Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband novel Chapter 223

Chapter 223: The Anti-Poultry Feast and the Pack’s Promise

Cooking for the Warlords was an exercise in extreme logistics. Cooking for the Warlords, six growing beast-cubs, and a newly rescued Duck-kin mother required the kind of tactical planning usually reserved for military campaigns.

I stood in the center of the massive kitchen, my apron dusted with flour, my nine silver fox tails swishing back and forth in deep concentration. The hearth fires were roaring, heating the heavy iron pans and roasting spits.

"Okay, let’s review the menu," I muttered, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. I stared at the chalkboard hanging near the pantry. "We have the garlic-herb crusted beef roast for Rurik. The pan-seared lemon-butter salmon for Caspian. A massive tureen of wild mushroom and potato soup. Roasted root vegetables, fresh cheese, three loaves of crusty bread..."

"And absolutely zero poultry," a smooth, deep voice chuckled from the doorway.

I turned around to see Caspian leaning gracefully against the doorframe. The Merman King was dressed for dinner in a flowing, deep sapphire tunic that made his teal eyes completely mesmerizing.

"It is not funny, Caspian!" I groaned, pointing a wooden spoon at him. "I almost made my signature honey-roasted pheasant! Can you imagine the diplomatic disaster of serving roasted bird to a woman with wings? I had to panic-throw the entire bird out the window to the wild foxes this morning. I am paranoid. Are there eggs in the bread? I can’t remember if I used eggs!"

Caspian let out a rich, rumbling laugh. He walked across the kitchen, easily dodging a scurrying kitchen-golem, and wrapped his strong arms around my waist from behind. He rested his chin on the top of my head.

"You used milk and butter, Little Rose. No eggs," Caspian soothed, pressing a kiss to my hair. "You are overthinking this. Juni would likely not care, but your dedication to avoiding a faux pas is endearing. The dinner smells incredible."

"I just want tonight to be perfect," I sighed, leaning back into his solid warmth. "She has spent two years running, hiding, and fighting for her life. I want her to sit at our table tonight and realize she never has to run again."

Caspian’s arms tightened around me in a comforting squeeze. "She will know. It is impossible to sit at your table and not feel entirely loved."

Before the moment could get any sweeter, a loud crash echoed from the formal dining room down the hall, followed by Rurik’s booming voice.

"No! The snake does not get to dictate the seating chart! The wolf sits at the head of the table because I am the loudest!"

"Volume does not equate to authority, you walking rug," Cassian’s voice hissed back smoothly. "And you cannot sit there. The structural draft from the window will cool your beef roast at an accelerated rate, and I refuse to listen to you complain about lukewarm meat."

I stepped out of Caspian’s arms with a fond eye roll. "Duty calls. Grab the salmon, Your Majesty. Let’s go feed the horde."

The formal dining room was a beautiful space, featuring a massive, dark mahogany table that could easily seat twenty people. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the fine porcelain plates and silver cutlery that Cassian had painstakingly arranged.

When Caspian and I walked in carrying the heavy silver platters of food, the chaos was already in full swing.

The cubs were swarming the room. Orion and Jasper were debating the structural stability of the chandelier. Vali was proudly showing Clover a shiny new copper coin he had made from their morning "feather trade" in the gardens. Arjun was standing perfectly straight behind his chair, waiting for permission to sit.

And in the center of it all, Cassian was attempting to aggressively sanitize a wooden highchair with a glowing green spell, while Rurik tried to sneak a piece of cheese off the appetizer board.

"Hands off the cheese, Wolf of the North," I scolded lightly, setting the massive beef roast down in the center of the table.

Rurik snatched his hand back, though he gave me a completely unrepentant, toothy grin. "The Sovereign provides! It smells like victory in here!"

"It smells like garlic," Cassian corrected, pushing his glasses up his nose. He finished waving his hands over the highchair. "There. The infant seating apparatus is now completely devoid of coastal bacteria."

Before Rurik could start another argument, the heavy oak doors of the dining room slowly opened.

The room went completely quiet.

Juni stepped into the dining room, and my breath actually hitched. She wasn’t wearing her torn, dirt-smudged survival clothes anymore. I had lent her a flowing, pale sage-green dress made of soft, breathable silk. We had altered the back perfectly to allow her magnificent, silver-tipped wings to rest comfortably. Her wild golden hair was brushed and partially pinned up, framing her beautiful face. She looked like a goddess of the forest.

And right beside her, holding Pip securely in his arms, was Lucien.

The Panther Assassin had upgraded from his dark daytime suit to an elegant, midnight-black formal jacket. He wasn’t hovering behind her like a guard tonight; he was walking right by her side. He looked at her the way a starving man looks at a feast—with complete, absolute awe.

Pip was wearing a tiny, perfectly tailored white shirt and soft gray trousers. He had mercifully agreed to leave the yellow frog raincoat in his bedroom, though he was fiercely clutching a bright yellow stuffed duck toy that Silas had given him.

"Wow," Vali whispered loudly into the silence. "The sky-lady cleans up really good."

Juni flushed a deep, pretty pink, her wings fluttering slightly in a mixture of nervousness and amusement. "Thank you, Vali."

"Come in, come in!" I smiled warmly, walking over and pulling out the chair right next to the sanitized highchair. "Juni, sit right here. Lucien, you’re on the other side of Pip."

Lucien gently lowered the chubby toddler into the highchair. Pip immediately slammed his stuffed duck onto the mahogany table. "Food!"

"Yes, little bird, food is arriving," Lucien murmured, taking his seat. He immediately picked up a soft linen napkin and tucked it into Pip’s shirt collar to protect his tiny suit.

Juni sat down gracefully, looking at the massive, groaning table of food. Her golden eyes widened as she took in the giant beef roast, the perfectly flaked salmon, the steaming bowls of buttery soup, and the mountains of fresh bread.

"Primrose," Juni breathed, completely overwhelmed. "This... this is a feast for a king. You didn’t have to do all this."

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