My Beastly Fertility System Chapter 137: Zane's Heist

She'd also harvested her herbs once. The valuable ones—mandrake, in particular—she'd left half to keep growing. Thanks to the time acceleration she'd used, the harvested ginseng was already well over a century old.

She'd replanted another batch, just in case.

The storage space's cabin had been stocked with extra furs—some saved by Zane and Rufus, others given to her by Marcus.

Luckily, Marcus had never noticed where all those furs disappeared to. Otherwise, she'd have had some explaining to do.

Claire managed her storage space whenever Marcus was asleep—slipping her consciousness into it late at night.

During the day, she'd close her eyes as if resting, but in reality, she was inside the space, organizing her stockpile.

Thanks to Marcus, she'd barely touched her stored food. He kept her supplied with fresh meat and fruit from the market.

Claire watched Marcus listening to her belly with single-minded focus and felt a deep contentment.

But the happiness came with a pang. She thought of Zane and Rufus. They were probably doing well at the eagle clan. Hopefully.

The beastlings from her second litter must be talking by now.

Once she'd given birth and winter ended, she was going straight to the eagle clan. No delays.

A sudden ripple passed through her belly.

Marcus yelped with delight.

"This little rascal just kicked me! I'm his dad! Hmph. Female beastlings are way cuter. Wouldn't it be amazing if they looked like you, Claire?"

Every night, Marcus gave the beastlings in her belly what he called "prenatal education"—talking to them, telling stories, and sometimes singing.

As it turned out, Marcus had a genuine talent for singing.

In the modern world, he'd have been a bona fide pop star.

Claire hid a smile behind her hand.

"Marcus, you're going to be a father. Why do you still call me like I'm your elder sister?"

Marcus curled himself tighter around Claire, shielding her from the cold.

"I like calling you like that. Even now that we're bonded, you're both my sister and my mate. Can I keep calling you like that? Please?"

How could she refuse that face?

She gave in.

Claire buried her fingers in his thick fur and scratched his belly.

The big panda's eyes drifted shut in bliss.

"I love it when you scratch my belly, Claire. To show my gratitude—tonight, I'll work extra hard."

Claire yanked her hand back.

This little deviant.

Every night, sharing a bed, those wide innocent eyes would do their work on her, and he never ran out of energy.

Good thing her body was stronger now—pregnancy and all, she could handle it.

Marcus was considerate. The moment she showed the slightest discomfort, he stopped.

But he'd never missed a single night.

Two weeks of this, and Marcus had become utterly insatiable.

The moment Claire heard that wheedling tone, her legs went weak and her hands retracted on instinct.

"You ungrateful brat. Is this how you repay me?"

"How is it ungrateful? You enjoy it too, Claire."

Claire's cheeks flamed. She grabbed his big head and scrubbed it vigorously.

"You seem awfully fond of my beast form, Claire."

"I am. Very much."

Claire pressed her face into his neck and inhaled. Clean jasmine, stronger in beast form than in human form.

Marcus had never known anyone who loved his beast form this much.

Before Claire, every time he shifted, people recoiled. Only his parents had ever reassured him.

Now he'd found his mate.

His mother had been right. Even someone like him could be loved.

He said, "Then, I'll stay in beast form more often. That way you'll love me even more, right? Oh—Claire, want to ride on my back?"

Claire clambered up with hands and feet.

Marcus rose on all fours. Claire watched the ground drop away, and her heart skipped.

She adjusted quickly.

His back was broad enough for her to lie flat, though her belly made that impractical.

Sitting up, she could see over the courtyard wall.

Beastfolk hurried past in the street. Occasionally, squads of guards stopped passersby, checking them against a fur scroll they carried.

"Those guards—what are they doing? It looks like they're searching for someone."

Claire leaned forward, curious.

Marcus answered, "I heard something went missing from Uncle Finlay's office. They're looking for the thief."

"Really? Someone robbed the city lord's mansion? How bold."

Claire laughed.

She couldn't explain it, but she'd never warmed to this "Uncle Finlay" Marcus kept mentioning. Her gut told her he wasn't a good person.