

"You enjoy running," Lucien whispered.

"I AM A WARLORD!" Rurik roared. "I am the Wolf of the North! I do not pull carts like a donkey!"

"It is for the King," Primrose said softly, giving him the Tutor look—the same look she gave Vali when he refused to eat his vegetables.

Rurik groaned. He looked at the sky. He looked at the snow.

"Fine!" Rurik barked. "But only because I need the cardio! And if anyone mentions this to the Council, I will eat them!"

Ten minutes later, the strangest caravan in the history of the Empire set off.

Archduke Cassian had modified the carriage wheels into skis, turning it into a sleigh.

Lord Rurik, in his massive Beast Form (a giant grey wolf the size of a truck), was harnessed to the front. He looked furious but majestic.

General Rajah walked alongside, his sword acting as a torch to light the way.

Duke Lucien sat on the back bumper, keeping watch.

Archduke Cassian sat in the driver’s seat, holding the reins (which Rurik had insisted be made of silk, not leather).

In the back seat, wrapped in furs, were Caspian and Primrose.

"Mush!" Cassian commanded calmly.

"DO NOT SAY MUSH!" Rurik roared (in wolf-speak), but he lunged forward.

The sleigh shot across the snow.

In the back, Caspian leaned his head back, watching the stars appear as the clouds broke.

"They are ridiculous," Caspian whispered, a small smile playing on his lips.

"They are family," Primrose corrected, tucking the blanket around him.

Caspian looked at her. The pain in his body was intense—like shards of glass moving through his blood—but having her this close made it bearable.

"Primrose," he said softly. "About the dance..."

"Don’t," she warned. "Don’t get sentimental on me, Caspian. Save it for the orchestra."

"I was just going to say," Caspian smirked weakly, "that you stepped on my foot."

Primrose laughed, a sound that cut through the cold air. She lightly punched his arm.

"You’re delirious. I am an excellent dancer."

"Lies," Caspian closed his eyes, his breathing evening out. "But I will allow it."

Up front, Cassian looked at Rajah.

"General," Cassian said. "You are pacing. Your heart rate is 120 beats per minute. Are you detecting a threat?"

"No," Rajah grumbled, kicking a snowball. "I am just wondering... do Lions like apology chocolates? Or is that cliché?"

Cassian blinked. "You are asking me for romantic advice? I am a Snake. We court by gifting shedding skin."

"Never mind," Rajah sighed. "I am doomed."

Rurik howled at the moon, pulling the sleigh deeper into the mountains, toward the hidden gate of the Fox Sanctuary. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

They were alive. They were moving. And for now, the Void was kept at bay by the warmth of a Pack that refused to let their King freeze.