My Beastly Fertility System Chapter 128: Two Wombs and a Panda Problem

"Exactly! Master, this means you can give birth 365 days a year. Nonstop. Either pregnant or on the way to being pregnant. Isn't that wonderful?"

Pome was ecstatic.

Claire let out a heavy sigh.

"Pome, you are truly relentless. Push me too hard, and I’ll die—and then you’ll have nothing left. You know the story—the farmer who killed the goose that laid the golden eggs? Short-term greed, long-term ruin."

Two wombs. At this rate, anything was possible.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up as Mother Nature herself. I’ll just snap my fingers and grow a fleet of humans out of the backyard soil, all of them crawling out and calling me 'Mommy' in chorus.

Wouldn't that be even faster than actually carrying them?

Claire thought sarcastically.

Pome rushed to reassure her.

"Master, that level of absurdity is beyond even the system's capabilities. And the wombs are yours—if you're tired and want to rest, just stop taking the fertility pills. No pill, no pregnancy. It's that simple."

The fertility pill dramatically increased conception rates—nearly 99% guaranteed.

Without it, the odds dropped to almost nothing.

Claire finally relaxed.

"Good. Because I refuse to be your breeding machine."

The irony wasn't lost on her. In her old life, she couldn't get pregnant no matter how hard she tried. Now, she was one pill away from becoming the world's most prolific mother.

"So what do we do about Marcus?" Pome asked.

The question echoed through Claire's head.

She looked at Marcus's peaceful sleeping face and felt completely at a loss.

Just then, Marcus's eyes slowly opened.

Those dark, clear eyes gazed at her, glistening and vulnerable.

Guilt hit Claire like a truck. She had taken advantage of this pure, innocent boy.

She managed an awkward smile.

"Morning, Marcus."

Marcus stared back at her without the slightest trace of surprise. The morning light caught on his sharp collarbones.

Claire had braced herself for rage. After all, what happened last night had been so sudden—she'd been the one calling the shots, hadn't asked for his consent—

He was gentle as a rabbit, sure, but even rabbits bite when cornered.

If it had been her, waking up to find her innocence gone, she'd have reached for a knife.

But Marcus just beamed at her—bright and open.

"Morning, Claire!"

Claire broke into a cold sweat. The guilt hit twice as hard.

"About last night... I'm sorry."

No point hiding. Claire addressed it head-on.

"It's my fault, Claire. I sensed someone lurking outside your wall last night—that's why I came to find you. I figured if I was there, the intruder wouldn't dare try anything.

"But I didn't expect him to be that bold. The sneak attack failed, but he still managed a parting shot. If I'd been more careful, you wouldn't have been poisoned."

The more he talked, the more upset he got. His head drooped lower and lower, nearly burying itself in the covers.

Claire couldn't help herself. She reached out and ruffled his hair.

"It's not your fault. Marcus, you were amazing. It's just that Grimstone apparently has beastfolk bold enough to pull something like this. Whoever it was, they're not small fry."

Marcus was well-known in Grimstone. His strength was formidable—blind or not, he could overpower most Level 3 beastfolk.

For someone to attack with Marcus present meant they didn't fear him at all.

"I'll tell Uncle Finlay. We'll catch that thug. For you."

Marcus's voice was fierce with conviction. He didn't mention his own lost innocence once.

They were lying under the same fur, skin to skin, and Claire didn't dare move a muscle, terrified of accidentally brushing against him.

She was frozen stiff with self-restraint when Marcus suddenly closed the gap. A rush of jasmine-scented air hit her, and before she knew it, Marcus had his arms around her neck.

"Claire, you don't want me, do you? I know my eyes are ruined, and I'm ugly, and my beast form scares people. But I... I really do like you..."

His voice was muffled against her, thick with tears barely held back.

Claire's heart clenched.

"Who says I don't want you? I'll take responsibility for you. I promise."

"Really?"

The joy on his face was impossible to miss.

Claire hummed in confirmation.

"That's wonderful! I finally have a family."

Marcus had been alone for so long. Bertie visited when he could, but most of the time, it was just Marcus, bearing everything in silence.

That single sentence—I finally have a family—hit Claire so hard she couldn't speak for a long time. She lay there, frozen.

Marcus had already gotten out of bed. He pulled on his clothes—his lean frame filling out the fur tunic perfectly.

Two long, straight legs, the muscle definition subtle but present, especially the calves. Enviable.

Claire propped her chin on one hand and watched him dress. Her mind drifted somewhere far away.