Chapter 113: So... About That Neck
Chapter 113: So... About That Neck
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
The rose garden had never stopped existing.
It had simply waited.
A gentle breeze wandered through the towering hedges, carrying with it the sweet perfume of blooming roses and the comforting aroma of tea that had long since cooled.
Somewhere overhead, a blackbird resumed its cheerful song, answered moments later by another farther away.
Mirabelle remained where she was, her breathing gradually evening out as she stared at the endless blue sky above.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead, painting shifting patches of gold across the white lace tablecloth.
Only now did she realize just how quiet the afternoon had become.
Not empty, but peaceful.
She smiled to herself.
"...The tea’s probably cold."
A quiet laugh escaped Lucien.
"That seems to be your biggest concern."
She turned her head just enough to look at him.
"It was very expensive tea."
"I apologize."
"For the tea?"
"For... everything."
Mirabelle watched him for a moment. There was no teasing in his voice anymore.
Only sincerity.
She reached over and gently brushed an pearl of sweat from his cheek.
"I know."
The bond between them felt different now.
Calmer. No longer demanding.
It simply... existed.
Mirabelle could no longer find even the smallest trace of anxiety inside him.
Only relief.
She let out a slow breath.
"...Welcome back, Lucien."
The fox Beastman blinked.
A smile spread across his face so gradually that it almost looked as though he were afraid it might disappear if he smiled too quickly.
"...It’s good to be back."
Around them, the garden continued exactly as before.
The rabbit emerged once more from beneath the rose hedge, took one look at the two nobles occupying the tea table, twitched its nose in apparent disapproval...
...and went back to eating grass.
Lucien was the first to stir.
With obvious reluctance, he took a careful step back, giving Mirabelle the space to sit up.
With a wet sound, he slipped free of her, and Mirabelle felt the last of his release spill out of her, soaking into the tablecloth.
Yet neither of them seemed to mind the aftermath of their lovemaking.
By now, Mirabelle knew that Beastmen had an incredibly open and relaxed attitude toward sex.
That was one of the reasons she’d gradually allowed herself to let go of her own reservations.
And now, after sharing that experience with Lucien as well, she couldn’t help but feel that, at least in this regard, she had truly become part of the Beastworld.
His eyes searched hers for only a moment before politely drifting away, allowing her the dignity of gathering herself without feeling watched.
And she did exactly that. She took a deep breath and tried, once more, to ground herself in the present. Tried to truly process what had just happened.
That within the span of just a few days, she had slept with three different Beast males — and that it was completely okay.
That no one would judge her for it.
Which meant she didn’t have to judge herself either.
She reached inward once more, searching for what she felt for those three males. What she found were the bonds connecting them.
And then it struck her.
She truly loved all three of them.
Her modern mind still wanted to dismiss the realization as impossible, yet it didn’t change the truth.
It simply was.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence between the lynx female and the fox male no longer felt awkward.
Only... peaceful.
Then something caught Mirabelle’s attention.
Behind Lucien, the emerald dust was glittering again. Tiny green particles danced through the afternoon sunlight, swirling together until the familiar fox took shape.
Unlike before, it no longer sat curled upon the grass.
It stood.
Elegant and proud.
Its emerald eyes rested solely upon her.
Waiting.
Mirabelle’s breath caught.
She knew exactly what it wanted.
The mark.
Only then did another realization strike her.
Lucien hadn’t reacted.
Not even a glance.
His attention remained entirely on her.
Slowly, Mirabelle looked from the fox apparition back to the Beastman before her.
"...You can’t see it..."
The words escaped as little more than a whisper.
Lucien frowned.
"See what?"
The fox behind him lazily flicked its tail, as though amused by the conversation.
Mirabelle stared.
How had she never questioned this before?
The hyenna.
The panther.
Now the fox.
Every time those mysterious manifestations had appeared...
Only she had ever acknowledged them.
Not once had one of her mates looked in their direction.
A dozen questions immediately flooded her mind.
Pebbles!
She was definitely going to interrogate that infuriating octopus spirit later. If he didn’t conveniently "remember something on the stove" again.
The emerald fox shifted.
Its ears twitched.
And its tail fluffed ever so slightly as it regarded her with an ancient sort of patience — as though it had waited for this moment far longer than either of them could comprehend.
Its emerald eyes never left hers.
Mirabelle’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt.
The questions about Pebbles...
About the apparitions...
