Pregnant During An Apocalypse [BL]

Chapter 292: Chapter 293 - Burn it out

Yunfeng rubbed his face roughly as he walked back to his room, his shoulders weighed down by more than just exhaustion. Every step felt heavier, every breath tighter. The plan was already in motion now. Zei would freeze the front line, Lu Zhi would sneak into the outer camp, Yunfeng himself had planted the makeshift bomb in the kitchen. All the dominoes were lined up—but one of them was too unstable to control.

Shao.

Yunfeng’s jaw clenched as he collapsed onto his bed, lying stiff under the sheets. The ceiling blurred above him, and he didn’t know if it was his strained eyesight or the sheen of anxious tears threatening to break through. Of all the people to be caught in the direct line of fire, it had to be Shao. The one who was least in control of himself right now.

They couldn’t reach him. Not without compromising everything. And even if they could somehow open that barricaded door and send someone in... would Shao even listen? Would he even recognize danger at this point?

The man was lost in a rut. He was volatile. He was vulnerable. All he could think about—Yunfeng was sure of it—was Jai. Jai, who was now in heat. It was like lighting a match and throwing it into a forest already soaked in gasoline.

Yunfeng groaned softly and buried his face into the pillow. He squeezed it tightly between his arms like he could suffocate the frustration and helplessness boiling in his chest. This wasn’t just about protecting their camp anymore. This was a chain reaction waiting to erupt. If Shao and Jai ended up together like this, both overwhelmed by biological impulses and blinded by desire, it wouldn’t just be reckless. It would be catastrophic.

Neither of them could think straight. They wouldn’t notice soldiers approaching, or alarms being tripped. They wouldn’t care about hiding. They’d be loud, distracted, defenseless.

And in this state, if someone stormed the house—Yunfeng’s breath caught.

He couldn’t let that happen. But his options were dwindling by the second.

He turned on his side and slipped one arm out from under the covers. His palm trembled as he stared at it. He tried, again, to summon the flames—his old reliable power. He could feel the heat now, at least. It was crawling slowly through his bloodstream like syrup, coiling in his gut, heating the tips of his fingers.

But no fire came.

Nothing broke through his skin. Nothing sparked, no matter how much he focused.

He gritted his teeth and tried again. And again. Again.

The heat was there. The energy. He could feel it humming beneath his ribs. But it was like a dam held it back. Every time he tried to channel it out, it just curled inside him and burned, uselessly.

Yunfeng swallowed hard and threw the covers off, sitting up. His body was shaking—not from fear, but from the effort of fighting himself. He had to be ready. He had to fight. They had only half a day left until nightfall. And when night came, the soldiers would either be frozen in place... or storming toward them full-force if any part of the plan failed.

He needed his powers back. Even if they were unstable, even if they hurt—he needed something.

He clenched his fist, pressing his nails deep into his palm. ’Come on,’ he thought to himself. ’Come on.’

His veins pulsed. His skin flushed. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

Still, no fire.

No glow.

Just more silence.

Yunfeng let out a long breath, somewhere between a sigh and a sob. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands limp.

’Please... just this once...’ he thought to himself, staring down at his hands. ’I have to protect them. I have to protect my family.’

They were all counting on him.

And right now... he felt like he was failing all of them.

His shoulders shook again. But he didn’t cry.

Instead, he stood up. Slowly. Steadily.

And tried again.

Yunfeng suddenly remembered something—faint, but sharp like a shard of glass in the back of his mind. Back when the government tried to kidnap him, they had injected him with something. A sedative. But it hadn’t worked the way they’d hoped. His body had burned it out—literally. His powers, even in their dormant state, had been able to incinerate the foreign substance from his bloodstream.

His eyes widened faintly. Can I do that again...?

He didn’t need to summon a flame to burn it out. He didn’t need fire.

Just heat.

Deep, raw, internal heat.

Yunfeng laid back down and closed his eyes, heart pounding. He focused on the warmth humming inside him. Not the flickering sparks he had tried to summon earlier, but the steady, heavy furnace that sat behind his ribs, buried in his core. He pulled at it, fed it, fanned it higher like a bellows pumping air into a forge.

His skin started to flush, a sheen of sweat forming quickly on his forehead. The sheets became suffocating, sticking to his body as his temperature rose. He could feel his blood thickening, boiling. His heart slammed against his chest with every beat, fast and violent.

He groaned lowly, his teeth clenching, fingers twisting the sheets as the heat continued to rise. It wasn’t fire—but it was pain. His muscles tensed and twitched uncontrollably. A low whimper escaped him as his back arched slightly off the bed.

Too hot. It was too hot.

It felt like he was cooking from the inside. His vision swam. His lips cracked. But he didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

The heat raged. Every breath he took scalded his lungs. His veins were molten wires, pulsing beneath his skin.

And then—

—something shifted.

A faint pop in his ears. A strange sensation in his sinuses, like air clearing after days underwater. Then, like a wave crashing into his skull—his senses snapped back.

His vision cleared.

The room around him sharpened. The dusky light from the window no longer looked like an abstract blur. He could see the cracks in the wooden ceiling, the dust motes floating in the air.

His nose picked up the faint scent of ash from the kitchen, the musty corner where blankets were stored. And beyond that... he could smell them.

Muchens rose pheromone... He could smell it.

Jai’s sweet scent was stronger than ever.

Shao’s wild agarwood, snarling and tangled.

The sterile, sharp scent of soldiers not far away.

And his hearing—it was loud. So loud he had to clutch the side of his head to adjust. He could hear the whisper of leaves outside, the ticking of the old clock in the living room, even Zei’s voice murmuring gently to Lu Zhi through the walls.

He laid there, panting, his skin red and soaked in sweat, but slowly cooling.

The drug was gone.

The weakness had melted away.

And with it—his powers returned.

Yunfeng opened his eyes fully.

Blue-green, clear, bright, burning with resolve.

He felt strong again.

And more than anything... he was ready.