Baby System: I'm the Beast World's Only Hope!-Chapter 92: Episode : The Tiger’s Claim [19+]

The Red Moon hung in the sky like a swollen, bloodshot eye, staring directly into the Roxy’s

Roxy tried to close her eyes, but Torian wouldn’t let her.

"Look at me," the Tiger King commanded, his voice a guttural purr that vibrated against her chest. "Look at who owns you tonight."

He was heavy. He had solid muscle and heat, pressing her down into the Cloud-Goose mattress until she felt like she was drowning in silk and tiger musk.

When he had first dragged her into the room, Roxy had expected violence. She expected the "Feral" madness Mara had warned her about—claws, biting, pain.

But Torian wasn’t violent. He was intense.

He was methodical, relentless, and overwhelmingly large.

"You are... too big," Roxy gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust into her with a slow, grinding rhythm that hit her cervix every single time.

Torian laughed through his pants, sweat dripping from his white-gold hair onto her face. "Well enjoy your time."

Roxy groaned. Her words had come back to slap her.

The sheer size of him was staggering. He was thicker than Kaelen, longer than Zarek, and possessed a terrifying endurance that felt endless.

He stretched her beyond what she thought was possible, filling her so completely that she couldn’t even catch her breath.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t the sweet, frantic mating of the Wolf, or the passionate, fiery claiming of the Dragon. He was worshiping her like his possession.

"Mine," Torian growled, his pupils blown so wide his blue eyes were black. "You were made for this. Made to take a Tiger."

He grabbed her hips, his large hands bruising her skin, and picked up the pace.

Roxy’s head fell back, a broken sob tearing from her throat. The pleasure was there, biology and the System’s buffs ensured that, but it was mixed with a sense of overwhelming surrender.

[System Notification: Host Pulse Critical. Dopamine Levels: Max. Durability Buff active. Just... hang on, girl.]

Shut up, Roxy mentally screamed as Torian slammed into her again. I’m going to split in half!

But at the same time, it’s so good, I can’t think anymore.

Torian leaned down to lick the sweat from her neck. His tongue was rough, rasping over her sensitive skin. "Take my seed. Give me an heir. Become my Empress."

For fuck sake, stop talking and just fuck me and be done with it!

Torian went rigid. A low, terrifying roar built in his chest. He drove into her one last time, burying himself to the hilt, and held her there.

Roxy screamed, her body convulsing around him as he poured his seed into her. Roxy felt like her insides were on fire. It went on for an eternity, wave after wave of potent, hot seed flooding her womb.

He collapsed on top of her, his weight crushing but comforting in a strange way.

"Roxy," he breathed against her hair, his voice sounding like a sleepy kitten now. "My jewel."

Roxy lay there, staring at the ceiling, her chest heaving. She felt stretched, sore, and thoroughly thoroughly bred.

[System Item Activated: Contraceptive Tea (Duration: 24hrs). Conception Blocked. No Tiger Cubs today, thank you very much.]

Thank God, Roxy thought, closing her eyes for a second.

Torian didn’t move. The post-Rut crash hit him like a hammer. Within seconds, his breathing evened out. Then, a soft snore escaped him.

The Tiger King was asleep.

Roxy waited five minutes. Ten. She counted his breaths.

Slowly, carefully, she wiggled out from under him. It wasn’t easy. He was dead weight, and her legs felt like jelly. She slid off the bed, her feet hitting the cold floor, and nearly collapsed.

"Ow," she hissed, grabbing the nightstand. She felt sticky and sore.

She grabbed a pitcher of water and a cloth, doing a quick, frantic cleanup. She found her gold dress on the floor—torn at the shoulder—and pulled it on. It was ruined, but it covered her.

She looked back at Torian. He looked peaceful. He looked like an angel.

"You enjoyed that too much," she whispered bitterly.

Then she remembered.

Zarek. Kaelen.

They were locked in the guest wing. Torian had said he suppressed them, but the Red Moon was at its peak now. If Torian needed that much release to calm down, what were her husbands going through?

Roxy grabbed her shoes, she wasn’t going to wear those torture devices, and padded barefoot to the door. She cracked it open.

The hallway was empty. The guards had retreated to the lower barracks to ride out the Rut in safety.

Roxy ran.

She followed her nose—or rather, the System’s mini-map. She ran through the corridors, past statues of tigers and tapestries of gold, until she reached the West Wing.

She didn’t need the map anymore. She could hear them.

A low, constant growl echoed from behind a heavy iron-wood door at the end of the hall. Then the sound of something smashing.

"Zarek," she gasped.

She reached the door. It was locked. She could even smell their pheromones from outside the door.

"System, unlock it!"

[System Override: 500 LP. Unlocking...]

Click.

Roxy pushed the heavy door open and slipped inside.

The room was a disaster zone.

The furniture had been reduced to dust. The curtains were shredded. Scorch marks blackened the stone walls where Zarek had lashed out. The air was thick, hot, and smelled of distressed Alpha pheromones.

In the corner, Kaelen was pacing like a caged animal. He was naked, butt naked. His chest was heaving, covered in sweat. He was clawing at his own arms, drawing blood to distract himself from the madness.

Zarek was slumped against the far wall, his head in his hands. They looked up when she entered.

For a second, there was silence.

Then, they smelled her.

They smelled the Tiger. They smelled the sex. They smelled the claim.

It snapped the last thread of their sanity.

"ROXY," Zarek called out for her, scrambling to his feet. He didn’t look human. His eyes were burning gold.

"You smell of Him," Kaelen snarled, his voice a broken, jagged thing.

Roxy didn’t have time to speak.

The next minute, Zarek slammed her against the wall next to the door.

"Ah!" Roxy gasped as her back hit the stone.

Zarek pinned her there, his hands clamping onto her shoulders. He leaned in, burying his face in her neck, inhaling frantically.

"Him," Zarek hissed, his tongue swiping over the spot where Torian had licked her. "He touched you. He filled you. I can smell his seed on you."

"Zarek, please," Roxy whimpered, her hands gripping his biceps. "I had to. To save you."

"Save us?" Kaelen was there now. He came up behind Zarek, crowding her. He dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around her waist, burying his face in her stomach.

He bit her through the dress. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to bruise.

"You smell wrong," Kaelen sobbed into her belly. "You smell like a Cat. Fix it. Fix it!"

"I’m trying!" Roxy tried to sound as soft as possible. So they would at least calm down before they see her as meat. "I’m here! I came back!"

"Not enough," Zarek growled. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. His face was twisted in agony. "The Rut... it is burning my blood, Roxy. Knowing he had you... while we sat here in the dark..."

He pressed his hips against hers. He was hard as stone, throbbing with a desperate, painful need.

"I need to erase him," Zarek pleaded, his voice cracking. "I need to put my scent back on you. I need to burn him out."

Kaelen’s hands moved lower, gripping her thighs, pulling her legs apart. He nuzzled her crotch, inhaling the scent of the Tiger’s claim. He let out a feral snarl that vibrated against her bone.

"Please," Kaelen begged, looking up at her with wild, wet eyes. "Let us in. Let us claim you back. Or I will die."

Roxy looked at them. They were suffering. They were in physical pain because they couldn’t reach her.

And god help her, the sight of them—desperate, possessive, and broken—woke something up in her that the Tiger hadn’t touched.

"Okay," Roxy whispered, her voice trembling. "Okay."

She reached down to tangle her hand in Kaelen’s hair and pulled Zarek closer by his robe.

"Do whatever you want," she commanded softly.