Beastmen / Reverse Harem/ Smut / Zombies

When the world ends, Felicity expects to die quietly.

Instead, she wakes to a ruined world crawling with monsters, beastmen, and dangers she was never meant to survive. Small, soft spoken, and terrified, Felicity has only one advantage: a strange power buried deep inside her that even she does not understand.

Saved by Victor, a cold, powerful beastman with wings sharp enough to cut the sky, Felicity is pulled into a brutal new reality where strength decides everything and mercy is rare. Victor does not protect lightly, and once he chooses someone, he does not let go.

As they travel through shattered cities and hostile territory, Felicity must learn to survive, to fight, and to claim her place in a world that no longer has room for weakness. Monsters lurk in the shadows, alliances are fragile, and desire burns just as fiercely as fear.

In a beast ruled apocalypse, survival is not enough.

To live, Felicity must become something more.

The fire snapped, spitting sparks into the night.

—————————-

When Felicity blinked, Victor was closer.

She had not seen him move. One moment he was across the clearing, watching the dark with those sharp, unreadable eyes, and the next he was right in front of her, his shadow swallowing hers.

“You nearly died back there,” he said quietly.

She tried to laugh, but it came out wrong. “It’s probably going to happen again. That seems to be my thing.”

Victor’s gaze lingered on her face, then softened in a way she did not expect. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek, his touch rough but careful, as if he were afraid of breaking her.

“Not if I can help it,” he said.

The fire crackled between them. Felicity’s heart raced as his thumb lingered at her cheek, warmth spreading through her chest at the smallest touch. The world seemed to narrow until there was only him, steady and solid, and the terrifying comfort of knowing she was no longer alone.

For the first time since the world had ended, Felicity felt something dangerous bloom in her chest.

Hope.


hi this is my first book
be gentle english is my first language
art is my own

Vineyard's command hall was full when Snow Team assembled, its stone walls catching the low murmur of voices that cut off the moment Victor stepped inside. The mood was different this time. No testing glances. No posturing.


The commander stood at the head of the table, hands braced against scarred stone. His face was drawn, the kind of tightness that came from bad numbers and worse maps.


"There's a migration," he said. "Hordes moving west. Not wandering. Directed."


Voss leaned forward immediately, eyes sharp. "Toward what?"


"Survivors," the commander replied. "A settlement roughly a month's walk out. Scattered groups. Civilians. Low-level fighters. They won't hold."


Victor didn't hesitate. "We'll clear it."


A beat. Then the commander nodded. "And escort them back if possible."


Damien spoke for the first time, voice quiet but cutting. "And if not?"


Chapter 42 - The decision came quietly.