My Beastly Fertility System Chapter 126: The Antidote's Expiration

Their glistening muscles, the relentless rhythm of their bodies against hers—playing on repeat in her head, impossible to banish.

Only then did Claire realize, with creeping horror, what kind of poison she'd actually been hit with.

An aphrodisiac.

"Marcus's antidote pill... don't tell me it expired. It only lasted that long?"

Claire's entire body had gone soft and boneless. The desire building inside her was unbearable—like her whole body was on the verge of coming apart.

"No. If this keeps going, I'm going to combust."

She bit down on the tip of her tongue hard enough to draw blood, and the jolt of pain gave her just enough strength to roll off the bed.

"Master, the toxin has reached your bones. The antidote suppressed it temporarily, but now that its effects have worn off, the rebound is even worse. Your only option is to mate with a male. That's the only way to neutralize the poison now."

"Absolutely not. What kind of person do you think I am? I'm not going to take advantage of someone like that."

Claire snapped at Pome in her mind.

She pushed open her door. In the courtyard, a natural spring shimmered under the moonlight—and miraculously, it hadn't frozen over.

Claire stumbled toward it and threw herself in, submerging her whole body.

The icy water enveloped her. Her head cleared almost instantly.

"Cold!"

The worst of the heat receded. Claire let out a small sigh of relief, closed her eyes, and leaned her head back against the stone rim.

She couldn't help thinking of Rufus—back when they'd first met, she'd used this exact method to help him endure an aphrodisiac. The same technique.

She'd assumed she could outlast it the same way. Just sit in the water long enough, and it would pass.

But as time went on, the spring water felt warmer and warmer. The cool relief faded completely.

She opened her eyes. The spring—which had been radiating cold air moments ago—was now steaming.

"Master, you literally heated the entire pool. Your body temperature is off the charts."

Claire was speechless.

It wasn't that her body was powerful. It was the poison.

"Pome, think of something. I feel like my blood vessels are about to explode."

Claire's cheeks were flushed scarlet, her consciousness fading. She could barely form the words.

"Master, the only option left is Marcus. He clearly likes you. He won't say no."

Claire clung to her last shred of reason and shook her head.

"He's... too young."

Deep down, Claire still thought of herself as a woman in her 30s. Marcus was young enough to be her son. She couldn't—

"Master, he's 17. In Beast World, that's an adult. And your current body is practically the same age as his."

Claire blinked. Right. She kept forgetting. This wasn't the body she'd had in her old life. Beastfolk matured early. It wasn't as strange as it felt.

Claire still shook her head. She braced her arms against the edge and hauled herself out of the pool.

Her thin fur tunic clung to every curve, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Master, please reconsider. Your life comes first."

Claire ignored Pome's pleas and pushed open her bedroom door.

"Stop. I don't do younger men."

She'd had enough. She blocked Pome entirely—a trick she'd recently figured out. When she wanted to, she could sever the link, leaving Pome unable to hear her thoughts or see what she was doing.

The door was open. Moonlight spilled across the threshold, illuminating the bed.

On the furs, a body lay bare.

The first thing that hit her was how pale he was—so pale it almost hurt to look at him.

Elegant collarbones. A chest that rose and fell gently. He looked slender—almost thin—but across his abdomen, the faint outline of a six-pack was unmistakable.

Whether there was a seventh or eighth was hidden beneath a snow-white rabbit-fur pelt draped across his hips.

But the legs below the fur were long. Impossibly long, stretching all the way to the end of the bed.

"Gulp."

Claire swallowed involuntarily.

In her current state, she was a starving woman staring at a perfectly roasted drumstick. The urge to devour it whole was overwhelming.

Who was this?

How did he end up in her room?

Lying in her bed, tempting her like this?

Claire dragged her eyes back up to his face.

In the shadow of his hair, an innocent face was slightly open-mouthed, eyes closed, lashes fanning delicately over his lower lids. Serene. Beautiful.

It was Marcus.

The last thread holding Claire's self-control together snapped. When had Marcus ended up in her bed?

And wearing so little.

Her hands trembling, she reached out, whispering to herself, "Just... pull up the covers. Can't let him catch a cold..."

But when she came back to her senses, both her hands were resting on Marcus's abs.

The smooth, cool skin was impossibly tempting. Before she knew it, she'd pressed her cheek against them.

"Ah... abs. So nice and cool. I love abs..."