Baby System: I'm the Beast World's Only Hope!-Chapter 109: Episode : When Apex Predators Meet.

The tree bark was rough against Roxy’s back, but the man pressing her into it was anything but.

Torian’s lips were a fever dream, hot and demanding, his tongue claiming her mouth with a proficiency that made her toes curl in her boots.

His hand had slid beneath the heavy layers of her winter skirt, finding the bare skin of her thigh, his thumb digging into the soft flesh as he hitched her leg up around his waist.

"Torian," Roxy gasped against his mouth, her hands gripping his silk-clad shoulders. "We’re... we’re in the woods. Anyone could..."

"Let them look," Torian growled, his voice a low vibration against her neck. He pressed his hips forward, the hard ridge of his arousal grinding against her through their clothes.

He moved to kiss the sensitive spot behind her ear, his breath hot and ragged. Roxy’s head fell back, her resistance melting like ice in a furnace.

Until they heard a faint giggle, carried by the wind, and Roxy froze.

Her eyes snapped open.

She shoved Torian’s chest with both hands. Caught off guard by the sudden resistance, the Tiger King stumbled back a step, looking dazed and annoyed, his pupils still blown wide with lust.

"What?" Torian hissed, his voice rough.

Roxy frantically smoothed down her skirt and pointed toward a cluster of pine trees about fifty yards away.

Disappearing behind the trunks were three tails, wolf tails. Three females were scurrying away, their shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

"They saw," Roxy whispered, her face burning so hot she thought she might melt the snow beneath her. "Oh my god.."

She glared at Torian. "This is your fault! ’I’m a King, I take what I want,’" she mocked his earlier tone. "You just gave the village gossip mill enough fuel for a decade!"

"I fail to see the problem," Torian panted, running a hand through his perfect white hair. "They should be honored to witness my royal affection."

"I am leaving," Roxy declared. "I am going home. I am going to lock myself in the bathroom until the party."

She turned and bolted. Torian stood there alone in the clearing.

He watched her go. He watched the way the silk dress, the one he had brought her, swayed around her hips. He watched the way her hair caught the sunlight.

He looked down at himself. He was painfully, achingly hard.

"Damn it," Torian cursed softly, something he learned from Roxy, just a few days of being with her.

Roxy had become a bad influence on him.

Teaching her mates phrases they had never heard and didn’t know the meaning of.

He leaned back against the tree she had just vacated, closing his eyes.

In the Citadel, he had many lovers. Beautiful tigresses, exotic leopards, high-born females who vied for his attention. He would bed them, enjoy them, and then... nothing. The spark would fade. He would get bored. The conquest was always better than the catch.

But Roxy?

He had slept with her. He had watched her give birth to puppies. He had seen her covered in mud, blood, and baby vomit.

And he wanted her more now than he had the day he met her.

The image of her face when she moaned, that unguarded, raw expression she made when pleasure took over, was burned into his retinas. He wanted to see it again. He wanted to be the cause of it, over and over, until he was the only thing she saw.

"I am in trouble," Torian muttered to the empty forest.

He pushed himself off the tree and started walking after her, though he diverted his path toward the steaming hot spring behind the cabin. He was going to need a very long, very hot soak before he could face the others.

***

Three days later.

The Iron-Wood had been transformed.

Under Torian’s strict supervision (and financial backing), the clearing between the Wolf Village and Roxy’s cabin had become a venue fit for the history books.

Massive bonfires roared in designated pits, pushing back the winter chill. Long wooden tables groaned under the weight of roasted meats, vegetables, and barrels of wine. Lanterns hung from the pine trees, casting a warm, golden glow over the snow.

But the atmosphere wasn’t festive. It was tense.

The Wolves, usually the masters of this domain, were skittish. They moved around the edges of the clearing, eyes darting to the sky, ears flattened. They were the hosts, but they knew they were at the bottom of the food chain tonight.

Then, the sky darkened.

Massive shapes descended from the clouds. Their scales blocked out the moonlight, the dragons had arrived. The wind from their wings kicked up a blizzard of snow, forcing the wolves to shield their eyes.

They landed with earth-shaking thuds on the far side of the clearing. Steam hissed as they shifted.

The massive beasts shrank, bones cracking and reforming, until figures stood in the steam.

Malcor stepped forward. He was a tall man with jagged scars running down his neck and eyes that burned like embers. Flanking him were Vorian and Kael. They wore robes made by their females and looked at the wolves with bored indifference.

The wolves bowed. It wasn’t a bow of politeness; it was a bow of biological fear.

Malcor surveyed them, a smirk touching his lips. He liked the fear. It smelled like respect.

"Where is the King?" Malcor rumbled, his voice like gravel.

Before a wolf could answer, the ground began to vibrate. From the southern path, the Tigers arrived.

A procession of ornate carriages pulled by massive Dire-Bears emerged from the trees. But the Tigers didn’t ride inside; they walked alongside them, displaying their strength.

They were draped in silks and gold, a sharp contrast to the simple dragons and fur-clad wolves.

Yet they knew who could kill whom.

Regent Titus led them. Beside him walked his mate, a sleek tigress with sharp eyes. Behind them, the nobles of the Golden Citadel flowed into the clearing like a river of gold and arrogance.

They didn’t look at the wolves. They didn’t acknowledge the food. They looked straight across the clearing at the Dragons.

The air grew heavy. Static electricity crackled as Dragon aura met Tiger aura. It was Fire against Claws. Sky against Earth. None of them wished to acknowledge that the other was strong enough to be an opponent.

Yet the Tigers knew that one breath of the Dragons could burn them, but never kill them. They have had a war before.

And they both acknowledge that they didn’t want it to repeat itself.

The wolves in the middle whimpered, backing away to leave a wide berth between the two powers. Titus stepped forward, his golden robes sweeping the snow. Malcor stepped forward, nonchalantly.

They stopped three feet apart.

"Malcor," Titus said, his voice smooth and dangerous.

"Titus," Malcor replied, his eyes narrowing.

For a second, it looked like they were about to have a full-blown war here.

Then, Titus extended a hand. Malcor looked at it, then gripped it. It wasn’t a friendly shake; it was a test of grip strength. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"The King invites," Titus said. "We answer."

"The Ruler calls," Malcor grunted. "We answer."

They released hands, stepping back to their respective sides, forming two walls of power. The Wolves breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Suddenly, Vorn, Kaelen’s Beta, stepped onto the raised wooden platform in the center of the clearing. He looked terrified to be the center of attention with so many monsters watching, but he puffed out his chest.

"Distinguished guests!" Vorn’s voice cracked, then strengthened. "Dragons of the Peaks! Tigers of the Citadel! Wolves of the Iron-Wood!"

The crowd quieted. Even the Dragons stopped talking.

"Presenting the Hostess of the Gala!" Vorn announced, sweeping his arm toward the cabin. "The Mother of the Iron-Wood! The Luna of the Pack! The Mother of Dragons! The Queen of Tigers! And her mates!"

Silence fell. Absolute, heavy silence.

Hundreds of eyes, golden, blue, red, and violet, turned toward the humble wooden cabin at the edge of the clearing.

The door creaked open. Everyone held their breath.

A/N: I am going to post an image of how they look for the party, with tomorrow’s Chapter! Hope your weekend went fine!