Chapter 212: Morning Sickness
The atmosphere of the camp shifted from a heavy, suffocating silence to a frantic, bustling energy.
Felicity didn’t just walk out of the portal; she practically danced, her golden tail swishing with a rhythmic, joyful bounce that made the bells in her hair chime like a celebration. She looked revitalized, glowing with the kind of radiance that only came from being thoroughly pampered and thoroughly claimed.
She reeked of her husband’s. It wasn’t just a faint scent; it was a heavy, intoxicating musk of oak, shadows, and rain that clung to her skin like a second layer. For the men of the Snow and Leaf teams, who were still reeling from those vivid, shared dreams where they had felt the phantom warmth of her presence, the scent was an absolute mental wrecking ball.
"Good morning, everyone!" Felicity chirped, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous light. She reached into her pocket dimension and began pulling out baskets of steaming dumplings, dried fruits, and honey-glazed meats her men had prepped in her sanctuary.
She moved through the ranks, personally handing out the food. Each time she leaned in to hand a man a snack, her scent slammed into him, sharp and inescapable. Hearts hammered with awe and want; the men, undone, reached for her offerings with trembling hands and eyes wide with longing.
Ash, Pope, Kai, and Sam were steady in the chaos, faces lit with open, blissful adoration. Their eyes shimmered with love, so absolute it seemed to outshine every other emotion in the camp.
"See?" Pope whispered, popping a honeyed nut into his mouth. "She is the light. The fact that the husbands have blessed her so thoroughly only proves her divinity; it’s all part of the beauty of the light."
"The Church of the Light has never looked better," Ash agreed, his fingers twitching with the urge to weave a celebratory tapestry in her honour.
Legend, standing nearby, watched the exchange with a thoughtful, narrowed gaze. Usually a sceptic, he found himself nodding slowly. "I’m starting to see the appeal," he muttered. "If the ’light’ means protecting that kind of joy... I might be in."
Victor watched the interactions with a possessive, almost feral pride. He knew exactly what he was doing by letting her drift among the men, thrilling at the way they glanced at her; he wanted them to feel the invisible scorch of his claim. She dazzled them, but burned only for him.
"In an hour, when we hit the flats below the ridge, we’re stopping," Victor announced, his voice booming over the chatter. "Everyone who isn’t on scout rotation will be training. Duels, endurance, and power cycling. If you have enough energy to dream, you have enough energy to sweat."
A collective groan went up, but it was tempered by the sight of Felicity’s bright smile as she reached Tommy.
"Here you go, Tommy! I saved the biggest meat bun for you," she said, leaning in close.
Tommy, who was currently a bright, flaming shade of scarlet, looked at her, then at the meat bun, and then at the looming silhouettes of her husbands behind her and his brain, well, lacking a brain, seemingly short-circuited.
SPLASH.
Without a word, a massive bucket’s worth of conjured water materialised over his own head and dumped itself straight down his neck, soaking him to the bone in a desperate attempt to cool his skyrocketing body temperature.
Felicity blinked, her hand still holding the bun out as Tommy stood there dripping and shivering. "Huh? Tommy? Did... did you just get too hot?"
The entire clearing exploded. Lucan let out a sharp bark of laughter, leaning against a tree, while Voss and Ivan chuckled deeply. Even the stoic Dimitri had to turn away to hide a smirk.
"He’s just... practising his quick-casting, little one," Voss rumbled. He stepped forward, wrapped an arm around Felicity’s waist, and pulled her back to his chest so the men could get one last, lingering whiff of his scent on her.
"Well, it’s very effective!" Felicity laughed, oblivious to the internal crisis she was causing. "Eat up, Tommy! You’ll need it for the duels!"
As the pack moved out, the mood was lighter than it had been in days. They were a mess of obsessed, jealous, and devoted protectors, but as they looked at Felicity bouncing along at the front of the line, her silver tail wagging, they knew they would follow her straight into the heart of hell if she asked.
The laughter of the camp was cut short by a sudden, violent gag.
Felicity’s joyful bounce came to a screeching halt as she lurched forward. Voss, whose arm was already around her, reacted with the lightning reflexes of a wolf. He pivoted her away from his boots just as she let out a messy, wet "Bleh!" onto the mountain grass.
The silence that followed was absolute. Twenty-some elite beastmen stood frozen, meat buns halfway to their mouths.
"Bleh," Felicity repeated, wiping a bit of stray saliva from her chin and looking down at the grass with a look of pure betrayal. "Stupid stomach. I’m a healer, and I can’t even stop a little bit of bile? This is a scam. I’m being scammed by my own body."
She looked up at the circle of men, her face slightly pale but her eyes sparking with fierce, reckless defiance. "I officially hate morning sickness! It’s rude, it’s unprofessional. I was finally having a moment, and it ruined it!"
Voss stepped behind her, his massive, warm hands gathering her golden hair and holding it back in a careful, tender bundle. He began to rub her back in slow, soothing circles, his golden eyes softening with an almost desperate affection. "It’s okay, little one," he murmured, his voice tight with emotion, "the kits are just greedy, and they want all that energy for themselves."
Exile, who had been lurking in her shadow like a silent, protective ghost, slithered forward. He didn’t look at the stunned men, their shock meaning nothing to him. His entire universe narrowed to her trembling form, he pulled a clean, silk cloth from his belt and, with a feather-light touch, wiped her mouth, his hand shaking with the weight of his fear for her.