The world flipped violently upside-down, a sickening baffling landscape erupting cataclysmic rainbows and crackling with alien energy that seemed to chase Kirastasia around like a rabid beast slavering after a rabbit. She had thought she could handle anything that faced her with fangs bared in wild grin; she might have been coldly rejected by both parents, yet their powerful blood pumped through her veins nevertheless, marking her a dangerous princess. A predator to make obstacles shatter at her paws. It should not have mattered much that one of her newest flings had eyes that glowed like otherworldly oceans. Kira had dealt with Kahlan’s split personality as best she could, still determined as ever to discover a way to save the ex-healer. But somewhere between falling for Drizzt and figuring out Kah’s secrets and waking up with honest-to-moon SCALES dappling her limbs, the snowbird had begun falling to pieces. Problems no longer rolled off her strong shoulders like rain . . . instead, she felt them hanging off her like heavy icicles, sharp and thick, tugging at her pallid fur and piercing her skin when she made the wrong move. Slowing her down. Chilling her. And eventually, Kirastasia felt that she’d either crack into brittle shards or freeze solid, unable to twitch so much as a muscle.

Reality overwhelmed her. Kira simply cared too much. And for a creature that had grown up caring very little, always springing from her problems when they irritated her too much, this novel experience fell nothing short of terrifying.

A hundred lead weights crushed her lungs flat within her breast. She could not draw breath for gasping. Spring might have warmed the earth under her paws, but Kirastasia traveled as if tip-toeing over eggshells that might break and slice her paws. Moons ago, she had discussed Kahlan’s rapidly deteriorating mental state with her alternate self—Henny—and she had made absolutely no progress in rescuing the beautiful earthen queen. No brilliant insight into what had wounded Kah so grievously, what might tempt her to trust Kira again . . . a frustrating dead end. How could the punkette fail so tremendously?! Why was she so bad at tracking her first love? Why couldn’t she fix this, rather than always creeping timidly in the distance—helpless to halt the unraveling of Kahlan’s thoughts?

And then . . . Drizzt. The handsome, sweet, innocent Tempest who gazed at Kirastasia as if she were a goddess of the moon. Allowing her mind to drift to him . . . his unmasked adoration, his endearing honesty . . . her heart clenched painfully. She’d pushed him to take her, like the shameless cheap slut she was. That hungry part of her free-spirited nature had never bothered the ice princess before—so why had burning guilt shoved her away from his side? What on earth had following her carnal instincts caused her such distress? Drizzt was the first male Kirastasia had ever lain with. In way . . . she’d also been a “virgin,” stumbling and fumbling through a dance she hadn’t quite learned the steps to yet. To his credit, the Tempest had served her well; in spite of his obvious inexperience, he’d satisfied her to the fullest. Laying next to him and catching her breath felt safe. Right. In fact, snuggling into the warmth of Drizzt’s ivory robes soothed the wild ess so deeply that it scared her. She savored the Tempest’s attention like a heroin addict pursued a high—and Kira had finally concluded after years of pointless romantic flings that perhaps her favorite drug might destroy her.

Not to mention the “gift” Drizzt had given her. Or rather, judging by the movement in her womb, the “gifts.”

In a different lifetime, Kirastasia would have run straight to Kahlan after the first sign. She trusted the ex-healer with all her heart and soul; if anyone could help the cream damsel through her first pregnancy, it was the cinnamon-dusted dame. What am I supposed to eat? What am I supposed to DO? Queens hadn’t been much of a mother. Kira had never bothered to ask about the male anatomy, thinking she’d learn on her own, and pups had never even crossed her mind. If worrying about her relationships with Kah and Drizzt scared her, the notion of pushing several living things out of her own body—and then ensuring they survived—filled Kira with so much horror she thought her heart would stop.

Night found the vipera woman pacing restlessly along the border, tears pooling in her maple lanterns. Contractions had crept upon her an hour ago, growing steadily more ferocious. The pups . . . were ready to be born. She sensed their eagerness to live, to cuddle against her, their little limbs kicking her insides impatiently. Except Kirastasia hadn’t even picked a birthing den yet. Was that something she was supposed to do? Air knifed out of what little space her lungs had left. She paused to scrub a scaled forelimb across her eyes, though the action did nothing to stop her panicked sobs. “I’m going to mess up,” Kira whimpered pitifully, pausing when a particularly punishing contraction squeezed her abdomen. “These poor little babies are going to have a freak for a mother, and I’m going to ruin them. I just know it.” An abrupt aching cry pulled from her lips—brought on by a wave of agony that nearly brought her to the ground—and the serpent lady gritted her daggers. There was no choice but to figure this out. Surely Milo wouldn’t cast her out . . . the alphess was far too kind to reject a fellow female in a time of dire need . . . nodding, hiccupping, Kira tipped her head back to call for help—

And then she saw it. A blaze of blue, illuminating the forest, flashing quick as lightning. Kirastasia was hobbling toward it as quickly as possible, heart beating for a new reason. “Drizzt . . . ? DRIZZT?” That pallid silhouette was unmistakable! Her adorable white knight, running right to her doorstep! He collapsed like a marionette with its strings severed, his sides heaving with exhaustion, face like an angel’s as he lay there limp over the fallen leaves and new yellow-green grass. Kirastasia shuffled up to him with her pale grey snake’s columns shimmering faintly rainbow, affection overflowing from honeyed pools. Glancing side to side to check if anyone else had noticed his explosive entrance, the snowbird passed over the border, muzzle low and tail wagging cautiously. She brushed the Tempest’s brow with a soft kiss, wincing against the persistent push of pups inside of her. “Wake up, my young knight. Did you gallop yourself senseless just to see me?”