The cubs stirred a lot, as if trying to fight the sleep and open their eyes and I watched as they all sprang to their tiny paws, stretching and yawning.
Raiden was the first to yip, looking for his momma.
I sat on a flat, sun-warmed boulder and gathered them to me. And then one by one, I fed them, watching the way the sunlight caught the different textures of their fur—Raiden's sharp black stripes, Phina's ashen tips, and Lyra's subtly yellow stripe.
It was peaceful and I felt comfortable.
The water bubbled, and the guys were busy unpacking some of the dried meat we'd saved. But then, the silence changed. It didn't get louder; but something heavier.
I looked up from Lyra's emerald eyes to see my three husbands standing perfectly still. They weren't talking but were just staring at the horizon, their expressions looking a little grim, and worried.
"What is it?" I asked, shifting Lyra to my other side. "Is someone following us?"
