Felicity's Beast World Apocalypse-Chapter 71: Scent 18+

Then he dragged it back under control The air was drowning in her now.

It was devastating The guards outside the door shifted too Even through stone Even through wood.

Her scent was bleeding into the corridor.

The Supreme stood slowly Not rushed, His voice was low and dangerous.

"Enough."

The generals’ breathing was ragged now. One of them half rose from his seat before forcing himself back down The Supreme’s gaze cut through him like a blade.

"You will sit."

The general obeyed instantly But his body was betraying him.

Hard

Feral.

The Supreme walked around the table each step deliberate he stopped in front of Felicity.

She looked up at him and for the first time

She felt small Actually small.

Because he wasn’t just disciplined He was fighting instinct and winning.

Barely.

"You will not do that again," he said quietly.

"I—" her voice shook. "I didn’t mean to."

He believed her that was the terrifying part He thought she was just like this.

Naturally and unfairly Irresistibly, He leaned down slightly, voice dropping.

"You are going to get someone killed."

Her eyes widened She trembled slightly "Why."

"Because my men," he said evenly, "are one breath away from tearing each other apart to get to you." The generals didn’t deny it They couldn’t.

They were shaking.

Hungry.

Eyes fixed on her.

If he gave one wrong order the room would explode.

Felicity’s bloom spiked again in panic It thickened and sweetened.

The generals made broken sounds in their throats The Supreme swore under his breath Not loud.

"Control yourself."

"I’m trying," she whispered her hands trembled slightly she wasn’t pretending now.

She was scared.

He stepped closer Too close.

Close enough that she could feel the heat off him Close enough that his shadow fell over her completely. "I should lock you away," he said quietly.

The generals stiffened Not in agreement.

In protest Instinct screamed sharing.

Pack.

Access.

The Supreme’s voice went colder. "I should keep you where no one else can smell you."

The generals’ jaws clenched Beast law trembled under the threat.

Felicity’s heart hammered.

"You’re frightening me."

He did not soften.

"Good."

The word hit hard "You should be frightened," he continued evenly. "Because if I lose control for one second in this room, you will not be able to walk out of it."

The generals’ breathing went uneven again they wanted her every single one of them.

Wanted to mark her and brand her.

Claim her.

The Supreme’s gaze burned "I do not share," he said bluntly.

The generals went still even in the beast world where sharing was law.

He rejected it. "I will not have you passed around like rationed meat."

His voice was almost disgusted "You will not be communal."

Felicity’s breath shook "I don’t want to be." the bloom surged again in that moment.

Because fear and instinct collided. The scent flooded the room.

The generals made rough sounds in their throats.

One’s hand actually hit the table in a restrained slam.

The Supreme snapped not uncontrolled Controlled fury.

"OUT" The word cracked like a whip.

The generals stood instantly but they hesitated.

One second.

Because leaving meant losing her scent Losing proximity.

The Supreme’s eyes flashed.

"If you hesitate again, I will have you executed."

That did it they left.

Not because they weren’t hungry.

Because he would kill them.

But the air was still thick with her the Supreme stood in front of her.

Breathing slow "You are dangerous," he said.

Felicity swallowed "I don’t mean to be."

He believed that too which made it worse.

He leaned closer not touching.

But so close she could feel his breath against her hair.

"If I decide to keep you," he said quietly, "it will not be for the city."

Her heart jumped.

"It will be because I want you."

Blunt.

"You can’t just take me," she whispered.

His eyes darkened.

"I can."

Silence he straightened slightly.

"But I won’t" that was worse because it meant he was choosing restraint.

For now.

"You will stay near me," he said. "You will not walk alone. You will not let your scent flood my corridors." His voice dropped.

"And you will not make my men imagine putting their marks on you."

The guards outside shifted again, They were imagining it.

All of them.

The Supreme’s jaw tightened.

"I should chain you," he muttered.

Felicity’s eyes widened.

"You won’t."

His gaze burned. "No," he said quietly. "Because if I do, I will not stop at chains."

Her bloom pulsed again at the edge of fear.

The room warmed he exhaled sharply "You are going to break this city."

Felicity’s voice was small "I don’t want to."

His answer was immediate "It doesn’t matter what you want." He stepped back finally.

Just one step but it gave her air.

"You will return to your room," he said His voice was steady again. "They will not touch you," he added quietly. "Because I said so."

Ownership.

She stood slowly Her legs felt unsteady.

He watched her like a starving man forcing himself to fast.

And when she walked past him, the scent trailed in her wake like a promise.

The guards in the corridor went rigid when she emerged eyes flicked over her.

Hungry.

Marking instincts burning none moved. Because inside that room, the Supreme had decided something.

When he pushed open the door to her room, his nostrils flared, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His eyes never left her face, tracking her movements as she slipped past him. A muscle jumped in his jaw. The scent of Ivan hidden behind the curtains drifted through the air, but he missed it entirely, too consumed with controlling the growl building in his chest.

"I will return tomorrow for you." His voice dropped an octave, rumbling through the small space. "Be ready."

Felicity burst into her room, chest heaving, and collapsed against the wall. Her fingers clawed at the fabric of her shirt as she fought for control but it was already too late. Her bloom erupted from her skin like a supernova, saturating every molecule of air, seeping through walls and cracks with predatory intent.

