My Beastly Fertility System Chapter 148: New, Tiny Lives

The rest of the farmland quickly filled with rows of vegetables and medicinal herbs as well.

On the far side of the field stood a small livestock shelter, where a handful of chicks and ducklings scratched happily at the dirt with their tiny claws.

The entire space thrived with quiet abundance.

Claire skimmed through the rewards she had just received. The usual supplies had all increased, including milk powder, flour, seasonings, along with fertility pills, painless birth pills, and healing pills. Each item neatly replenished, each number reassuring.

With resources like these, a steady calm settled deep in her chest.

Having the system at her disposal felt like holding a hidden ace. In her past life, she had endured more than her share of hardship. And now, here in the Beast World, everything seemed to return to her tenfold. More than once, she had thought that perhaps the world had its own way of balancing the scales.

After the birth, Marcus had gone from calm and collected to utterly overwhelmed.

The cubs kept coming, one after another. He barely had time to wipe each one clean before the next arrived, already wailing its tiny lungs out. Those sweet, fragile cries had become a heavy and precious burden.

His hands ached from the repetition. Then, on what felt like the hundredth time he reached down beneath Claire to scoop up another cub, his hands came up empty.

"Claire... is that it? Are they all here?"

"Yes. That’s all of them."

Her abdomen had flattened again, the fullness gone, leaving behind a strange, hollow lightness. In its place came a sudden, sharp hunger that clawed at her from within.

Marcus heard the weakness in her voice, and something in his chest tightened.

"... Did it hurt?"

"Yeah," She put just a little breathiness into it. "But it was worth it. For them."

She hadn't felt any pain, of course. But her fingers had brushed against the slick wetness beneath her, blood and fluid mixed together.

She didn’t need to see it to imagine the state she was in.

It wouldn’t be pretty.

A faint discomfort lingered, enough to make her shift slightly.

She reached for a piece of soft hide, intending to clean herself, but Marcus caught her hand.

"I’ll take care of it," he said.

He worked carefully, methodically, using fresh hides to clean her. His movements were gentle, almost reverent, but his heart felt unbearably heavy.

So this was what females endured to bring cubs into the world.

They went through something this brutal.

He used several pieces of leather before he finished. If he could have taken her place, if he could have given birth for her, he would have done it in a heartbeat.

Claire accepted his care without guilt. In moments like this, Marcus showed a quiet strength that surprised her. That same innocent, boyish beastfolk carried within him a fierce sense of responsibility.

The contrast was striking. And somehow, Claire thought, anything felt possible when it came to Marcus. Any quality could belong to him and still make perfect sense.

They leaned into each other, their attention drawn to the small forms gathered on the bed. The newborns smelled faintly of milk. A trace of it lingered at the corners of their mouths. Their bellies were round and full, tiny paws twitching now and then as if chasing dreams only they could see.

"Claire, having you here... It's everything."

Marcus let out a quiet breath, something close to wonder.

Once she was certain there were no more to come, the tension left her body all at once. Relief washed through her, followed immediately by a wave of exhaustion she could no longer fight. Her eyes closed. Sleep claimed her.

Marcus pulled thick furs over her and the newborns, tucking them in with care.

Only after making sure they were warm did he rise and step outside.

The scent of a strong male beastfolk had been hanging in the air for a while now. Marcus walked straight to the courtyard, leaped over the wall in one smooth motion, and landed lightly on the other side.

Zane stood waiting, clad in a pale fur tunic, his expression unreadable.

Zane didn't know what to do with this blind beastfolk. On one hand, Marcus was Claire's chosen mate. He should be welcomed.

On the other hand, Zane wasn’t without his own selfishness. Marcus had known all along that he was searching for Claire. Not only had Marcus refused to help, but he had also actively interfered, trying to keep her for himself.

Zane spoke first. "Funny," he said, his tone edged with something unreadable. "You don’t look the type."

Marcus blinked, those clear, unfocused eyes turning toward the sound of his voice.

"I’m not sure what you mean," he replied lightly.

But he had recognized Zane at once, by scent alone. The silver wolf who had warned him at the city gate. The same one who had been asking questions about Claire all over town.

Zane gave a short, humorless breath.

"You can drop the act. From the moment we entered the city, you’ve been watching us. Every time we got close to finding her, something went wrong. That was you."

Marcus smiled faintly.

"Was it?"

Zane pressed on.

"You covered your tracks well. But every trail leaves something behind. The first time, maybe I didn't notice. But twice? Three times? I'm not stupid enough to fall into the same hole that many times."

Not that Rufus had fared as well. Rufus had stumbled into that hole repeatedly, and never even realized he'd fallen.

Zane hadn’t bothered explaining everything to him. There was no point. Rufus noticed little things, but he rarely followed them far enough to matter.

Zane kept his own counsel. There were things he hadn't told Rufus, because telling him would have done no good.

It would have just given him one more person to worry about. All Rufus needed to do was follow orders. And as the gap between their abilities grew wider, Rufus had become increasingly willing to do exactly that.