The second door was also barred from the inside, a final, futile wooden barrier against the inevitable. Roy's muscles bunched, his leg drawing back to splinter the wood with a single kick, but he paused with the sound of soft light footsteps within. Within a moment, the sharp clack of a latch echoed from inside the room.
The door creaked open to reveal a young female beastkin. She began to bow her head in a stuttering greeting, but the motion died halfway as she looked up and truly saw him, the giant, the battle-worn, and the predatory look of a seasoned warrior, even in his soft form he looked intimidating. If they had to guess, it would not be hard to recognise a predator from the way he holds himself with the authority of a king.
With a strangled cry, the young female turned and fled across the expansive chamber. Roy pursed his lips into a thin, hard line. As frustrating as he often found the high-strung nature of females, they were the precious heartbeat of the Beast Continent, providing with their bodies the future generations of the world.
However, with their numbers dwindling across every kingdom, they were the only bridge to a future and it was looking bleak. Whether young or old, females were to be treasured and guarded within all species from young until adulthood and eventually death.
Before he could command the terrified girl to settle her racing heart and her teeth grinding shrieks, his eyes were drawn to the center of the room. He found the healer, the sister of their kingdom's prize.
The chamber was bathed in a warm, flickering glow from dozens of candles rendered from beeswax and animal fat. The scent of melting wax and dried herbs hung heavy in the air.
At the center of the room stood an altar featuring a man-sized wooden carving of the Goddess, her features smoothed by centuries of devotion. Kneeling before the statue was a figure in deep prayer, her head bowed and hands folded in a perfect steeple of faith.
She wore the traditional healer's garb intricate layers of soft fur and cured leather, adorned with bone beads and vibrant feathers that rustled softly with her breath.
Roy remained at the threshold, waiting with a patience that surprised even Bryant. While he was not a devout believer himself, he held a deep-seated respect for those who walked the path of the Goddess.
The young girl timidly approached the healer, touching her shoulder before leaning in to whisper, her voice trembling. "Healer Frey, the leader of our invaders has arrived. Do we attack them now?"
The question was so absurdly foolish that a ghost of a smile almost touched Roy's lips. He motioned for Bryant to retract his claws and step back, then walked further into the room, his heavy boots silenced by the woven mats on the floor.
The young girl retreated from Frey's side, scurrying to stand near an elderly Margay female who held a single cub in her arms. The cub was tiny, entirely too young to shift into its "soft" humanoid form. It was a squirming ball of spotted fur and wide eyes.
Roy's gaze lingered on the cub's slightly protruding belly; he felt a spark of approval. A well-fed cub was the sign of a tribe that prioritized its future above all else. To stumble upon a healthy cub was a stroke of immense luck, a blessing in a world where many tribes saw only a handful of births every solar year.
Roy shifted his attention back to the healer. He could only see her profile, but he watched as she finally finished her silent plea to the heavens. She rose gracefully, her movements fluid and unhurried.
As she gained her feet, the cub let out a loud, lusty cry, wiggling energetically and reaching its tiny paws toward her. The healer motioned the elderly woman forward and took the cub into her arms with practiced tenderness. She pressed a soft kiss to the top of the cub's head and turned to face the intruder.
Roy still hadn't seen her face fully; she kept her chin tucked, her focus entirely on the restless infant in her arms. Yet, he found himself strangely affected by the scene. Her manners were gentle, and her voice, a whisper-soft croon as she calmed the cub, tugged at a part of his instinct he usually kept buried under layers of steel. The Margay cub settled instantly, cuddling against her and beginning to lick its paws in an attempt to groom itself.
Healer Frey stopped when she was just a few paces from him. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders. Looking down at her, Roy was struck by how fragile she appeared, a delicate wildflower standing before an avalanche. She clouded his mind with the instict to protect, to claim, to impregnate.
Then, she lifted her gaze.
When she stared directly into his eyes, Roy's mind went blank, not even his insticts knew how to react. The tactical thoughts, the hunt for Eris, the weight of the conquest—it all vanished. She was exquisite.
Beautiful, he thought, as his pulse leapt in his throat. She had the face like the Goddess herself. The female's skin was flawless, glowing in the candlelight, and her eyes were the warmest shade of honey brown he had ever seen. In that moment, he felt the irrational, piercing conviction that she had been put on this earth solely to tantalise him. To be present in the room but never to be touched by the likes of him.
Her light brown eyebrows were sculpted into soft, elegant arches, her nose was perfectly straight, and her mouth... her mouth was full, rosy, and devastatingly appealing. What he would give to be able to feel her skin beneath his fingertips, to make her scream his name in pure ecstasy.
Roy felt a sudden, visceral reaction to her presence, his body responding to her beauty with a heat that had nothing to do with the usual jungle humidity.
For the first time in his life, the General was at a loss for words.