Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband-Chapter 176: The Fox Out of Time

The ascent from the bottom of the world was quiet.

Inside the silver-reinforced bubble, the air was thick with the scent of ozone and ancient dust. Ophelia sat on a cushioned bench conjured by Primrose, wrapped in a warm blanket. She looked incredibly small.

For a legend who had supposedly stolen the ocean and defied an Empire, she didn’t look terrifying. She looked like a girl in her early twenties, with pale skin that hadn’t seen the sun in a millennium and white hair that floated around her like a halo.

She was currently staring at Rurik.

"A Wolf," Ophelia murmured, her voice raspy but gaining strength. She poked Rurik’s arm. "You’re big. The wolves in my time were scrawny. Too much running, not enough eating."

Rurik puffed out his chest, looking pleased. "I am a Warlord, Grandma. I eat plenty."

"Don’t call me Grandma," Ophelia snapped, though there was no heat in it. "I’m barely twenty-five. Plus a thousand years of nap time. That doesn’t count."

She turned her gaze to Cassian. She eyed his emerald staff and the complex runes embroidered on his mage robes.

"And a Serpent Mage," she noted. "I thought the Serpents only practiced alchemy. When did you start weaving high-magic?"

"About three centuries ago," Cassian answered politely, adjusting his spectacles. "We diversified."

Ophelia hummed. "Fancy."

Then, her eyes landed on the kids.

They were huddled together on the other side of the bubble, staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes. Vali, Arjun, Silas, Jasper, Clover, Ellia, and Orion.

Ophelia leaned forward. The blanket slipped off her shoulder.

"The Heirs," she whispered.

She looked at Arjun. "A Tiger with glasses. Cute."

She looked at Silas. "A Panther with the Shadow-sight. Dangerous."

She looked at Vali. "A Wolf with red eyes. An Alpha."

She looked at Ellia. "And a Lioness... holding hands with the Tiger." She smirked. "My, my. The First Lion would have an aneurysm if he saw that."

Finally, she looked at Orion.

The little boy was in his human form, wearing a slightly rumpled velvet suit. He was holding a half-eaten cracker.

Ophelia froze. Her breath hitched.

She didn’t look at the boy. She looked past him, to the man standing behind him.

Caspian.

Caspian was watching her closely, his teal eyes filled with a mixture of reverence and sadness.

Ophelia slowly stood up. Her legs were shaky, but Primrose moved to support her. Ophelia waved her off.

She walked up to Caspian. She reached out a trembling hand and touched his cheek.

"Etienne?" she whispered.

The name hung in the air. Not the boy’s name. The King’s name.

Caspian didn’t flinch. He leaned into her touch, a single tear escaping his eye.

"I am Caspian," he said gently. "Etienne was my ancestor. I am his... great-many-times-grandson."

Ophelia stared at him. She traced the line of his jaw, the slope of his nose.

"You have his eyes," she said, her voice cracking. "The exact same shade of the deep sea. He always looked at me like that. Like I was something precious he was afraid to break."

She lowered her hand. A shadow of immense grief passed over her face, ancient and deep.

"He’s gone, isn’t he? They’re all gone."

"They passed into history," Caspian said. "But they didn’t forget you. The Jaoiren Clan has sung songs of the Queen of the Tide every night for a thousand years."

Ophelia let out a wet laugh. "Queen of the Tide. I hate that title. I hate the water. It ruins my fur."

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, composing herself instantly. The grief was shoved down, replaced by a spark of that legendary foxfire spirit.

"Well," Ophelia declared, turning back to Primrose. "I suppose being a historical tragedy is better than being forgotten. Now, are we almost at the surface? I am starving. I could eat a whale. No offense, Fish-Boy."

The bubble broke the surface of the ocean just as the sun was setting.

The sky was a brilliant canvas of orange and violet—no longer the bruised purple of the Void. The air smelled of salt and freedom.

Jax was waiting for them with the Royal Skiff hovering just above the waves.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Jax called out, lowering the ramp.

Ophelia climbed out of the bubble. She took a deep breath of fresh air. She looked at the sun, squinting against the light.

"It’s still there," she murmured. "I half-expected the Void to have eaten it."

"We stopped it," Primrose said, wrapping an arm around Ophelia’s waist to steady her. "We punched it really hard."

Ophelia looked at her descendant. She saw the Nine Silver Tails that Primrose had deactivated but which still hummed with invisible power.

"You did good, Little Fox," Ophelia said quietly. "Better than I did. I just ran away and hid in a hole. You stood and fought."

"I had help," Primrose smiled, looking at the Warlords and the kids piling onto the ship.

"Yes," Ophelia noted, eyeing Rajah who was currently arguing with Rurik about who got the window seat. "You have a very... loud pack."

The flight back to the capital city was fast. Ophelia spent the entire time with her face pressed against the glass, watching the world go by.

"Stone roads?" she muttered. "Metal birds? Why is everything so square?"

When they landed at the Palace airstrip, Emperor Leonis was waiting. He had assembled a full honor guard. Trumpets blared. Banners waved.

Leonis stepped forward, wearing his finest white-and-gold ceremonial robes. He looked every inch the majestic Emperor.

"Lady Ophelia," Leonis boomed, bowing low. "Welcome to the capital. The Empire is honored by your return. We have prepared a speech to commemorate your—"

"Food," Ophelia interrupted.

Leonis blinked. "Pardon?"

"Food," Ophelia repeated, her stomach giving a loud, undignified growl that echoed across the airfield. "I haven’t eaten in ten centuries. I don’t want a speech. I want meat. Poultry. Beef. I want something that wasn’t conjured by magic."

Leonis looked bewildered. "Ah. Of course. The Royal Chefs have prepared a banquet—"

"No," Primrose stepped forward. She rolled up the tattered sleeves of her dress. Her eyes weren’t silver anymore; they were burning with a different kind of intensity.

The look of a Head Chef entering her domain.

"The Royal Chefs are fine," Primrose said. "But this is family. I’m cooking."

Caspian smirked. Rajah’s eyes lit up. Rurik started drooling immediately. They knew what that meant.

"You cook?" Ophelia raised an eyebrow. "You’re a Sovereign. You have servants for that."

"I was a Chef before I was a Sovereign," Primrose said firmly. "And trust me, Grandma. You’re going to want to taste this."