Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband novel Chapter 207

Chapter 207: The Great Treehouse War

The ancient oak tree in the center of the manor’s eastern courtyard had survived centuries of coastal storms, lightning strikes, and harsh winters. But as I stood on the patio with my morning coffee, I realized the poor tree was about to face its greatest threat yet: bored beast-cubs.

"If we build the base platform on the lowest branch, we lose the tactical high ground," Orion was saying, pacing around the massive trunk with a piece of charcoal and a wooden board. "But if we build it on the third branch, the wind shear from the ocean might destabilize the floorboards!"

"The wind shear is a minor variable, Orion," Jasper replied, adjusting his round glasses as he looked up into the canopy. The nine-year-old snake-cub was holding a measuring tape. "We just need to install a sloped roof to deflect the coastal crosswinds. I am more concerned about the structural integrity of the wood. We must source premium oak planks."

"I don’t need planks!" Vali shouted. The little wolf-cub was currently hanging upside down from a lower branch by his knees, his tail wagging wildly. "I’m going to sleep on a pile of leaves! Wolves like the dirt! Treehouses are for birds!"

"We are not birds, Vali," Arjun said seriously. The little tiger-cub was doing perimeter checks around the roots, holding a wooden practice sword. "A tree-fortress provides an elevated vantage point to spot enemy troops. It is a necessary military installation."

I leaned against the stone railing of the patio, my nine silver tails swishing in amusement. Watching the cubs try to agree on a weekend project was always entertaining. Orion wanted a masterpiece of architecture, Jasper wanted a mathematically flawless bunker, Arjun wanted a watchtower, and Vali just wanted to climb things.

"Are you going to stop them?" a smooth, cool voice asked.

I didn’t jump. I was used to Warlords appearing out of nowhere. Cassian stepped onto the patio beside me, holding a cup of perfectly steeped black tea. The Serpent Warlord looked immaculate as always, wearing dark, tailored silk.

"Why would I stop them?" I smiled, taking a sip of my coffee. "It’s good for them to play outside. Orion has been drawing treehouse blueprints for three days."

"A treehouse is a splinter hazard," Cassian sighed, his narrow eyes fixed on his younger brother. "And Jasper has sensitive scales. If he falls from that branch, his trajectory will result in a highly inefficient landing. I should put a stop to this."

"Cassian, let your brother be a kid," I nudged his arm gently. "He’s having fun."

Before Cassian could argue, a loud, booming laugh echoed across the courtyard. Rurik marched out of the manor, completely ignoring the paved walkways and walking right over my flowerbeds.

"Pups!" the Wolf Warlord cheered, clapping his massive hands together. "You build a den in the sky? Excellent! A true predator must know how to strike from above!"

"Dad!" Vali cheered, dropping from the branch and landing perfectly on his feet. "Can we use your big axe to chop down a tree for the floor?"

"You may use my axe, my fierce pup, but you will not build a flimsy little bird’s nest," Rurik declared, puffing out his chest. "If the Alpha’s son is to sleep in a tree, it must be a fortress of timber and iron! We will build a Northern watchtower! Fetch me my hammer!"

"Hold on," Cassian hissed, setting his teacup down with a sharp clink. He gracefully hopped over the patio railing, landing silently on the grass, and marched toward the oak tree. "If my brother is going to inhabit this structure, it will not be a crude pile of logs hammered together by a barbarian."

Rurik narrowed his golden eyes, crossing his arms. "And what do you know of building, snake? You sleep in silk sheets."

"I know that your grasp of load-bearing physics is nonexistent," Cassian sneered lightly. He turned to Jasper. "Show me the blueprints, Jasper."

Jasper proudly handed over the charcoal-smudged wooden board. "Orion and I calculated the exact center of gravity, brother. If we anchor the main support beams here—"

"Unacceptable," Cassian interrupted, though his tone was entirely fond as he patted his younger brother’s head. "You forgot to account for the gravitational shift when Vali inevitably jumps up and down like a feral creature. We must use magically reinforced steel brackets."

"Steel is too heavy!" Orion argued, defending his design. "It’ll ruin the natural sway of the tree!"

"The architect is correct."

Caspian strolled out of the manor, looking devastatingly handsome in a loose white shirt and dark trousers. His silver, iridescent hair caught the morning light as he walked over to join the gathering crowd under the oak tree. He rested a heavy, affectionate hand on Orion’s shoulder.

"If you use steel, you fight the tree," Caspian explained smoothly, giving Cassian a knowing look. "You have to move with the current, not against it. We will use flexible, water-treated bamboo for the joints. It bends, but it never breaks."

"Bamboo?" Rurik scoffed. "That is panda food! We need ironwood!"

I put my face in my hands and let out a long, exhausted sigh. It was happening again. The Warlords simply could not let the cubs do a single normal, low-stakes activity without turning it into an extreme test of masculine dominance and engineering.

"I give it an hour before they accidentally build a three-story mansion in that tree," a quiet voice whispered from the shadows of the patio awning.

I looked over and smiled at Lucien. The Panther Warlord was leaning casually against the stone wall, watching his younger brother, Silas, who was sitting near the roots of the tree making a shadow-squirrel dance along the bark.

"You aren’t going to join the argument?" I asked.

Lucien’s violet eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "No. I am waiting until they finish doing all the heavy lifting. Then Silas and I will simply claim the highest, darkest corner of the room. It is the panther way."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Smart. I’m going to go make lemonade. They are going to need it."

By three in the afternoon, the treehouse was no longer a treehouse. It was a suspended palace.

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