About why she alone could see them...
They all dissolved beneath the fox’s unwavering gaze.
It wasn’t commanding her. It didn’t need to.
Something deep inside her answered before her mind could.
A quiet pull.
Ancient.
Instinctive.
Unavoidable.
Her attention drifted back to Lucien.
To the bond humming steadily between them.
They were already mates. She could feel him. His emotions brushed against hers as naturally as her own heartbeat.
And yet...
Something remained unfinished.
She felt incomplete.
The realization settled over her with startling clarity.
The moment that bond crossed her mind, something awakened. It surged through her like a tide that had been waiting behind an invisible dam.
Primeval power flooded every corner of her body.
For one dizzying heartbeat, it no longer was as though she occupied her body alone. The ancient instinct of the Beast within her rose to meet the moment.
Heat swept through her veins.
The world sharpened.
Every color deepened.
The crimson roses surrounding the garden seemed richer than before, every petal outlined in impossible clarity.
She could make out the veins running through the leaves overhead, the individual grains of pollen clinging to a nearby blossom, even the tiny footprints a ladybug had left in the afternoon dew.
The breeze shifted.
It carried a thousand scents with it.
Warm stone.
Freshly cut grass.
Honey.
Tea.
Sun-warmed wood.
And Lucien.
His scent eclipsed all the others. It settled in her mind with startling certainty, as though every instinct she possessed had quietly agreed that it belonged there.
Her breathing slowed.
The rhythm of his heartbeat became unmistakable. She could hear the blood flowing beneath his skin.
Her gaze lifted...
...and settled upon his throat.
She frowned.
’Why there?’
Before she could answer herself, the ancient power stirred.
It did not feel like a thought. Nor an emotion.
It felt like a memory that had never belonged to her.
A presence unfurled within her chest.
Vast beyond comprehension.
It wasn’t merely power.
It was sovereignty.
It did not crash through her like a storm.
Storms came and went.
This felt like a mountain remembering that it had once touched the heavens.
The force rising within her carried neither rage nor urgency.
It carried certainty.
It felt older than kingdoms.
Older than the first noble bloodlines.
Older than the language spoken across the continent.
Older than memory itself.
For one impossible heartbeat, Mirabelle had the overwhelming sensation that she was standing at the center of something immeasurably greater than herself.
The garden seemed to fall silent.
The breeze slowed.
As though the world itself had instinctively stepped back.
The power didn’t ask for permission.
It simply existed.
Like an ocean that had watched civilizations rise and crumble without ever changing its tides.
Compared to it, her own will felt impossibly small — not erased, but embraced by something vast enough to make even mountains seem fleeting.
And somehow...
It recognized her.
Not as Mirabelle.
But as its rightful bearer.
Mirabelle took a step toward Lucien, and the fox Beastman understood immediately.
He had already sensed that something was happening to her.
A feeling had suddenly surged across their bond—something he couldn’t describe.
It robbed him of all strength.
The Beast instinct within him begged him to fall to his knees and make himself as small as possible.
And yet...
The figure standing before him was Mirabelle.
His female.
His rational mind fought desperately against the overwhelming instinct urging him to submit.
But when Mirabelle stopped in front of him, and he saw her pupils narrow into the thinnest slits he had ever witnessed in a Beastperson...
When he heard her fangs slide free from her gums... He knew exactly what this was about.
His heart skipped with excitement.
At the same time...
He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something about this wasn’t unfolding the way he’d always been told it would.
Lucien held perfectly still as Mirabelle took another step until she was standing directly in front of him.
Her gaze rested on his neck. He swallowed unconsciously.
Behind him, the fox apparition’s tail began swishing excitedly.
It looked almost relieved...
As though it had been waiting for this very moment all along, and could finally let go of the anticipation that had built inside it.
Mirabelle’s hands rose to rest against Lucien’s bare chest.
Despite the overwhelming presence she suddenly seemed to radiate, her touch was featherlight. Gentle.
Without her needing to say a single word, he leaned slightly toward her, tilting his head to one side.
Mirabelle accepted the invitation.
He expected to feel her bite immediately.
Instead... She kissed him.
The touch was so impossibly tender that every nerve ending in his body tingled, sending a pleasant shiver cascading through him.
The tender caress sent a warm shiver through his body, racing straight to his core. Despite having just experienced the greatest release of his life, he found himself hard once more.
Only then...
Mirabelle bit down.
And with her bite came the pain.