Felicity's Beast World Apocalypse-Chapter 40: Beast Husbands POV

(( bonus :3))

Victor Pov

Victor heard her before he saw her.

Not the crowd. Not the clash of steel. Her.

The sharp clap of her hands cut clean through the noise, bright and unmistakable, like a signal flare fired straight into his spine.

Good. She’s close.

That thought settled him more than breath ever had.

He moved without hesitation, body flowing through the yard with brutal efficiency. Every strike landed where it was meant to. Every parry came a fraction early. He didn’t question it. He didn’t analyze it.

She was watching.

That was enough.

Victor had fought his entire life with no witnesses he cared about. Fought for survival. For position. For territory that never stayed claimed long enough to matter.

This was different.

This wasn’t about winning.

This was about showing her.

Steel rang as he took a blow across the ribs and ignored it, twisting inside the strike to put his opponent off-balance. The man staggered. Victor drove a fist into his throat and sent him down choking.

Don’t look back yet.

He didn’t need to. He could feel her attention like a hand between his shoulder blades, steady and warm. He could almost hear her breath hitch when a blade came too close, the tiny sound she made when she thought he might get hurt.

That sound did dangerous things to him.

Someone rushed him from the side. Victor caught the movement in his periphery and stepped into it, grabbing armor and slamming the man into the ground hard enough to knock the air from his lungs.

Mine, his instincts snarled, not about territory, not about the yard.

About her.

He caught sight of the skirt then, flaring when she bounced on her toes, pleats snapping with each clap. The stitched lettering caught the light. Snow Team. Crooked in places. Hand-done. Permanent.

She’d marked them.

In public.

His jaw clenched hard enough to ache.

She has no idea what that does to men like us.

Someone shouted. Another charged. Victor welcomed it. He let the fight come to him now, loose and precise, every movement carrying the unspoken message he didn’t need to say out loud.

Look. See who stands between you and her.

He broke a guard’s weapon with brute force and drove the man back until he tripped over his own feet. Victor planted a boot on his chest and leaned down just enough to meet his eyes.

"She cheers for me," Victor said quietly.

The man went pale. Victor straightened and turned just in time to hear her voice ring out again, clear and delighted.

"Victor!"

Something hot and fierce unfurled in his chest.

That sound, he thought. That’s the end of the world right there.

He finished the fight moments later, blood on his hands, heart steady, power humming under his skin like a promise kept. When he finally turned, finally let himself look

She was smiling at him.

Not afraid.

Not impressed.

Just happy.

Victor exhaled for the first time since stepping into the yard.

I will burn anything that tries to take this from me. And for the first time since the world fell apart, that thought didn’t feel like a threat.

It felt like a vow.

Voss POV

Voss noticed the pattern before the first blade was drawn.

He always did.

The yard’s rhythm had shifted the moment Felicity stepped into view. Not louder. Tighter.

Like a net pulled just enough to catch everything without tearing.

He adjusted automatically.

Angles sharpened. Distances collapsed. He didn’t need to look at her to feel the effect, but his awareness anchored to her position anyway, a quiet constant in the chaos.

She clapped.

Once.

Voss felt his thoughts lock into place.

There.

His opponent feinted left. Voss didn’t bite. He waited, counted breaths, watched the man’s weight settle wrong in his stance. The opening appeared exactly where it always did when people rushed.

Voss stepped in and dismantled him.

Not brutally.

Thoroughly.

As the man went down gasping, Voss’s gaze flicked, unbidden, toward Felicity. She was smiling, skirt flaring as she bounced lightly on her toes, pride shining through nerves she didn’t even realize she was broadcasting.

She’s not commanding, Voss thought. She’s anchoring.

That was worse.

That meant it wasn’t something that could be turned off.

Someone shouted her name from the opposing side. Voss turned slowly, eyes cold, and the man faltered mid-step like he’d hit an invisible wall.

No, Voss thought calmly. You don’t get to speak to her.

He finished the fight efficiently, stepped back, and wiped blood from his knuckles.

Across the yard, she was watching Victor now, clapping harder, laughing when he moved like nothing in the world could touch him.

Voss felt something unfamiliar tug tight in his chest.

Not jealousy.

Relief.

Good, he thought. Let him bear that weight. I’ll carry the rest.

Damien Pov

Damien did not like crowds.

He liked them less when they noticed her.

The moment she stepped into the yard wearing their name stitched into her clothes, something old and venomous stirred under his skin. Not rage. Recognition.

Marked.

Chosen.

Public.

His coils tightened unconsciously.

He stayed close to her side, not touching, just existing in the space that told predators where not to tread. Every time someone’s attention sharpened too long on her legs, her smile, the way she clapped

Something failed inside them.

A tendon seized. A breath caught wrong. Balance betrayed them.

Damien didn’t push.

He didn’t need to.

Poison worked best when unnoticed.

She laughed suddenly, bright and unguarded, and Damien’s focus slipped for half a heartbeat.

Dangerous, he thought. For me.

She turned and met his eyes mid-fight, cheeks flushed, tail flicking, and gave him a tiny thumbs-up like he was doing well.

His heart stuttered.

He ended his fight quickly after that. Too quickly. The man barely had time to understand why his body wouldn’t obey before he was on the ground, alive but finished.

Damien turned back to her immediately.

She was clapping for him now.

I would ruin worlds for that sound, he realized calmly.

And for the first time since the bond settled into his bones, he understood something essential.

Victor would kill for her.

Voss would plan for her.

Damien would make sure nothing ever reached her in the first place. They lost her once, He made sure it wont be twice.

Tommy Pov

((Hes not a husband))

((Maybe a pet?))

Tommy did not understand what was happening.

At all.

There was yelling. There was fighting. Victor was doing his scary murder-walk thing. Voss was being quiet in the way that meant bones were about to be rearranged. Damien was standing near Felicity like a very angry statue with opinions.

And Felicity was clapping.

Like... proper clapping.

Tommy blinked at her.

Was this... was this for them?

For him?

"Wait," Tommy said aloud, mid-yard, weapon dangling loosely in his hand. "Are we... are we being cheered?"

Someone tried to hit him.

Tommy yelped, ducked entirely by accident, and the blade went over his head. He stared at the guy in shock.

"That was rude," Tommy said.

The man swung again.

Tommy panicked, flailed, tripped over his own boot, rolled between the guy’s legs, popped up behind him, and smacked him square in the back with the flat of his weapon.

The man collapsed.

Tommy stared at the body. "...Huh."

"GO TOMMY!" Felicity yelled.

Tommy screamed. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Not words. Just noise.

He charged the next guy with the confidence of someone who had absolutely no plan and no fear because the cheering had short-circuited his brain entirely.

"I’M DOING IT FOR THE VIBES," he yelled, tripping again and somehow headbutting someone in the stomach.

Chaos followed.

Tommy waved at Felicity mid-fight.

She waved back.

"I’M NEVER LOSING AGAIN," Tommy declared to the sky, before immediately getting tackled and somehow winning anyway.

Later, as he lay flat on his back staring at the clouds, chest heaving, he whispered to Ash, "Do you think if I fight good enough she’ll make me a sandwich too?"

Ash was crying. "I SAW THE STITCHING, TOMMY."