Pregnant During An Apocalypse [BL]-Chapter 303 - 304 - Rut is over

Everyone had woken up by the time the soup finished cooking. The warm, savory smell filled the air, carrying through the house and coaxing even the most stubborn sleepers out of bed. Hana carefully ladled it into bowls while Yunfeng placed cutlery and napkins at the table.

Qiu Yue walked out of one of the rooms with Kailin trailing behind him. The two were murmuring quietly about some recent testing results—Kailin’s voice unusually nervous while Qiu Yue nodded seriously. But as they entered the dining area and spotted Yuki sitting stiffly at the end of the table, Qiu Yue’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Everyone settled down around the table. The bowls of soup steamed gently, and Hana moved around topping off everyone’s bowls with just the right portions. Yuki sat among them, her hands clenched tightly around the fabric at the bottom of her shirt, unmoving.

She didn’t touch her soup.

Her eyes flickered up and around, scanning the table. Each face felt like a wall she couldn’t scale. Qiu Yue’s eyes, especially, made her stomach twist—cold, analytical, and deeply suspicious, like she were some kind of pest they were tolerating.

Her gaze landed on Hana. The only one who’d smiled at her since morning.

"Is it too hot? Do you want me to blow on it?" Hana asked gently. She reached over, not waiting for permission, and took the bowl to cool it down. She softly blew over the surface, steam parting around her breath.

Yuki stared at her.

Was it okay... to have someone like this next to her?

She nodded shakily and accepted the bowl back. "Th-thank you..."

Then, biting her lip hard enough to sting, she slowly began to eat.

No one talked much. Qiu Yue was still half-absorbed in whatever he’d been whispering to Kailin. Muchen kept glancing nervously toward the hallway, his mind obviously elsewhere. Even Yunfeng seemed a little withdrawn, keeping his eyes on Hana as if watching for something unspoken.

The meal was over in ten minutes.

Once the table was cleared, Yunfeng moved fast. He grabbed two bowls and filled them with the hot soup, then left the house with both. He first stopped at Jai’s room. Knocking twice on the door, he gently let himself in.

Jai was curled up like a child under the bedsheets, face buried in the pillow, hair a mess of sleepy curls. He didn’t stir.

Yunfeng placed the bowl on the small table beside the bed and lingered for just a moment. The room had a scent—intensely sweet. It clung to the walls, the sheets, the very air. A strange, saccharine warmth that under any other circumstance would’ve made his instincts flare.

But for some reason, it didn’t trigger anything in him.

He closed the door quietly behind him.

The second bowl in hand, he stepped across the dirt path to the small house next door—the one they’d kept Shao in during his rut. He approached the closed door and knocked.

"Shao? I’m leaving you food and water here."

No reply.

Frowning, Yunfeng hesitated, then turned the handle and cracked the door open. The scent that hit him immediately was like a punch to the face—sharp, musky, overwhelming.

Agarwood.

It was everywhere. Embedded in the walls, soaked into the furniture, heavy in the air. His instincts stirred. A low growl escaped from his throat before he could help it.

He stepped inside quickly, squinting.

"Shao?"

The man was slumped against the far wall, completely naked, limbs tangled in a loose blanket but clearly not clothed. His chest rose and fell in deep, ragged breaths.

"Shit..." Yunfeng knelt down beside him, cupping his nose to avoid the worst of the scent. He gently shook Shao’s shoulder. "Hey. Can you hear me?"

No response. But his pulse was strong. His breath steady. Just deeply asleep.

Yunfeng sighed in relief. "Rut’s over, huh?"

He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, dried sweat on his brow. His body bore signs of intense strain—red scratches, some bruising around the thighs and hips.

"Damn..."

Feeling more pity than anything else, Yunfeng shifted Shao’s arm over his shoulder and hoisted him up. He wasn’t light, but Yunfeng bore the weight without complaint, carefully carrying him back to the main house.

As soon as he stepped in, Muchen looked up in shock.

"Is he okay?!"

"Yeah," Yunfeng replied, adjusting Shao’s weight. "But he’s got a lot of self-inflicted bruises. Looks like it was a bad one."

He laid Shao gently down on the sofa. Qiu Yue came running over, eyes sharp, immediately reaching for medical supplies to start cleaning up the wounds.

Yuki ran over too, concern etched on her face, but Hana quickly stepped between her and the sofa.

"Yuki—close your eyes. Don’t look." Hana cupped her hands over the girl’s face, trying to shield her gaze.

"Oh—shit—sorry," Yunfeng muttered, suddenly realizing. He pulled off his shirt and draped it over Shao’s lap as cover. "Guys, get him something else to wear."

The bruises were worse up close. Thin scratches along Shao’s arms, more severe ones along his thighs. The area around his hips and groin was red, irritated—clear signs of the toll an alpha rut had taken.

Yunfeng turned to Hana. "Take Yuki to your room."

She nodded, pulling the still-dazed Yuki along with her. Once they were out of the room, he knelt back beside Shao and helped Qiu Yue clean the wounds.

Muchen came over, looking pale. "Let me help too—"

"No," Yunfeng stopped him immediately. "Stay back."

"What? Why?"

Yunfeng stood, placed a firm hand on his lover’s shoulder, and gently pulled him away. "He still stinks of pheromones. Don’t get too close."

Muchen’s eyes widened. "That’s my best friend. He’s hurt—I don’t care if he stinks!"

He shoved Yunfeng aside and stepped forward again.

But the moment he neared Shao, the scent hit him—thick, pungent, cloying. Muchen gagged instantly. His stomach rolled. He doubled over, hand clapped over his nose.

"Fuck—what is this—!"

Yunfeng caught him before he could fall. "This is why I told you to stay back," he said calmly, helping Muchen stand. "Pregnant omegas can’t handle alpha pheromones—especially not when they’re this strong. And Shao’s scent... it’s one of the worst."

He guided Muchen to the far end of the room and sat him down.

Muchen was still gagging, face pale and eyes watering.

"Here. Water." Yunfeng handed him a glass.

Muchen took it gratefully and sipped, but he didn’t release Yunfeng’s arm. Instead, he tugged him down close and wrapped his arms tightly around him, burying his face against Yunfeng’s bare chest.

Yunfeng froze slightly.

The next words made him swallow hard.

"Don’t leave..." Muchen whispered. "I only feel okay when you’re close."

The citrus scent from Yunfeng’s skin—the subtle notes of orange and mint—washed over him, driving out the agarwood stench and soothing his churning senses.

Yunfeng exhaled, his chest rising and falling. He gently rested a hand on Muchen’s back.

"I won’t leave," he murmured, his voice low.

Muchen nuzzled closer, his cheek pressing to Yunfeng’s stomach. "Stay with me a bit longer..."

Yunfeng felt the warmth of his lover’s breath, the softness of his hair brushing against his skin. His own heart thudded painfully in his chest.

Gods, he was trying not to lose it.

But for now... just for now, he would hold him.

The world could wait.