In the adjacent room, Ivan’s scream died in his throat as the wave hit him, his body convulsing as her raw power liquefied his defence and shredded him from the inside out.

She fled into her space like a hunted animal, heart hammering against her ribs, thighs pressed together against the shameful heat pooling there. The Supreme’s eyes had cut through her like knives, but Ivan’s smell had left fire in its wake. "Sorry, Ivan," she whispered to the empty room, the apology tasting like a lie even to herself.

And while in there ivan tried to control the massive hard on he had.

Once Felicity calmed down she went to change her clothes in her space only for something to glitch and her to appear back half dressed infront of ivan.

Only half in her clothes.

Literally. She had one sleeve on, the shirt trapped around her torso, the rest of her bare and haphazard, tangled in an oversized hoodie that failed entirely to conceal the fact she wore nothing underneath it. Her hair was wild. Her cheeks, nuclear. She looked like an apologetic ghost caught mid-haunt.

Ivan blinked.

"I-oh," she squeaked, hands darting to the hem, then to the zipper, then flailing helplessly as if unsure what disaster to contain first. "I didn’t mean to-I was just-" She lurched for her space again, but Ivan moved on reflex, catching her wrist with a gentle, unshakable certainty.

She froze. Her breath shook. Ivan dipped his head, voice a quiet rasp, "Don’t."

He meant, don’t go. Don’t vanish.

Not now. Not like this.

She blinked up at him, eyes bright and wet, then let her breath out slow, trembling, as if she would collapse if not for his hand on her.

"Sorry," he whispered, and in a rare moment of self-doubt, actually meant it.

She smirked, still trying to tuck herself further into the hoodie, but failing spectacularly. "I’m not," she said, almost too quietly to hear.

He kissed her.

He meant to be careful. Just a touch at first, testing her resolve, but she surged up awkward tangle of limbs and wool and wild hair and locked him in place with a growling, hungry sound that didn’t suit her at all.

His hands found her waist, then her back, the space beneath the hoodie, and she shivered against him like a cutwire, barely holding together.

She tasted like fear and hope and something he’d once thought he’d never have again.

Her hands slid to his shoulders, clutching so hard his skin threatened to bruise. "You’re not going to tease me about this?" she mumbled into his mouth, nearly indignant.

He laughed, breaking away just enough to see her. Really see her hair agitated, lips red, eyes wide and wild and so impossibly alive.

"Little girl. I have been in agony since the day you smiled at me."

He pulled her closer, savoring the shock in her inhale, the way her heart hammered against his ribs. "You think I’mteasing?"

She bit his lip, not gently. "You do nothing but tease."

Those were the last words either of them managed for a while.

They fell into the bedroom like a wrong note in a lullaby a caught heel in carpet, a backward tug of the hoodie, a giggle cut off by the impossible press of his mouth on hers, fingers in her hair, at her jaw, at her hip, everywhere at once.

The door didn’t close; it crashed into the wall and stayed there, a fussy witness. Ivan’s hands were everywhere, dragging the hoodie up and off, gripping at her thighs, her waist, any part of her that might try to vanish again.

Felicity’s skin was fevered and then ice-cold against his hands, an uncertainty that flared electric every time his lips made contact with bare flesh. She gasped every time as if she expected pain, or surprise, or some new transformation, but there was only the growl in his chest and the way he worshipped her with hands and lips and the sound of her name, reverent and secret, over and over.

The bed creaked, groaned, accepted the collapse of bodies that never stopped wrangling for leverage.

Ivan made a show of still having the upper hand, but she learned quickly, biting his lower lip again and digging her nails into the muscle just above his collarbone, sucking in air, oxygen, and new want with every gasp.

She said his name like a challenge now. "Ivan. Ivan." Each time sharper, almost mocking. But she arched for him, met every press, every hot clutch at her inner thighs, every thumbprint he set into her shivering flesh.

He stripped off his shirt, more sleeves than fabric, and she stilled him with two hands on his face. For a moment, just a moment, it was not urgent. She touched the side of his cheek with the back of her hand, soft, tripping along the line of his jaw as if familiarizing herself with this body she’d always been too shy to imagine fully. "I want you to.."

Her voice cracked open, failed, then rebuilt. "I want you here. Really here. Can you?"

He nearly laughed. Or cried. Maybe both.

He pressed his hands to her ribs, felt her heart sprinting. His voice came out ruined, "Tell me again."

She cleared her throat, defiant, "I want you."

Then, softer: "I want you so much it hurts."

He lost himself.

There was no slow now. He pushed her into the blankets and kissed her until her legs locked around his hips and he became what he’d always been: a weapon, a shield, an animal with an ordinary man’s memory. For once, neither of them tried to hide from the hunger.

He wanted to bring her to her knees, wanted his cock to take up so much of her head that nothing but him mattered, wanted her to remember every other moment she’d been with someone else and see it for what it was, a filler, a draft, an obvious mistake.

There was nothing delicate about the way he turned her; there was only the driven, greedy certainty of a man who’d spent too long starved, his trembling hands parting her thighs, his body seizing her as if she might bolt at any moment.