Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Giving Birth

“Your belly’s not small, but there’s only one cub.”

The black leopard’s voice was low, almost lazy, as if he were commenting on the weather.

Su Yan blinked, caught off guard. “Really? I haven’t even given birth yet. How would you know?”

He didn’t answer. He only kept looking—those golden eyes fixed on the swell of her abdomen, unblinking, as if he could see straight through skin and bone.

“This child probably isn’t from the mouse clan,” he said at last. “Are you going to raise him?”

“Of course I’m going to raise him.” Su Yan frowned. “His father is dead. Who else would raise him? What kind of question is that?”

“His father is dead?”

The black leopard tilted his head, gaze cutting sideways into her face.

Su Yan’s throat tightened under that look. “Y-Yes.”

“And if he isn’t?”

“Impossible. I saw him take his last breath.”

“Sometimes what you see is just a surface.” The black leopard’s eyes slid back to her belly. “Either way, by the rules, if a female has multiple husbands, the child belongs to the biological father’s side. You have a marriage contract in the mouse clan?”

“I don’t.” Su Yan’s brows knitted. “I’m just still—wait.” Her voice sharpened. “How do you know about the mouse clan? Who are you?”

Before he could answer, a violent spasm ripped through her abdomen.

Su Yan sucked in air, fingers digging into her own stomach as the pain surged, white-hot and relentless. She’d never given birth before, but she didn’t need experience to recognize what her body was demanding.

It was time.

Counting the days… it was exactly time.

“Can you find a tribal shaman?” she gasped. “I’m going to give birth.”

Heat rose beneath her skin, that familiar, dangerous pressure of shifting—her human form straining to break through.

The black leopard moved instantly. His jaws closed around her with startling care, firm but controlled, and he sprang down from the tree. The world lurched. Branches blurred. Then he was running—fast enough that the wind tore past her ears and the ground became a streak of shadow and stone.

Su Yan fought the urge to transform. If she shifted now, she’d throw off his pace. She’d fall. She’d—

The System flashed a warning across her mind like an ice-cold blade: [Host, return to human form for delivery. This cannot be resisted.]

[Fuck!]

[Do you think I don’t want to?]

[Look at the situation—there’s no one to deliver the baby!]

The curse tore out of her raw and sharp, pain wringing it from her like water from cloth.

The System replied, calm as ever: [self-delivery mode can be activated. No midwife assistance required.]

[What?] Su Yan’s eyes widened even through the tears. [There’s a feature like that?]

[Yes.]

Information poured into her mind in a clean, merciless sequence—steps, risks, timing—everything she needed, whether she wanted it or not.

The moment she understood, she forced her voice out through clenched teeth. “Stop. Find somewhere safe. I’ll do it myself.”

The black leopard halted so abruptly her stomach clenched again. He scanned the terrain, then sprinted toward a small hollow tucked against a rise, a thin stream threading silver through the rocks.

He set her down on the damp earth.

Then he opened his mouth.

Lightning snapped into existence.

The bolt hit with a crack that made Su Yan’s teeth vibrate. A patch of ground exploded into a flat clearing, scorched edges glowing faintly, the air instantly thick with the sharp sting of ozone.

Su Yan stared, stunned. Lightning. Actual lightning.

This was beyond absurd.

The black leopard tugged soft grass from the bank, carrying it in his mouth, and spread it into a rough bedding. When he looked at her again, his tone was curt. “Make do.”

“It’s… fine. More than fine.” Su Yan swallowed. Right now, she was less afraid of the birth than she was of the creature beside her. One flicker of displeasure, one wrong word, and she could be lightning-charred too.

She climbed onto the grass. The damp blades clung to her skin.

“You—turn around,” she said, voice tight. “I’m shifting into human form.”

“Can you really do it?” he asked.

For a moment, concern slipped through his stillness, visible in the way his eyes narrowed and his body leaned forward, ready to move.

“I’ll manage.” Su Yan exhaled, trembling. “If I can’t, I’ll call you.”

The System was here. It had to work.

The black leopard hesitated, then backed out of the hollow and stationed himself at the entrance like a living wall.

Su Yan shifted into human form.

Cold air hit her bare skin. She grabbed handfuls of grass, the roughness scratching as she tried to cover herself, cheeks burning even as pain eclipsed everything else.

The contractions came harder now—deeper, more punishing—rolling through her like a tide made of knives.

A cry tore out of her before she could stop it.

The black leopard snapped his head around.

He caught the sight of her—snow-white hair spilled over her shoulders, delicate features drawn tight, lips bitten pale—pain carving her beauty into something fragile and cruel.

Su Yan met his gaze, breath ragged, and forced a weak smile that only made her look more breakable. “Don’t look.”

“…Okay.”

The black leopard turned away again, but his shoulders stayed tense, ears pricked to every sound she made.