Kael was infertile, so whose cub was Arya carrying? Could it be a pregnancy she faked to escape being forced into mating? 

Whatever the truth was, I was stunned by her boldness. 

A month later, when she was due to give birth, the lions held a grand ceremony. All clan leaders were invited to witness the birth of an Aetherborn. 

In the past life, I’d borne Kael a golden lion cub with Aetherblood. That must have convinced Arya she could do the same, so she’d been boasting of her Aetherborn from the moment she’d discovered her pregnancy. 

The beastfolk hadn’t seen such a rare bloodline in decades. So, when the day came, nearly all clan leaders gathered for the occasion. 

As her sister, I was permitted into the birthing chamber to keep her company. 

By the time I entered, the room was crowded with females, all fawning over her. Arya sat upright and basked in the praise with her chin held high. 

When she saw me, she ran a hand across her round stomach and threw me a taunting look. 

“Litha, it looks like I’ll be the first to bring an Aetherborn into the world. That makes me the chieftess of the beastfolk!” 

There was an old, unspoken rule among the beastfolk—for every human-beast matrimony, the bloodline status of the offspring often decided the political future of the clans. 

The beastfolk who had offspring with stronger blood would be tied to the next chieftain. If the offspring shared the same bloodline, the matter was decided by whoever was born first. 

Arya had conceived after me, but dragon pregnancies lasted far longer than other beastfolk’s. So, it was no surprise that her cub was nearly born, while my belly had just begun to show. 

No wonder she was so smug. 

I gave her belly a calm, unreadable look and commented, “You might want to wait until the cub is born before you celebrate. Let’s hope it doesn’t disappoint you.”