Felicity's Beast World Apocalypse

"...there," she murmured faintly, voice soft and worn, as she had finally reached something she could rest against.

Voss didn’t move.

He did not loosen his hold.

His hand pressed warmly to her back—steady, intentional. Despite his calm, a flicker of worry flashed in his eyes each time he glanced at her, checking for even a hint of fever or panic. His presence, focused and unwavering, quietly anchored her as she teetered at the edge.

It was only when the tension in her body stopped tightening and started melting that the room shifted again.

The door opened quietly. Lucan stepped in first, and Exile followed. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to.

Immediately, their presence filled the space—heavy, watchful, edges bristling with tension. Their attention locked onto her the instant they saw her curled against Voss, her relief flickering across her face as the signs of her bloom finally eased.

Lucan exhaled slowly, something in his shoulders finally loosening. "...it’s dropped," he said quietly. Voss gave a small nod. "Stabilising," Exile said nothing. He moved closer, careful this time. He didn’t reach for her right away—just closed the distance, close enough to feel her presence without overwhelming her.

Felicity stirred slightly at the shift, her body reacting before her mind did, her hand moving faintly as if searching, as if making sure they were still there. They were.

Lucan settled on her other side. He was close but controlled, his body angled just enough to be a barrier, not a crowd. Exile lowered himself nearby, his posture quieter, but just as present. His attention never left her.

For the first time since it had begun, the tension in the room changed. It wasn’t sharp anymore. It wasn’t on the edge of breaking.

Felicity let out a soft breath, her body finally giving in to the exhaustion pulling at her, her head resting more fully against Voss as the last of the restless energy faded into something softer. Something safer. Not one of them was willing to leave her side. Not after that.

Felicity stirred slowly. It was the kind of movement that came from deep exhaustion rather than rest. Heavy-limbed, she found her body slow to respond, awareness returning in fragments. The warmth around her was what she noticed first—steady, grounding. Then the presence: all eyes on her.

She opened her eyes just enough to see. Exile was watching her. Not moving. Not blinking much either. Just... watching, like he had been there for a while, like he hadn’t trusted himself to look away even for a second.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then something shifted beside her.

Voss.

He moved with quiet precision, adjusting the blanket before gently lifting her to clean her. His movements were careful and methodical, unbothered by the intimacy. This was simply part of taking care of her. His focus was steady as he replaced what she had been wearing with something softer, lighter, more comfortable.

Felicity’s face flushed.

"...I can do that," she muttered weakly, her voice still rough from everything she had been through.

"You could," Voss replied calmly, not pausing, "but you won’t."

Before she could argue, another presence leaned in.

Lucan.

His hand brushed lightly against her hair before he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his expression far calmer than it had been before, though the tension hadn’t fully left him. "Welcome back, little bunny," he murmured quietly.

Felicity blinked rapidly, lashes trembling, as her thoughts struggled to catch up. Each heartbeat drummed harder in her chest, embarrassment flushing her cheeks red now that the haze faded and everything pressed in at once.

"I—" she started, then stopped, then turned her face slightly away. "...I remember some of it."

Lucan didn’t react to that. Instead, he shifted slightly, his voice lowering just a fraction. "You should cast heal. Your body’s taken more than it should have."

Felicity hesitated half a second, then nodded."...right." Her hand lifted weakly. The familiar motion grounded her as she cast it over herself. The effect settled in immediately, warmth replacing the lingering strain, her body stabilising properly for the first time since it all started. She exhaled and looked around. That’s when it hit her, "...where’s Victor and Damien. Ivan?"

Voss was the one who answered. "Victor is pushing through," he said, his tone even but not dismissive. "He’s in your space."

Felicity blinked "In my—"

"He’s safe," Voss added before she could spiral. "But he’s locked in. He’s pushing for level one hundred."

