leonardwarren Chapter 650 - 649- Millbrook Pregnant Ladies are Ready.
Chapter 650 - 649- Millbrook Pregnant Ladies are Ready.
Mira turned. "Military?""It does not feel like they are here for a diplomatic gesture," Olivia said, her hand finding her belly. She rubbed it — the same unconscious gesture Mira had made. The women were all doing it. Touching the life inside them, seeking comfort from the children of a man who wasn’t there to protect them. "It is more like a small territorial dispute."
Mira’s blood went cold.
"Is civil war going to start by engulfing our territory?" she asked.
The question wasn’t rhetorical. The political landscape of the region was unstable — weaker territories were being absorbed by stronger ones, border disputes were escalating, and Millbrook sat on the edge of everything. Rich. Resource-heavy. Defended by a dungeon that attracted adventurers like flies to honey. And its lord was absent.
Before anyone could answer, a boy entered the room. Young — eleven, maybe twelve. Black hair, green eyes. Mira’s son. He was breathing hard, his face flushed from running.
"Mother," he said, holding out a rolled parchment. "I just arrived. Picked this up — people are talking about it."
Mira took the parchment. Unrolled it.
Her eyes widened.
The image was rough — a scout’s sketch, drawn in charcoal, the lines hasty but clear. Catapults. Rows of them. Dozens. Behind the catapults — formations. Infantry. Cavalry. Supply wagons. The organization was military. The scale was massive.
A whole army. Prepared to destroy Millbrook.
Mira’s jaw clenched. Her hand tightened on the parchment, crumpling the edges. Her green eyes burned — not with fear, though fear was there. With rage. The perverted, stubborn, refuse-to-break rage of a thick MILF who had been left in charge of a town that was about to be sieged.
"We need to call him now," she said.
The words left her mouth — and then a voice resonated.
Not in the room. In their minds. Every woman present — Mira, Helena, Kaida, Olivia — heard it simultaneously. A warm, lazy, familiar voice that slid into their thoughts like water finding its level.
’[’I might be busy. But how are you, my ladies?’]’
Silence.
Then chaos.
"VICTOR!"
"Where ARE you?!"
"Why haven’t you contacted us?!"
"Husband, we have been—"
"Do you have ANY idea what is—"
The mental link was flooded. Four voices — five, as Bella came running into the room, her white cat-kin ears flat against her head, her petite frame showing just the slightest swell of belly beneath her dress — all speaking at once. Complaining. Yelling. Laughing. Crying. The sound of women who had been holding everything together with their bare hands and had just heard the voice of the man who was supposed to be holding it together instead.
The mental link settled. Viktor’s voice came through — warm, amused, carrying the faint undertone of someone who knew he was in trouble.
’[’You see, I was quite busy these days. And I don’t want my wives to hear some bad sides of me.’]’
"Bad sides?!" Kaida’s crimson eyes flared. "What bad sides?!"
"Busy doing WHAT?!" Bella’s tail — the cat-kin appendage — was lashing behind her. Her petite body was tense, her white hair wild. "We are about to be ATTACKED and you are—"
"Husband," Olivia’s mental voice was measured. Noble. But the cock-addict beneath the saintess was straining. "We need you. Now."
Helena said nothing mentally. She simply rubbed her belly and looked at the window. Her maternal patience was wearing thin.
Mira took a breath. She steadied herself. The perverted woman in her wanted to scream at him, to demand he come back, to tell him about every sleepless night, every kicked rib, every moment of fear. But the leader in her — the one who had been running this town — spoke first.
’No,’ she told the others mentally. ’Let me.’
"Husband," Mira said through the link. Her voice was steady. "Is everything right on your end?"
Viktor’s pause was brief. ’[’Mostly.’]’
"Good," Mira said. "Because we are about to get under attack by the nearby kingdom. There is a siege about to happen. Catapults. Infantry. The whole force."
A pause.
’[’How many catapults?’]’
"Dozens," Mira said. "A full army."
Another pause. Longer this time.
"But you don’t need to worry, husband," Mira continued. Her voice cracked — just barely, just enough. "We will handle it."
Even as she said it, she looked down. Her hand was trembling. Her belly — round, heavy, full of his child — was shaking with the tremor that ran through her body. She looked at Helena. Helena was trembling too. Kaida’s jaw was clenched so tight the muscles in her neck were visible. Olivia’s hand was pressed to her chest, her breathing ragged. Bella’s ears were flat, her tail still, her petite frame rigid.
They were all trembling.
Because it was their homes. Their town. The thing they had built — the cobblestones, the lamps, the shops, the dungeon economy, the organization, the life they had created while their husband was gone. And it was about to be destroyed by an army they couldn’t stop.
Viktor sighed through the mental link. The sound was heavy. Resigned. The sigh of a man who had been hoping to enjoy his evening.
’[’Mira. Helena.’]’
Both women straightened. The mental voice had changed — softer. More direct. The warmth was still there, but beneath it was something else. Authority.
’[’Can you both give birth to my children now?’]’
The war room went silent.
Mira’s trembling intensified. Her hand gripped her belly. The child inside her kicked — hard, as if responding to the question.
"What?" Mira whispered. "No. It is still at least a week or two. Maybe more."
Helena nodded. Her brown bun swayed. "He is right. We need time. The gestation isn’t complete — the accelerated process has brought us to the final stage, but the children aren’t ready."
’[’Then we have to make you both give birth forcefully.’]’
The words landed like a physical blow. Mira’s knees buckled — she caught herself on the table. Helena’s hand flew to her mouth. Kaida’s crimson eyes went wide. Olivia’s saintess composure shattered. Bella’s ears stood straight up.
"What?" Mira’s voice was high. Cracked. "But — husband — Victor — what are you saying?"
’[’This is the only way to save the kingdom.’]’
The word hit different. Not ’town.’ Kingdom. He had said kingdom.
’[’You both need to become strong soon.’]’
Mira and Helena looked at each other. The memory surfaced — Viktor’s words, spoken weeks ago, before he had left. The explanation he had given them about what would happen when they gave birth. The transfer. The power. The moment they brought his children into the world, they would receive a portion of his abilities — amplified, multiplied, made permanent.
They gulped. The reality of it — the ’forced’ birth, the power transfer, the idea of becoming something more than pregnant women managing a frontier town — was crashing into them.
Helena spoke first. Her maternal voice was steady. "We are ready."
Mira swallowed. Her green eyes burned. "But how?"
Through the mental link, Viktor chuckled. The sound was warm. Familiar. The chuckle of a man who had just fucked two women into unconsciousness in a cave and was now, somehow, managing a town from miles away.
’[’Prepare a king-sized bed. And shave your both pussies.’]’
The war room erupted.
"EXCUSE me?!" Kaida’s face was crimson — matching her hair. "Did he just—"
"Shave their—" Olivia’s noble composure was gone. Her cheeks were pink. The cock-addict beneath the saintess was very interested. "In front of—"
"He wants them to WHAT?!" Bella’s tail was puffing up — the cat-kin embarrassment response. Her white ears were flat. Her petite body was rigid. "That’s — that’s—"