Maternal Instincts Novels & Stories

The thought of having a whole living being growing inside of me was overwhelming enough and now that it kicked, well the emotion only doubled. Instinctively, I wrapped my hand around my tummy in a protective way, the motherly instinct to protect the child at any cost taking over my thoughts. It's crazy how you just feel the need to protect someone you haven't even met yet. How you are willing to give your life just to save theirs when you have no idea how they even look? This is something I still couldn't grasp but embraced the feeling anyway. The bond between a mother and her child is beyond mere explanation.

"Open your eyes. We need you." Justice blankets me and our baby with warmth to protect us from whatever is happening outside my mind. Everything else fades away. I sense another surge of pain. My pack members howl in agony. A piece of me wants to feel it. The distant part of me that craves the feeling of pain and destruction tries to push through. The maternal instinct to protect my baby is stronger. I push everything away and keep her safe from it all. Safe with Justice and me in the darkness enveloping us. It doesn't matter how long we will be there. I have her and she has me and Justice. Nothing else matters.

My tongue swirled over his as my body felt heated all over again. "I can't resist you," I whined. "Goddess, her fucking heat!" Drake grunted, his teeth scraping my neck. "She won't calm down until we mark her, fuck her senseless, and fill her with little pups," Chase added, his mouth sucking hard on my skin. River pulled back, his canines elongating and my eyes widening "No! If you mark me, then our son will be born. We aren't ready. We can't fail him." I pleaded. A strong maternal instinct to protect my unborn child erased any lust consuming me.

How could my individual frame ever manifest the skills of a good mother when my own history lacked a female guide to map out the trail? My boots wander aimlessly across the scent trails of the medical outpost before my physical hunger finally forces a decision to hunt down a platter of game meat. However, before my brain even decodes the subconscious strategy, my hands find themselves strictly selecting only the specific nutritional herbs and clean waters that safeguard a developing womb, actively avoiding every single toxic root that poses a threat to a cub. The exact watch my intellect registers this automated behavioral pattern, my claws aggressively tear through my hair in pure, absolute

The way I was holding onto my pride while everything crumbled made his expression soften. "Thank you. And... I’m sorry for how my mother is acting." "Why apologize for her? It’s the instinct of a Matriarch to vet her son’s mate. She’s doing it because you’re her kin. I understand the pressure." As a scholar and a mentor, he’d dealt with enough pack elders to recognize a territorial defense when he saw one. I bit my lip, unable to explain the jagged, twisted reality of our family dynamic—or my mother’s pathological need for total dominance.

Unforgivable. But as I looked at her so small, so broken, so utterly lost in the midst of this h*lllscape another feeling surged, fierce and undeniable. It wasn't calculation. It wasn't about the loophole. It was a primal, maternal pull, a recognition of profound, unbearable suffering. The same instinct that had made me push myself to come here, despite my own pain. This child needed safety. She needed shelter. She needed someone to hold her while her world lay in smouldering ruins.

he added. “Buh buh b-but how ?” I stuttered as I saw the image of a figment of the future. Maternal instincts were already kicking in me as I saw the cute little versions of Danielle, Aira and me !! There were one, two, three, …. what the fvck ! There were nine of them !!!!!! And yes you read it right. I said maternal instincts. Not paternal. “Did you not have sex ed in school, Chester ?” Mom teased.

My blood bubbled in anger at the mention of that goddess awful group of people and the fact that my father chose to associate Donald with them made my stomach churn in disgust. “No, father. Donald wasn’t one of…those…people,” I couldn’t even get the words out of my mouth and intense glares from a number of pack members burned holes into my skin. It doesn’t take divine wisdom to know that that was my only flaw in the eyes of my people. My hatred for anything and anyone who breaks the natural order of things. Especially those faggots. “Hmm. So the only explanation for this crime is none other than bloodlust.” my father stated matter of factly and I lifted my head so fast that I feared it might

And in that moment, I understood fully: my baby and I were caught in a game far larger than either of us could comprehend. That weight of inevitability settled over me, heavy and icy, but the maternal instinct flared brighter than fear, brighter than anger, brighter than despair… I would protect him, no matter the cost. The room was silent, save for the shallow, steady rhythm of my breaths, the slight scrape of my feet against the marble as I shifted slightly. My grandmother’s gaze lingered, calculating, cruel, and completely unmoved by the life growing inside me. “You will remain here,” she said softly, venom wrapped in silk. “Until the bastard is taken from you…”

he said, trying to reassure his father. As the young Bimantara kept his sharp dark eyes fixed on the road ahead, he remembered the nanny's words when he had asked what kind of person would make a good mother for the chubby boy: First and foremost, she must have a mother's instinct. Gentle, caring, and willing to learn how to understand a baby's needs. Since a baby can't say what they want yet, a mother has to understand what the baby wants or needs. Besides a mother, a father also had to understand the baby's needs. Adrian realized right then that he had a lot of homework to do!