Felicity pushed herself up too quickly. Her body immediately disagreed; she dropped back down with a soft, frustrated sound, gripping the bed as she forced herself to breathe. "Okay," she said quickly, already casting Heal again. "Okay, that’s fine, that’s fine. It wasn’t fine."

But she was already moving. "Everyone with me," she added, more firmly now. Lucan didn’t hesitate. Voss didn’t question it.

Exile—was confused but just for a moment, because when the space opened, it wasn’t what he expected. It wasn’t small.

Endless in a way that didn’t make sense, a space shaped by her, held by her, something alive in a way that made his instincts flare for an entirely different reason. "...this is yours," he said quietly. Felicity didn’t answer. She just reached back and took his hand.

He followed. Together, they stepped into it. Victor’s presence was immediate, even unseen. The pressure of his breakthrough filled the space like a storm held just barely in check. But Victor wasn’t the problem; he was still asleep.Damien was. The moment they appeared, his head snapped toward them, and the reaction was instant.

Violent. His body shifted without hesitation, form stretching, twisting, scales replacing skin as he dropped into his snake form, aggression flaring so fast it didn’t leave room for thought.

His focus locked onto Exile. And he moved. Exile reacted just as fast. His own form shifted in response, body lowering, muscles coiling as he met the movement head-on, instincts answering instincts without needing permission.

"Stop—" Felicity tried, her voice still weak, her body not fully recovered as she stepped forward.

They were already colliding. The tension in the space spiked instantly, raw and dangerous, something that could spiral if it wasn’t shut down immediately.

Voss moved. His form shifted cleanly, controlled power snapping into place as he stepped between them, his wolf form grounding the space in a way nothing else could, his presence heavier, absolute.

"Enough," he commanded.

Damien didn’t stop immediately, but he slowed. Just enough. Voss’s gaze didn’t waver. "She just came out of heat," he said, his voice low, steady, leaving no room for argument. "She is exhausted. Deal with it later, take care of her instead."

Felicity stood there, still catching her breath, still trying to steady herself as she looked between them, the weight of everything settling all at once now that the haze was gone.

Damien saw it immediately.

The instability in her stance, the way her body still hadn’t caught up to what it had been through, the slight tremor in her legs that she was trying to hide. The fire in his eyes didn’t vanish, but it shifted, sharp violence softening into something far more focused, far more dangerous in a different way.

Protective. He moved without another word. His form shifted mid-step, not fully, just enough, his lower half slipping into that familiar serpentine shape as he closed the distance and swept her cleanly off her feet before she could protest.

Felicity let out a small sound of surprise, her hands instinctively catching against him, but she didn’t fight it. Didn’t want to. "...Damien," she murmured, her voice softer now, the tension in her shoulders easing the second she was no longer forcing herself to stand.

"I’ve got you," he said quietly, already moving, not looking at anyone else as he carried her deeper into the space. The bath had already been prepared, the large spring-fed pool steaming gently, warmth rolling off it in soft waves as he stepped in carefully, lowering her into it with a level of care that bordered on reverent. She sank into it immediately, a quiet breath leaving her as the heat soaked into her muscles, easing what the healing magic hadn’t fully reached.

Damien held her close, his touch tender and reassuring as he caressed her hair with deliberate care. With each soft kiss he placed on her head, it was as if he sought solace in the connection they shared. "I missed you," his voice, deep and filled with regret, whispered against her skin. The sincerity in his words echoed the longing in his touch, a silent promise of presence and devotion.

Felicity blinked up at him, her expression softening. "You are now," she said quietly. "I wasn’t," he corrected, his hand tightening slightly in her hair before relaxing again. "Not when it mattered."

His gaze moved over her, searching, checking, not satisfied with what he saw, even though she was clearly stabilising. "Were they gentle?" he asked, voice dropping, controlled but edged, "did they take care of you properly?"

Felicity’s cheeks flushed faintly at that, but she nodded, slow and certain, "They did." She leaned forward slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering just long enough to ground the moment before pulling back again "...what about Victor?"