The Vicious Vixen: Mother To The Panther Lord’s Pups Chapter 01
The Bonding
Ever since I was a kit, they’d called me a vicious vixen. By twenty-eight, no male shifter in the Northeast Houses dared claim me as his mate.
So my family sent me into a proxy mate bond with a widowed panther lord.
I entered the Nightfall estate ready to make them fear me.
Then a pup tugged my sleeve and whispered, “Are you… are you my mommy? Do I really have a mommy now?”
My throat closed.
She looked so pitiful.
For one second, I was eight years old again, standing in my father’s house after my mother died, waiting for someone to want me.
No one ever did. To my father’s new mate, I was trouble.
And the day she finally got rid of me, she put on quite the show.
She drove me to the bonding altar herself, even squeezed out a tear at the gate.
“Oh, Aurelia, baby, I’m gonna miss you so much.”
Not a single drop actually fell. I smiled at her.
“You know what, Mom? If it doesn’t work out, I’m coming back home. Keep my room exactly how it is.”
Her face went pale. She shoved me toward the stone doors so fast I nearly tripped on my own dress.
“Go, go, go. Good luck, sweetie, GO.”
The dress was blood red. Silk. I picked it myself.
If I was going to be bonded to a ghost, I might as well look like I meant it.
Because there was no lord waiting for me at the altar.
Lord Darian Nightfall was feared, filthy rich, and untouchable.
He was on the northern border, hunting the raiders who had been hitting the Night Road convoys.
In his place stood a carved panther crest on the far wall, the proxy bond papers waiting for my blood, and Gideon Vale, Darian’s estate steward and legal proxy.
The shifters whispered. Some laughed behind their hands.
*Poor thing. Can’t even get a real mate to show up for the bonding.*
*Well, what did she expect? She’s lucky any lord took her at all.*
I signed my name without hesitation and pressed my thumb to the stone bowl.
Gideon placed Darian’s mate ring on my finger.
Black steel, engraved with the Nightfall panther crest.
No kiss. No vows from him. Just ink, paper, and a crowd waiting for me to break.
Done.
I walked back down the aisle alone, chin high, heels clicking on stone.
Every pair of eyes pitied me. I let them.
Let them pity me. I didn’t need a mate.
I needed a house and enough distance between me and my family forever.
The Nightfall convoy pulled up outside. A house driver in a black suit opened the door.
I slid in, kicked off my heels, and leaned back against the leather.
Nightfall Hall came into view twenty minutes later.
Iron gates. Stone walls. Security cameras blinked red in the dark. Patrol lights swept across the drive.
Nobody greeted me at the door. No flowers. No welcome banner.
Just a cold front hall that smelled of stone, old wood, and neglect.
A servant led me upstairs without a word.
The lord’s suite was cold and untouched. I stood in the middle of it and waited.
Then I heard it.
A small knock. So quiet I almost missed it.
I opened the door.
A little girl stood there, maybe five years old, with dark curls, huge brown eyes, and a nightgown two sizes too big.
She was shaking. She reached up and grabbed the edge of my sleeve.
“Are you… are you my mommy now?” Her voice cracked. “Do I really have a mommy?”
It hit me hard.
I knelt down until we were eye to eye.
“Yeah, pup,” I said. “You’ve got a mom now.”
Behind her, half-hidden in the hallway, a boy watched.
Another pup. Older. Maybe ten. Arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes full of something I recognized instantly.
Distrust.
Farther down the dark hall, I heard a woman’s heels clicking closer.
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