90. Meeting the In-laws.

I barely made it back into the tent before I was tackled by a wild Fleur. She crashed into me with such force that I had to brace myself, my arms instinctively wrapping around her as we stumbled back. Her usually pristine appearance was slightly disheveled—her Veela heritage flaring to the surface. Feathers had sprouted along her arms and shoulders, her nails sharper than usual, and her clothes were singed from where her magic had reacted to her heightened emotions.

Her lips crashed against mine in a deep, searing kiss, filled with urgency and raw need. She wasn't just excited—she was claiming me.

"Meet... parents... now... mate!" she panted in between desperate kisses, her hands gripping my shoulders like a lioness refusing to let her prey escape.

She was grinding against me, her body heated beyond reason, her Veela instincts completely taking over.

I barely had time to smirk before I felt a familiar tug on my collar. Turning slightly, I caught Yue and Rachel standing at the entrance of the tent, watching with varying degrees of amusement and exasperation.

"At least wait until after the awards ceremony," Yue sighed, crossing her arms, though I could see the hint of a smirk on her lips.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Seriously, control your bird before she starts a fire."

Fleur growled lowly at the interruption but didn't stop pressing against me, her lips ghosting over my neck as she whispered hotly, "You're mine tonight... no escaping."

I chuckled, placing a firm hand on her waist. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it."

Just as I was about to regain some semblance of control over the situation, the tent flap opened once more, and in stepped two very distinct figures.

Fleur's parents.

Apolline Delacour, elegant and radiant even in the dim tent lighting, and her husband, Jean Delacour, whose sharp eyes immediately honed in on the scene before him.

Fleur, still latched onto me like a desperate koala, was utterly unbothered by their presence. If anything, she tightened her grip, her arms locked around my neck as she continued to trail hot, lingering kisses over any inch of skin she could reach.

I could practically feel Jean's piercing gaze burning into my skull, a mix of fatherly protectiveness and sheer disbelief. Apolline, on the other hand, simply raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow, her lips curving into an amused yet knowing smile.

"Mon trésor," Apolline said lightly, the French accent making her voice all the more melodic, "perhaps now is not the best time to smother your mate in public?"

Fleur barely spared her mother a glance, her fingers tightening in my hair as she let out a breathy sigh. "Non... He fought, he won... he's mine now... nothing else matters."

Jean took a slow, deep breath, his mustache twitching. "We are right here, Fleur." His voice was calm, but there was a distinct edge to it.

Still, Fleur didn't budge. If anything, she nuzzled against me, her Veela side clearly still in overdrive from the fight.

I coughed, offering the elder Delacours my most charming, non-threatening smile. "I, uh… I assume this isn't exactly how you expected to meet me?"

Apolline laughed softly behind her hand, while Jean simply pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something in rapid French that was mainly grumbles about losing his daughter and subtle death threats.

In followed a much smaller version of Fleur, her sister Gabrielle, who was jabbering away excitedly about the fight. She completely ignored her sister who wasn't calming down the slightest.

Apolline sighed knowingly, a glimmer of amusement and understanding in her eyes as she observed her daughter practically molding herself against me. She was no fool—she knew exactly what was happening. Fleur's Veela instincts had been pushed to the brink, and if something wasn't done soon, she'd either explode or set the entire tent on fire.

Jean, on the other hand, looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. His eye twitched as he opened his mouth—probably to protest—but Apolline simply placed a delicate hand on his arm, silencing him with a look only a wife could give.

"Jean, be reasonable," she murmured, her voice gentle but firm. "You know as well as I do that this was inevitable. If they don't complete the bond soon, Fleur will only become worse. It's best to let nature take its course."

Jean's jaw clenched, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to strangle someone—likely me—but he didn't argue. He merely exhaled sharply through his nose, muttering curses under his breath.

Apolline turned back to me, her gaze locking onto mine with a strange mixture of warmth and authority. "Ryan, you have our blessing. I trust you will take care of my daughter properly." Her lips curled into a knowing smile. "And from the looks of it, you don't have much of a choice either way."

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Apolline clapped her hands together, turning on her heel. "Come, Jean, Gabrielle. Let's give them some privacy. We'll meet with them later."

Jean shot me a final, warning glance—the universal hurt her, and you die look—but ultimately allowed himself to be dragged away by his wife. Gabrielle, Fleur's younger sister, giggled into her hands as she glanced back at us before skipping after her parents.

As soon as they were gone, Fleur let out a relieved purr, her nails digging into my back as she pressed even closer. "Finally." Her voice was husky, breathless, her pupils blown wide with need.

I barely had time to process before she grabbed my collar and yanked me down for another searing kiss. Whatever restraint she'd been holding onto before had completely snapped.

I pulled us into the inner world.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body radiating heat as her instincts took over completely. The moment we landed in my inner world, she pounced, her claws raking over my shirt, shredding the fabric as if it were paper.

"Mine," she growled, her voice a sultry mix of possessiveness and desperation. Her Veela heritage was in full control now, her normally refined demeanor replaced by something primal, something ancient.

The air around us shimmered with raw magic as her passion ignited the very space itself. Her clothes burned away in an instant, revealing flawless, porcelain skin that seemed to glow under the ethereal light of my world. Her pink nipples were hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly with every heated breath.

Her thighs were slick, her arousal undeniable. Fleur had been holding back for months, waiting, aching, needing. And now, there was no stopping her.

I barely had time to react before she tackled me to the ground, her lips crashing against mine, her body molding perfectly to my own. Her hands roamed greedily, nails leaving tingling trails down my back as she ground herself against me.

"No more waiting," she whispered, her voice dripping with lust and devotion. "Tonight, you claim me."