Interstellar Beast World: All My Husbands Are Powerful and Rich!-Chapter 219: I’ll be good
Terry had already fallen asleep, still draped over Paros’s horn.
The moment Paros mentioned his headache, Rory’s heart tightened. She immediately assumed his mental power was spiraling out of control again.
"Is your mental power acting up again?"
She tried to pry his arms from around her waist so she could turn and check on him, but those arms were like iron bands, utterly unyielding.
Not only did Paros refuse to let go, but he also tightened his hold, pulling her closer until she was almost pressed entirely into his chest.
He buried his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling the faint, clean scent of her hair. His warm breath brushed against her sensitive skin, sending a subtle shiver down her spine.
"Paros, stop it—let go of me."
Rory tried to pull away, but his strength was overwhelming. And in his current state—with his mental barrier collapsed—he was as stubborn and clingy as a child.
If he didn’t want to let go, she simply couldn’t break free.
"I won’t."
His voice had changed. Gone was the earlier grievance—in its place was a low, husky murmur, laced with deliberate dependence and something dangerously coaxing.
"Big sis... just let me hold you like this for a while."
His lips brushed lightly against her earlobe, intentional or not, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper, like a lover’s murmur:
"You smell so nice... when I hold you, my head doesn’t hurt anymore."
Rory tilted her head, staring at him in stunned disbelief.
She could hardly believe such shamelessly flirtatious words had come from Paros.
Beast God...
Was this really the same man who once carried himself like a cold, untouchable emperor—arrogant, domineering, determined to rule the stars?
This wasn’t a mental collapse.
This looked more like he’d been possessed by some seductive spirit.
"Don’t you want to?"
When she didn’t respond, his arms tightened further around her waist.
A dangerous edge crept into his voice.
Alarm bells rang instantly in Rory’s mind.
The dragon clan’s physician had warned her—Paros’s mental collapse had regressed his mind. He was now like a child starved of security: stubborn, sensitive, and intensely possessive.
This was not the time to provoke him.
She had to follow his lead—soothe him first. Once comforted, he would calm down.
With that thought, Rory slowly forced her tense body to relax.
She let him hold her, even lifting a hand to gently pat the arm wrapped around her waist.
"It’s not that I don’t want to," she said softly, her tone patient and gentle, like she was coaxing a child. "It’s just... standing like this is tiring."
"Paros, how about we move somewhere else, alright? I’ll help you with your mental soothing—but it’s not convenient here. Let’s go back to your chambers."
The moment he heard the suggestion to move, Paros stiffened in resistance.
He pressed his face deeper into her shoulder, nuzzling against her as his voice turned stubborn.
"No. If I let go of you, my head will start hurting again."
"I’m not asking you to let go," Rory said quickly, soothing him while her mind raced for a compromise.
Then, an idea struck her. "How about this... you can keep holding me while we walk, alright? I’ll move slowly. I won’t leave you."
Paros didn’t respond. He didn’t move either. Clearly, he wasn’t convinced.
Rory continued patiently, "Paros, don’t you get tired standing like this?"
"I’m not tired." His muffled voice came from behind her.
She pressed her lips together, letting a hint of softness creep into her tone.
"But I am... I’m tired. I want to sit down."
At her words, the man behind her fell silent.
After a long pause, he finally relented—albeit reluctantly—with a quiet, low "Mm."
Just then, Ethan Gabriel and Sandon arrived, searching for Paros.
What they saw froze them in place.
Their mighty, imposing Dragon Lord was clinging to Rory from behind like an oversized, overly attached hound.
Paros shot them a sharp, dangerous glance.
The two men instantly stopped where they were, not daring to take another step or make a single sound.
Paros tightened his hold around Rory again, almost enveloping her completely within his presence. His chin remained stubbornly propped on her shoulder.
In that awkward yet intimate posture, he half-dragged, half-guided her forward, inch by inch, toward his chambers.
Only after the two figures disappeared into the distance did Sandon finally grab Ethan’s sleeve, his voice trembling with excitement.
"Did you see that? Our Dragon Lord... was he—was he acting spoiled toward Rory?"
Though... the way he did it wasn’t exactly dignified.
But that didn’t matter. When it came to a mate, dignity wasn’t important—what mattered was winning her favor.
"Ethan, at this rate, our dragon clan might soon have a little Dragon Lord!"
Sandon beamed. "I’ll make sure to live a few hundred more years—just to help raise the hatchlings!"
Ethan, however, pressed a hand to his twitching right eye. "Rory has already dissolved her bond with our Dragon Lord. The fact that she’s still willing to help soothe him is already more than we could ask for."
As for dragon hatchlings... He didn’t even dare to imagine it.
And knowing their Dragon Lord’s temperament—once Paros recovered and realized everything he had done...
The mere thought of it was enough to make one’s scalp tingle.
***
At last, Rory managed—step by painstaking step—to coax Paros back to his chambers.
She guided him to the edge of the bed.
But instead of sitting down, still holding her tightly, Paros simply pulled her down with him as he lay back.
He looked at her, their foreheads pressed together, his dragon tail coiling firmly around her waist.
"Big sis... I want to do the soothing like this."
Even with his mind in disarray... he was still this domineering.
Rory let out a helpless breath.
"...That won’t work."
Rory had no intention of soothing him like this.
She pushed against Paros twice, but couldn’t budge him at all.
"Let go of me first."
Paros looked displeased, but he still loosened his hold slightly.
He gazed at her with open grievance.
"That fish was holding your hand, and you didn’t make him let go. But I’m just wrapping my tail around you, and you’re already telling me to stop."
His eyes darkened when he mentioned Wen—danger flickering within them, his killing intent undisguised.
"Big sis... do you not like me?"
Rory’s heart jolted.
She genuinely feared that, in his current state, Paros might rush out and kill Wen on the spot.
In the Water Domain, there was no one who could stop him now.
"It’s not that I don’t like you," she said quickly, soothing him. "Your tail is wrapped too tightly around me—I can’t focus on helping you like this."
As she spoke, she lifted a hand and gently cupped his face.
"Be good, alright? I promise... I like you too."
The moment he heard that she liked him, Paros leaned into her touch, rubbing his cheek softly against her palm. His dark eyes lit up, brimming with unguarded delight.
"I’ll be good. I’ll make Big Sis like me."
He obediently stopped moving.
But the dragon tail around her waist didn’t fully withdraw—it only loosened slightly.
Rory didn’t argue further.
Instead, she pressed her palm gently against his forehead.
Her mental power slipped into his mental sea.
No wonder he had complained of a headache—the molten currents she had previously suppressed were surging wildly once more.
Rory focused, guiding her power carefully as she pressed the raging flow back under control.
As she did, she noticed something new.
Along the shattered edges of his mental barrier, a thin, translucent film had begun to form.
Her heart lifted. A new mental barrier... it was beginning to regenerate.
Once it fully reformed, Paros would truly recover.
Gradually, the violent currents settled again.
But by the time calm returned, Rory’s mental energy was nearly exhausted.
She withdrew her hand from his forehead.
The instant her touch left him, Paros’s closed eyes snapped open.
His gaze locked onto her face.
His tail tightened suddenly around her waist, and his cool fingertips brushed lightly across her lips...
