Bearclaw Valley Three Musketeers

Potema, unlike Damien, was not surprised by Cicero's words of wisdom. She knew her second-oldest brother and she knew he was right, even though she would never think of merging into this pack of all things. It was too bright to be comfortable in, for one. Cicero and she both had traveled, but the princess had lingered longer in Blackfeather, accustomed to darkness and shadows under the cover of trees and bushes. She could adjust, but after a while she would long to go back into darkness.

She was not as shocked as Damien when it was announced that Kove was no longer Alpha. For one thing, she did not know him as well, and secondly, it didn't matter. They were still guests, and Kove's mate was still Alpha, the tiny woman with the large stomach.

Potema matched her brother's bow of respect, but kept silent as he spoke for them. Instead, she had her eye trained on the stomach of the woman. Pregnant. She had never seen it before, and it looked ridiculously uncomfortable. Had her mother looked like that when she was pregnant with them? Blown out of proportion like the Alphess, or was this a product of her size?