The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 105: Maybe the stupid snake beastman finally learned his place

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Chapter 105: Chapter 105: Maybe the stupid snake beastman finally learned his place

A few minutes later, the sound of steady footsteps crunched over dry leaves and packed earth.

Kian.

Even before he reached the hut, his eyes locked with Cyrus. There was no greeting, no shift in expression—only a brief flicker of narrowed disdain, like a beast silently warning another off its territory.

The tension was quiet, oppressive, and immediate.

Kian didn’t slow his pace. He simply walked past the still figure of Cyrus, not offering even a flicker of acknowledgement. Behind him came Asael, ever silent, ever unreadable. The younger man looked confused, his gaze empty with a touch of reluctance, like someone dragged into a conflict he neither started nor understood.

Cyrus exhaled quietly.

He had no claim, no authority, no tie strong enough to demand entry into the small, quiet hut. And yet, how he wished—gods, he wished—he had been born Isabella’s brother.

Not because he wanted it to be true.

But because if he were, then no one would dare to stop him from being near her.

She had been the first—the only—to treat him like he wasn’t just a beast who was dangerous to every kind. To see him and still offer him a place by her fire.

Now, he would stand outside that fire for a lifetime if that’s what it took to repay her kindness. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Even if it burned.

Even if he was never invited in.

Inside, Kian stepped into the hut, his sharp gaze scanning the room with thinly-veiled irritation. It was too cramped. Too warm. Too loud.

"Must you three be here?" he asked, his voice brittle with distaste.

It was rhetorical, of course. Everything Kian said was a test—and none of them ever passed.

Shelia didn’t even hesitate. "Luca, leave," she snapped without glancing back.

The man blinked. Once. Twice. Then slowly stood, betrayal etched across his serious features like a crack in solid rock.

Kian didn’t even look at him. His attention had already shifted.

And when his gaze finally landed on Isabella—small, still, drenched in sweat—it hit him.

His jaw clenched tight.

He hadn’t expected the sight to make his chest twist like that. Hadn’t expected to feel anything.

But there it was.

She looked... fragile. Even while sick, she looked ethereal. The faint glow of her skin, despite the fever that gripped her, made her seem almost otherworldly—like a delicate flower teetering on the edge of life and death.

And that unsettled him far more than he liked.

Her lips were dry, parted slightly as she struggled to breathe. Her entire body was damp with sweat, her skin pale and fevered.

Something in him snapped. It was subtle, internal. A crack in the ice that barely made a sound.

"I will ask again," he said, and this time, his voice was cold enough to hush even the air. "Must you three be in here?"

"Brother," Shelia whispered, voice shaky. "She... she needs someone."

Opehlia was already trembling. Luca’s head was bowed low, ashamed.

Kian didn’t reply. He simply walked over, slid his arms beneath Isabella’s weak form, and lifted her with ease.

No one questioned it.

Not when they saw his expression.

The three of them rushed out without another word.

Cyrus tensed the moment the hide door flaped open.

He saw them scatter, panic on their faces. And then he saw him—Kian—walking out with Isabella in his arms.

His whole world stopped.

Isabella’s small voice broke through the silence. "Oh... fresh air," she murmured faintly, her words strained, as though each syllable scraped against her raw throat.

Her eyes fluttered, and she fell silent once more. Her lips trembled, and a faint wince passed across her face, as if speaking had caused a sharp, searing pain deep in her throat—something she could no longer ignore.

She had overexerted herself just to say that much. The effort left her fragile, a thin thread holding her to consciousness.

Everyone froze. A sick realization dawned on them like cold fog creeping in.

She had been suffering.

And they had missed it.

While they fussed, argued, made rules and gates around her—she had been slipping.

They hadn’t helped her.

They’d only made it worse.

Opehlia bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Shelia’s fists clenched. Luca looked like he wanted to vanish into the earth.

They could only hope she wouldn’t remember this. Or if she did... that she wouldn’t devour them.

Suddenly, a small white blur zipped past their feet.

Glimora.

The mystical little creature darted out of the hut with shocking speed, her tiny legs surprisingly nimble.

Before anyone could move, she leapt—and landed gracefully on Kian’s shoulder.

He blinked, caught off guard.

Then slowly turned his head... and was met with two piercing blue eyes glaring up at him, unblinking.

The silent accusation from the beast was loud. It practically screamed, "I’m not leaving her side, so don’t even try."

The way Glimora puffed out her tiny chest made it almost impossible for Kian to suppress the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

Kian said nothing. He didn’t brush her off either.

She was Isabella’s. And Isabella would panic if Glimora wasn’t with her. That was all that mattered.

He walked off with measured steps, Isabella’s head gently resting against his chest. (Such good opportunity, if only she wasn’t half dead ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ)

The others followed wordlessly, shame trailing behind them like shadows.

But Shelia paused. She heard the soft crunch of footsteps behind her and turned sharply.

Cyrus.

She met his pink gaze, sharp and unwavering. "You are not allowed in my palace," she said coldly, jabbing a finger at him like he was a threat.

Then she turned and left without waiting for a response.

Cyrus stared after them, eyes soft and unreadable.

Conflicted.

Helpless.

And then, in the blink of an eye—he vanished.

Shelia turned again, expecting to find him still watching.

But the path behind her was empty.

She smiled smugly to herself. "Maybe the stupid snake beastman finally learned his place."

But the wind carried the faintest hiss.

And somewhere in the trees, something unseen slithered quietly in the dark.rdd