Baby System: I'm the Beast World's Only Hope!-Chapter 290: Episode 288: An Angry Roxy.

The words hadn’t even fully left Drax’s mouth before Roxy was moving.

Who the fuck laid a hand on her man?

Roxy didn’t ask questions. She shoved herself out of the Tiger’s embrace and bolted. Her bare feet slapped frantically against the floorboards, her silk gown billowing behind her as she sprinted past Drax, tearing through the open front doors of the Manor and out onto the sunlit porch.

"Syris!" Roxy screamed.

She reached the edge of the wooden steps and froze.

Standing in the center of the courtyard, bathed in the crisp morning light, was the Syris. He looked absolutely horrific. His usually immaculate, elegant dark robes were shredded into ribbons except the parts that hid his seam.

His pale skin was marred by deep, jagged puncture wounds along his arms and torso. He was covered from head to toe in thick, foul-smelling, blackened mud, and sluggish, dark blood was oozing from his injuries, dripping steadily onto the grass.

He looked like he had literally crawled his way out of a grave.

"Oh my god," Roxy gasped, the breath leaving her lungs in a violent rush.

She lunged forward, intending to throw herself off the porch and sprint directly to him, to press her hands over his bleeding wounds and use whatever she possessed to help him.

"Stop!" Syris barked, his voice ragged but carrying a sharp, absolute command.

He threw his left hand up, his palm facing her, his emerald eyes wide with urgent warning. He slithered back a bit, deliberately putting more distance between them.

Roxy didn’t listen. She took another step down the stairs.

Suddenly, a massive arm wrapped securely around her waist, completely lifting her off her feet and hauling her backward. Zarek had come behind her, his eyes locked onto the Snake Beastman.

"Let me go!" Roxy shrieked, thrashing wildly against Zarek’s chest, her bare heels kicking at his shins. "Z, let me go! He’s bleeding!"

"I am fine, Roxy!" Syris called out, his chest heaving as he leaned heavily against one of the courtyard’s decorative stone pillars. He looked at Zarek, giving the Dragon a brief, grateful nod for restraining her. He turned his gaze back to his frantic mate. "You must stay back. The blood on my skin... a vast majority of it is not mine. It is heavily contaminated with the Wither-Rot."

Roxy stopped thrashing. The word contaminated echoed in her mind, sending a terrifying chill straight through her bones.

She went perfectly still against Zarek’s chest, her green eyes wide and locked onto the jagged bite marks on Syris’s arms. The Wither-Rot was a necrotic plague that devoured mana and life force.

If that blood touched her, if the infection breached her fragile, pregnant system, it would be a death sentence for both her and the cub.

Zarek slowly set her back down on her feet, though he kept his large hands firmly planted on her shoulders, serving as a physical anchor to keep her on the porch.

But that didn’t fucking explain why her man was bleeding?!

"Who did this to you?" Roxy demanded, her voice dropping to a low in a rage that was carried across the courtyard. Her hands curled into tight, trembling fists. "Who touched you?"

Syris let out a slow breath. He looked at the fierce, murderous glint in his Queen’s eyes. "The feral guards of the Southern Swamps. And... my father. Vipersan."

Roxy completely lost her mind. She didn’t care that Vipersan was a King. She didn’t care that he was Syris’s father. All she saw was the male who had exiled her mate, tried to take Tanith, had now tried to butcher him.

"Drax!" Roxy roared, whirling around to face the doorway where the teenage dragon was standing in stunned silence. "Bring me a spear right fucking now!"

Last time they were able to stop her, but now there was nothing stopping her from killing that snake.

Drax blinked, his eyes wide. "Mother—"

Torian, who had sprinted out onto the porch behind Zarek, actually let out a low, deeply impressed rumble. Seeing his small, pregnant mate ready to wage a one-woman war in a silk nightgown was the most magnificent thing he had ever witnessed.

Down in the courtyard, Syris actually laughed.

It was a wet, exhausted, incredibly fond sound. The Snake Beastman pushed himself off the stone pillar, his vertical green pupils softening into a look of profound, overwhelming devotion. The sheer, feral loyalty of his Queen was a balm that completely numbed the agonizing pain of his wounds.

"Roxy, my beautiful, terrifying Queen," Syris murmured, his voice carrying clearly over the morning breeze. "Calm down. Please."

"I am not calming down!" Roxy snapped, pointing a trembling finger at his bleeding arm. "He bit you!"

