Beast Gacha System: All Mine-Chapter 76: Clarity

"Do I still... smell like her?"

Arkai’s question was blunt, directly cutting through the awkward silence in the solar. He narrowed his eyes at Anton, who had been staring at him for an uncomfortably long time. The old tiger’s expression had shifted between shock, grief, and brewing outrage.

The recently-resurrected Tiger King sat across from him. On his face, two words were written very clearly. Familial catastrophe. It folded in on itself in complicated anger and something nearing hysterical disbelief.

"How could you..." Anton began, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Of all the people in this gods-forsaken world... you..."

"...marry my daughter-in-law?!"

The last word ended on a wail as fat tears spilled over and tracked through the pallor of Anton’s cheeks.

Arkai narrowed his eyes further. Disgust settling over his features.

"Brother!" Anton yelled, finding his voice again, accusingly pointing at him. "You are truly a white-eyed wolf! How could you ignore every strand of familial hierarchy and just—just—" He sputtered, "She was my daughter-in-law! That makes her your niece-by-marriage! It’s practically incestuous!"

"Shut up!" Arkai barked. "I know that already. Now, for the last time. I have scrubbed my skin raw three times. Do I still carry her scent or not? Answer the fucking question."

Anton’s eyes burned with a wet, grievous sense of betrayal, even as the tears kept flowing. "I cannot believe you would do this to me... coveting your own niece..."

"WHO TOLD YOU TO MARRY YOUR WHELP OF A SON TO HER IN THE FIRST PLACE?!" Arkai roared back, finally losing his own grip on patience.

"ALRIGHT, THAT FAULT IS ON MY HEAD! BUT EVEN SO, YOU SHOULD HAVE SHOWN RESTRAINT!"

"I DON’T HAVE ANY! I LOVE HER!"

"YOU DO CARE, YOU HYPOCRITE, BECAUSE YOU’RE ASHAMED! BUT YOU DID IT ANYWAY!"

BLAM!

"DO. I. STILL. SMELL. LIKE. HER?" Arkai bellowed, slamming a fist on the table between them.

"NO, YOU DISGUSTING BEAST!"

"Good." Arkai sneered.

"You—" In a sudden, fluid motion, Anton lunged forward across the table to grasp the front of Arkai’s tunic in a white-knuckled fist. His voice dropped, the tears still wet on his face but his tone now deadly serious, stripped of all its former whining pitch.

"You listen to me, Cousin," he hissed. "You will treat her with the reverence she has always deserved and you will make her happy. You will cherish her. Or I swear on the blood we share, I will carve your heart from your chest myself. Just as I intend to do to my son."

Arkai’s glare faltered.

In the end, beneath the layers of offended dignity, beneath the bitter taste of familial taboo and inevitable shame their union would bring upon both their houses, Anton Vasiliev just wanted Cecilia to be safe, respected, and happy.

Arkai saw it then. They had been raised from the same stock, he and his cousin. Flawed, stubborn, sometimes foolish men. But at their core, they had been forged with the same terrible, weighty sense of responsibility. The duty to protect what was theirs, to honor their pledges, to be, in their own tangled ways, good men.

"Don’t worry," Arkai scoffed, prying his cousin’s clawed grip from his collar. "You’re far from the only one who’d hunt me to the ends of the earth if she were harmed by my hand. Now," he straightened his tunic. "Let’s go meet your son."

Anton took a deep breath, the storm of tears and outrage receding and drawn back behind a regal dam. He dabbed at his face with a sleeve, and in that simple motion, the dignified Tiger King returned, even thin and frail.

"You remember the plan," Arkai stated.

"I act oblivious. The last few days are a blank slate. I must let their own paranoia do the work," Anton recited. "Make them second-guess every word."

"Hmm."

"Terrifying," Anton whispered. "It’s like watching a predator deliberately let its prey think it’s escaped, just to relish the chase."

"Cecilia?"

"Who else?"

They reached the main entrance of Winter’s Keep, the massive gates standing open. In the distance, a long, sinuous convoy was winding its way up the mountain path toward the fortress. It was an army on the move.

Half-beast tigers prowled alongside full-beast forms of stunning size and stripe, while commanders in near-humanoid form led the procession with stiff-backed formality.

"It seems they came straight from what should have been their front line," Arkai observed, his voice flat.

Anton let out a low, disgusted growl. "Stupid arms..."

"Ah." Arkai’s gaze sharpened, picking out a detail in the midst of the martial column. "She’s here, too. I didn’t think she’d venture this far north."

Among the tigers and soldiers was a single, opulent carriage. Its dark wood and gold filigree were quite a contrast against the military grey, bearing the proud, snarling crest of the Vasiliev house.

Anton’s expression grew complex. "Perhaps she raced to catch up with them the moment she heard I’d been found alive."

"Get a grip, Brother," Arkai murmured, the warning clear.

