Alex opened one eye. Zatar’s dark bedroom. Middle of the night. The weak light of the moon reached the sheets, highlighting Zatar’s hairy leg draped over her hip.

Why had she woken up?

Her eyes drifted shut, giving in to the delicious burn of tiredness.

Thud thud thud.

Her eyes snapped open again. That was it. She turned onto her side, shaking Zatar. “Do you hear that? Wake up!”

Zatar stirred, mumbling incoherently. The thumping sounded again, and then he bolted upright, headed for the door.

She squinted through the darkness as he tugged open his bedroom door.

“Sir, you must come quickly.” It was Timak. “Sala is in labor, but something is wrong. I just went to Alex’s room, but she did not answer.”

Alex stumbled out of bed, groping for a robe to cover her naked body. “I’m here. I’m here.” She struggled to find the arm holes in the low lighting.

“We’ll be there immediately,” Zatar said and then closed the door. The next moment the lights snapped on. Alex groaned, pinching her eyes shut.

Zatar muttered to himself in Arabic as he dressed. Alex managed to get shorts and a shirt on, but halfway to the zoo she realized she forgot all her underwear. It didn’t matter. Sala mattered. They raced to her enclosure. Timak was already inside.

And at his feet was a lion cub.

Zatar gasped, stopping in his tracks. Alex raced ahead, all her senses going into high alert. She took stock of the situation, what needed to be done and what she should leave to nature. She knelt in front of Sala, her hands shaking as she lowered her kit.

It didn’t matter how many deliveries she performed, she always prayed for a good outcome. She sent a quick plea to the heavens before pulling on a pair of gloves. She checked the lion cub: breathing.

The lion cub was tiny but not premature. Sala huffed and groaned on her side. Zatar said she’d been an orphan, born and raised in captivity. Would she know what to do with her little ones? Another baby was on the way, but who knew when? Time between cubs could be an hour or more.

Zatar stood behind her. His anxiety radiated off him. “Is she okay?”

“She should be fine.” She tried to make her voice steadier than she felt. One never knew with animals. Though captive lionesses had a lower mortality rate for their cubs, it didn’t mean anything was guaranteed. “We just need to be here and keep an eye on things.”

Alex placed the gray wooly cub near Sala’s head so she could clean it and bond. She held her breath as Sala sniffed the tiny creature, then let it out when mama began licking her firstborn. Zatar’s mouth parted as he watched the sweet maternal scene.

“This is incredible,” he whispered.

She nudged him with her elbow. “Well there’s two more on the way. All we have to do is wait.”

Time dragged as they awaited the next arrival, keeping their distance, since lionesses preferred privacy when giving birth. Zatar snapped as many pictures as a new father would, and she hid her laughter behind her palm as he took photos from all possible angles, even climbing on a stool at one point for the optimal shot. So much for privacy.

About an hour after the first cub, Sala started huffing again. A low growl emerged.

“Alex,” Zatar began, “Is that—?”

She didn’t answer him as the next cub slid out, fluid pooling at Sala’s side. Alex crept forward and checked it for a heartbeat. The cub wasn’t breathing. She fumbled to grab the suction device in her toolkit. With the cub draped over one arm, she cleared the nasal passageways. A moment later, there was a tiny mewling.

“Thank God.” She introduced the new cub to Sala, who got to work cleaning the second addition.

Alex took Sala’s vitals, measuring her blood pressure through her tail. Her heartbeat was weak, and her blood pressure was dropping. Panic sliced through her, made her stomach slam down to her toes. Fuck fuck fuck. There was one more in there. Sala gave a pitiful growl. The lion cub mortality rate was thirty percent. Two healthy cubs meant this last one might be the one causing distress.

Alex took a deep breath and took the vitals one more time. It was out of her hands at this point. All they could do was let Sala deliver and see what happened.

Zatar must have caught on to her trepidation because he came up to her side, nudging her. “What’s going on?”

“Just checking things out.” She didn’t want to worry him. Not when he was so anxious and curious.

“The third one will be fine, right?”

Alex stifled a sigh. They’d known each other so little time, yet he was already reading her mind? “I can never say yes or no to a question like that, unfortunately. We have to let Sala do her thing.”

Zatar paced the far edge of the enclosure for a while, stopping occasionally to watch the cubs. After what felt like an interminable wait, the last cub was ready to arrive. Sala’s low keening punctuated the air just as the first creeping rays of dawn broke on the horizon.