"He did," Syris acknowledged smoothly. "But you do not need a spear, darling. I have already handled it."

Roxy froze, her furious panting slowing. "Handled it?"

"Vipersan is already dead," Syris stated, his tone dropping its warmth, returning to the cold, clinical apathy of a deadly assassin. He looked at her, his emerald eyes dark and absolute. "I eradicated him. The Southern Swamps are now without a King. You do not need to soil your hands with his blood."

Roxy’s lower lip began to tremble. Her violet eyes instantly pooled with thick, hot tears that spilled over her lashes, tracking rapidly down her pale cheeks.

"Are you okay?" Roxy croaked, her voice barely a whisper, completely broken by the sheer emotional whiplash of the morning.

Syris looked at her standing there on the porch, crying for him, flanked by a Dragon and a Tiger who were ready to tear the world apart at her command. A slow, incredibly soft, and uncharacteristically cheesy smile spread across his sharp face.

"I am perfectly fine, darling," Syris purred, his voice dripping with a warm affection. "Though I must admit, seeing you ready to wage a bloody war in nothing but a silk nightgown is doing far more terrible things to my heart rate than the swamp ever could."

Roxy let out a wet, messy sound that was half-sob, half-laugh. She wiped her eyes furiously with the back of her hand, a watery smile breaking through her tears. He was bleeding, covered in mud, and he was still flirting with her.

"You’re an idiot," Roxy sniffled, her heart swelling with an aching, boundless love. She took a deep breath, shifting back into logistical mode. "You need to go to the hot springs behind the Manor and wash that mud and contaminated blood off immediately. I will come with you. Let me help you clean the wounds."

"No," Syris refused instantly, his tone brokering absolutely no argument. He held his hand up again. "You will not come near me until I am completely sterilized. The Wither-Rot is too volatile, and your body is funneling all its strength into the Tiger’s cub. I will not risk exposing you."

"But the infection in your bloodstream—" Roxy argued, stepping forward again.

"Is already neutralized," Syris assured her confidently. "I ate a double dose of Kaelen’s broth before I left the Swamps. The Kraken venom and Nerissa’s ink have already frozen any lingering contamination in my veins. The wounds are purely physical now. I just need hot water and time."

He gave her one last, reassuring smile,. "I will return to you once I am clean, my Queen."

Syris turned, his long, dark hair plastered to his back with mud, and slithering slowly but steadily around the side of the Manor toward the steaming hot springs. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Roxy stood on the porch, watching him until he completely disappeared from view. She let out a long, shuddering sigh, the last remaining dregs of her strength finally abandoning her.

Zarek sensed her collapse before it even happened. The Dragon Alpha gently wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back against his side.

"He is strong, Roxann," Zarek rumbled softly, kissing her temple. "He will heal. Come inside. You need to rest."

Zarek gently guided her back through the heavy doors, shutting the morning sun out. He didn’t take her upstairs. Instead, he led her directly to the living room, where Torian was already sitting on the edge of the large sofa, his arms open and waiting.

Zarek carefully deposited Roxy directly into Torian’s lap. The White Tiger immediately wrapped his thick arms around her, pulling her flush against his chest and burying his face in her hair, a deep, comforting purr vibrating through his massive frame.

For once, Zarek didn’t complain about the Tiger holding her. The Dragon simply took a seat on the armchair opposite them, his eyes watching her carefully.

Iris even curled back on his thighs.

Roxy curled into Torian’s warmth, resting her head against his collarbone. The Manor was quiet again, the scent of lavender wrapping around her like a protective blanket.

"We are going to wait," Roxy announced quietly into the quiet room, her eyes heavily lidded. "We are going to lock the gates, and we are going to wait exactly one week. That will be enough time to ensure the cure finally worked and that the Wither-Rot is entirely starved out across the continent."

Zarek leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It will work. You designed it. The beastworld will heal."

Torian rumbled in agreement, his hand gently stroking her back. "We trust you entirely, Roxy. Your plan was flawless."

The absolute, furious faith the men had in her was overwhelming. They didn’t doubt her for a second. They looked at her as if she held the sun and the moon in the palms of her hands.

Roxy closed her eyes, letting the safety of their presence wash over her. Everything should have felt perfectly, completely whole.

But as the silence stretched on, a familiar, deep ache bloomed in the center of her chest. But she was still missing parts of her heart.

I wish, Roxy thought, I wish there was a way to bring Zale and Caspian to the surface.