"You think the poison that nearly ate my organs also killed my comprehension?" Anton spat back. He remembered the truth Cecilia had delivered. He’d been betrayed by the very woman now riding toward him in a gilded box.

The procession fanned out and halted before the entrance. The carriage door opened, and Arzhen emerged first. He immediately turned, offering a hand back into the carriage’s depths.

Elara Vasiliev descended. And... what a vision of elegant distress. Her dark hair arranged perfectly despite the journey, her gown sumptuous. The moment her eyes landed on Anton, standing frail but alive on the steps, her beautiful face shattered. A heart-wrenching sob escaped her. "Anton!"

"Anton—my love...!" She ran, desperately in a full-bodied sprint, the very picture of a woman overcome. She flung herself into his waiting arms, burying her face against his chest. "Oh, if only you knew the agony I’ve endured, thinking I’d lost you forever—"

"Elara..." Anton’s voice itself was full of emotion. He clutched her to him, his embrace tight. "What... what actually happened? Can anyone... please explain this to me?"

From a few paces away, Arkai’s left eye gave an involuntary twitch. Apparently this younger cousin of his had just as much talent for acting as his own poisonous wife did.

It was then that Arzhen stepped forward from behind his weeping mother.

Ha.

The man Arkai wanted to dismember joint by joint approached his father. His head was bowed. Shameful. But relieved.

"Father... I-I... I’ve... failed you..." Arzhen’s voice cracked, sorrowful.

Arkai physically forced his hands behind his back, locking his fingers together so tightly the knuckles blanched.

But his face was impassive. Calm. Stern. Unreadable. Even his eyes, usually so black and telling, held only the warm, solid relief of a host welcoming imperiled family. "Please, come inside," he said. "The air here bites colder than your eastern winds."

"Thank you..." Elara turned her tear-streaked face toward him. "Thank you for saving my..."

With those words, soft as a sigh yet freighted with an intimacy that defied the public setting, Arkai was once again hit by this familiar feeling he always got around her.

Even still wet with tears, her eyes lifted to his with liquid warmth that had nothing to do with gratitude for a rescue. It was the slow glide of a glance that measured the breadth of his shoulders, the line of his jaw, before settling on his mouth.

She shifted ever so slightly as she spoke, the rich fabric of her traveling gown tightening across her bodice in a way that was both artless and impeccably timed, presenting the elegant slope of her décolletage.

It was a look that belonged in a shadowed antechamber, not a windswept fortress gate, and it carried the sultry implication that her relief was not solely for her husband’s return.

With this kind of creature around, it was obvious now why Arkai warned Anton over and over and over again that she was a poison.

"Think nothing of it," Arkai cut in, gesturing toward the keep’s warm interior. "Come now. We’ve prepared hot food. You must be weary from your journey."

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Important A/N Part 2:

Hello my wonderful readers!

First, a direct message to my legendary first patrons: Cherie_Valentine, Maggie_Stovall, and Amaterasu_Cross. Thank you again for your incredible support. I know not even a day has passed yet, but I haven’t received any emails from you regarding naming the children, and that is perfectly okay! No pressure at all. I just want to make sure you have a clear and fair chance with enough time to ponder about, so I’m setting a deadline.

If you wish to claim your exclusive naming right, please send your email with the screenshot to [email protected] by February 1st. This offer is forever reserved for you three alone until that date. And I won’t even question or choose or attempt to change the names you suggest.

Now, for my amazing entire reader family...

If my fabulous OGs choose not to claim their prize (which I will totally understand, you mysterious benefactors!), these three special characters will still enter the story. And I want you all to be part of it.

So, if the deadline passes without a claim, we will launch the: "Legacy of the OGs" Naming Contest!

Here’s how it will work:

When: Starting on February 2nd. The contest will run until I officially close it with an announcement (which will be a while, as we wait for the children’s arrival in the plot!).

How: Post a comment in the comment section of THIS Chapter (Chapter 76, don’t worry, I will remind you later at Feb 2nd) with:

- Your suggested name (and the gender it’s for).

- Which dad (Oath, Ark, or East) you think fits the name.

- Optional: A tiny sentence on why it honors the spirit of our first patrons.

The Prize: I will select the three suggestions that most resonate with the story. The winners will be permanently credited in the Chapter where each child is introduced (e.g., "The name [Name] was chosen by reader [Username]!"). And it’ll be a surprise until they arrive.

This way, we honor the sassy mystery or busy lives of our top supporters while turning their legacy into a gift for the whole community. Their support made these characters possible, so now you can all help shape them.

Thank you for being the most understanding and creative (Trust. You better jump in or I’ll just embarrass myself here) readers. Whether it’s my OGs stepping forward or all of you jumping into the contest, I’m so excited to see what names we give to Cecilia’s little ones.

All my love,

Sugar!