Round 199

The building groaned around them, a sound like a beast settling into sleep or death. Thirty-five minutes remained—forty if they were being generous, and none of them had ever been the type to count on luck in situations like this. The hunger was palpable now, a physical weight pressing against their skin, demanding more than just space and air.

Jeane stood near the bathroom door, her eyes glistening with hurt and something else—something darker, hungrier—that made Silra's stomach twist. Every second she stayed away from touch, from release, the pressure built until she trembled with it. Hera assigned tasks quickly: Silra to reinforce the door frames, Halie to consult on structural integrity with Abby. But none of it mattered if they couldn't control Jeane.

"Go," Silra said, her voice harder than she meant it to be but there was no softness left for comfort right now—not when they were two minutes from being crushed by a building with an erection problem. "You're not helping. You're making things worse, and we don't have time for this." She gestured sharply toward the bathroom door. "Go. Shut the door. Cool off. Whatever you need to do that doesn't involve turning us all into horny messes who can't..."

The words died on her tongue as the building shuddered again, harder this time. The walls flexed visibly, metal groaning in protest. They were out of time.