The sun was hot and unforgiving when the den finally stirred with purpose.
Kraven had grown stronger over the past few weeks. His limbs, once unsteady and soft, were now packed with budding muscle. His tiny claws found traction in the dirt. He could tumble, wrestle, even swat his brothers in mock fights without flopping over like a newborn pup.
But something was different this morning.
His mother—whom he now recognized as the center of their world—was tense. Her muscles coiled with energy as she nudged each of her six sons awake. Her eyes scanned the savannah outside the den, ears twitching at the rustle of grass. The time had come.
They were leaving the den.
Bran, the boldest, was already trying to get ahead, his small paws carrying him clumsily toward the entrance. Tavi made a racket, his tail flicking with excitement. Finn tripped twice on the same root. Mika stuck close to their mother, cautious and quiet. Leo, the sleepy one, yawned so hard he fell over.
Kraven didn't speak, of course. He couldn't—not with words. But something deep inside him stirred.
The pride… we're going to the pride.
He had read about it in his old life. Lionesses give birth away from the group, in secluded dens. They raise their cubs alone for the first few weeks to protect them. Only when the cubs are strong enough do they return.
This was that day.
Their mother led the way, her sleek form moving with silent authority. The six cubs followed, tumbling and bouncing, their little legs trying to keep up. Kraven stuck close to the middle, not too fast, not too slow. Observing. Thinking.
The world outside the den was vast.
Open grasslands stretched far and wide, dotted with acacia trees and the occasional termite mound. The wind carried scents so rich and varied it was overwhelming—dust, dung, blooming flowers, prey animals, and something new.
Something familiar.
Lions.
The scent of others.
The pride.
They arrived at midday.
It wasn't a dramatic scene—no fanfare, no roaring—but to Kraven, it felt like stepping into another world. The pride was gathered beneath the shade of a wide tree whose roots twisted above the ground like sleeping snakes. There were lionesses—at least four of them—not including his mother. They lounged lazily in the grass, some grooming each other, others dozing.
But what stole Kraven's breath was him.
The lion.
The father.
He was massive.
Larger than anything Kraven had seen before—more mountain than beast. His mane was thick and dark, almost black around the edges, with streaks of gold in the sunlight. His eyes were amber fire, piercing and unreadable. Scars lined his flanks, silent testimonies of battles fought and won.
And when he stood to greet them, the ground seemed to tremble beneath his paws.
Kraven instinctively shrank back, but his mother continued forward without hesitation. She rubbed her head beneath the massive male's chin in a greeting so tender it startled Kraven. This mountain of power—this king—responded with a deep, rumbling purr and nuzzled her in return.
Their father.
My father…
The lion sniffed each of the cubs in turn. Bran puffed up with pride and even let out a tiny growl, which the big lion ignored. Tavi tried to swat his mane and got batted away with a gentle paw. Finn rolled onto his back and played dead. Mika froze like a statue, while Leo simply yawned again.
When the great lion reached Kraven, he paused.
Something flickered behind his eyes.
Recognition? Curiosity?
Then he huffed and moved on, taking his place under the tree once more.
Kraven let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
The lionesses approached next. Each came in turn, sniffing, licking, inspecting the six new additions to the pride. Kraven was startled by how different they all looked. One was pale, almost sand-colored, with a missing chunk in her ear. Another was sleek and golden with striking black markings around her eyes. One had deep amber fur like firelight. The last was darker, bulkier, her gaze sharper than the others.
Behind them came more cubs—older than Kraven and his brothers.
There were at least eight, all ranging in age. Some were still young enough to play; others looked to be close to adolescence, with longer legs and the beginnings of muscle under their coats. The moment the new cubs were deemed "approved," chaos erupted.
Bran immediately challenged the older cubs, bouncing into their group like he owned it. Tavi squealed and charged after him. Finn followed—more out of excitement than understanding. Leo sat and blinked at them as if wondering why everyone was so loud.
Mika hesitated.
And Kraven… Kraven watched.
There were politics here. Hierarchies. Bonds he didn't yet understand. This wasn't like his quiet apartment, where everyone had their space and routine. This was life—raw, untamed, and competitive.
Later that day, as the cubs played under the watchful gaze of the lionesses, Kraven wandered close to his mother, who lay in the shade, grooming her paw. She looked down at him and licked his head softly.
He felt safe beside her.
For the first time since waking in this new body, Kraven allowed himself to relax.
He looked around at the pride—their pride.
There was strength here. Family. Danger, yes—but also belonging.
He saw the way the lionesses lay close, always aware. The way the older cubs challenged one another without hesitation. The way the great male lion surveyed everything without moving, a living monument to power.
Kraven realized he would have to grow, to fight, to earn his place.
But unlike his past life, where solitude had been his only shield, here he had five brothers at his side.
Together, they were stronger.
And deep within, a flame flickered—a sense of destiny he couldn't yet explain.
This world was different. Fierce.
But so was he.
And this time, he would rise not as a man who loved animals…
But as one of them.
As a lion.