“Here it comes,” Alex whispered, watching as Sala expelled the last cub with a growl. The cub tumbled out, fluids spraying. Alex hurried to check the cub. It was limp in her hands—eerily still and quiet.

“Okay. Okay.” Alex laid the cub on the ground, using the suction device on her nose. Nothing. “Come on.” She knelt down, listening for breath. The cub remained limp and strange, like a too-realistic stuffed animal.

Zatar’s voice was anguished. “Alex—”

Alex ignored him and instead initiated CPR. Press, press, blow. She listened for a breath and repeated the motions. Nothing.

Tears clogged her throat. She performed CPR a third time

And then the cub let out a weak cry.

Zatar’s sigh of relief was so big she thought the guards in the palace might have heard it. She laughed happily, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. “Thank God!” She quickly carried the cub to join her siblings.

Alex checked Sala’s blood pressure one last time. Even though all the cubs had survived, she couldn’t quite calm herself down.

“I think we’re officially done here.” Alex paused as she pressed her stethoscope to another part of her belly. “Her blood pressure is okay now, but she should be monitored until morning.”

“I’ll stay,” Zatar said, at the same time Alex did.

They smiled at each other. Timak bowed and excused himself, a secret smile quirking his lips.

Zatar and Alex stayed with Sala until purplish tints in the black sky gave way to azure streaks, and then sunlight took over so fast they both squinted to adjust. Sala slept peacefully while the cubs nursed, though neither of them had been able to rest in the daze of the night’s events.

Zatar watched as Alex stroked Sala absentmindedly. There was no doubt in his mind. The woman was incredible. Beyond incredible, actually. And he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky to pick her the day he needed help with Sala.

“You’re stunning, do you know that?” He’d been staring at Alex on and off for hours. It might never get old.

She sent him a shy smile. “Thanks.”

“I’m serious. You just delivered three cubs without even batting an eyelash.” He shook his head. He’d be telling this story for eons.

“It’s my job, Zatar.” She grinned lazily, her eyes drifting open and shut. “Besides, Sala did all the work. I just watched.”

As he watched her drift into a light sleep, the realization struck him.

He was in love with her.

The golden hues of daybreak caressed her, cast her into an ethereal light that almost lifted her. It was like his mother was there. Seeing Alex, approving of her. His throat tightened, and he looked away. He was thinking crazy things.

But what wasn’t crazy was how much his mother would have loved Alex. One of the cubs sighed softly from the pile they’d formed in the blankets, tucked up against Sala. Hell, they were practically new parents. And now that his mother was there in spirit, giving them her approval, why not consider the only thing that remained: committing himself to this woman?

He leaned against the cement wall of the enclosure, letting his eyes drift shut. His brain was on overdrive. It needed a rest. And he could rest, now that Sala was fine. The cubs were fine.

Minutes or maybe an hour passed by. A scuffling at his feet made his eyes pop open. Timak gently shook his arm. “Sir. The guards need you outside the enclosure.”

Zatar scrambled to his feet, eyes burning with exhaustion. He staggered after Timak, the enclosure gate clanging shut behind him as he greeted two guards outside.

Before he could speak, both guards took a knee before him.

Zatar blinked lazily, his mind not able to fully comprehend the sight. The guards never kneeled for him. Only for his father. Inside the enclosure, Alex was awake and curious, her bright eyes flitting between him and the guard.

“Your highness.”

Zatar lifted a brow. They never referred to him this way either. “Speak.”

“We have some tragic news to share.” The leader of the palace guards bowed his head, his dark robes flowing down around him. “The King’s helicopter crashed as it was taking off from Cote d'Azur Airport in Nice, France. There were unfortunately no survivors.”

Zatar blinked, his mind still struggling to fully wake up.

“You are now the king of Kattahar.”

Zatar stared at the palace guard for a long time. So long that Alex approached him, shaking him gently through the enclosure bars.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, and dismissed the guard. The news cycled strangely inside him. Alex slipped through the gate, wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and pulled him tight against her.

“Zatar, I’m so sorry.”

Tears threatened at the corners of his eyes, but none made the leap. He frowned down at the ground, half hugging Alex with one arm. His entire body felt dull and useless. The guard’s words churned inside him, and Zatar could not settle on a single emotion. Shock melted into grief into relief into anger.

Anger about what remained unsaid, the ways in which his father deserved something for the disrespect paid to his late mother. Relief that now the obstacles were gone. The ridiculous rules and restrictions were magically dissolved. And shock, because maybe he’d misheard. Maybe this wasn’t real at all.

Zatar melted into Alex’s embrace, the only thing that could anchor him in this moment.