The Villainess Redeems Herself, The Beast Husbands are in a Daily Love Battle-Chapter 137: Overthinking

No familiar fluctuations, no subtle emotional feedback.

He remained wary of everyone.

Except for this female, he never let his guard down with her.

But at this moment, that sense of familiarity had vanished completely.

The air was filled with a strange emptiness.

Caleb Shaw stared at the figure on the bed, his throat slightly tight.

The quilt was neatly covered, giving no hint of a rise or fall.

What exactly went wrong?

Caleb took off his gloves, quietly folding them and placing them at the corner of the table.

He then slowly reached out his hand, his fingertips trembling slightly.

His fingers gently touched her cheek.

The skin was still soft and warm.

In that moment, something soft seemed to gently bump into Caleb’s heart.

His heart softened involuntarily.

In the days to come, he only wanted to be with her and their child.

No more fighting, no more calculating, and no more getting involved in those endless power struggles.

Selene Kane slept deeply.

In her dream, the sky was ablaze, flames licking the air, thick smoke rolling, choking her until she couldn’t breathe.

She was tied to a stake as a witch, her hands bound behind her at the post.

Cold and hateful faces surrounded her, with countless pairs of eyes staring at her like knives.

She struggled in the flames, unable to break free, only able to watch the fire approach with open eyes...

"Mmm..."

A low moan escaped her throat, her brow furrowed tightly.

Her body moved slightly, as if trying to escape the nightmare.

Caleb immediately noticed her movement and suddenly stood up.

He stood by the bed, his eyes locked onto her face.

"Female Master, I... I just came in because the baby was hungry, and you weren’t responding. I really didn’t mean anything else."

Selene slowly opened her eyes, her eyelashes trembling, her vision gradually becoming clear from blurry.

She looked at the somewhat anxious face of Caleb, her mouth twitching slightly.

Is it really worth being that afraid?

She didn’t scold you, nor did she wake up grumpy; she just took a nap.

"Where’s the baby? Bring her in."

She said in a soft voice, her voice still a little hoarse.

"Yes."

Caleb responded as if relieved, immediately turning around and heading for the door.

Outside the door, the butler had been waiting for a long time.

Upon hearing the instructions from inside the room, he immediately came in, carrying the baby wrapped in a soft blanket.

The baby’s little face was reddish, the skin so delicate it was almost transparent, with a furrowed brow.

The little mouth opened into a small O, emitting a weak, soft whimper, like a newborn kitten.

"Are you... a bit disappointed?"

Selene suddenly spoke, her tone calm.

The question left Caleb stunned, freezing him where he stood, his eyes full of bewilderment.

"What?"

The Female Master was safe next to him.

The child was also born safely, though weak, yet healthy.

What could he be unhappy about?

But Selene didn’t look at him, only lowered her head, her gaze falling on the small swaddled bundle in her arms.

"Aren’t you all hoping for strong offspring? But our daughter is so small and weak, wouldn’t you... feel embarrassed?"

In this world where the strong rule, strength decides everything.

The weak are stripped even of the right to survive, let alone inherit family businesses or earn respect.

Weak children would only become burdens to the family, jokes in the mouth of others.

In the slums, she had seen too many males biting through their offspring’s necks because they were too weak, in the name of "purifying bloodlines."

They would rather seek new partners, restart the genetic chain, than bear the name of a "defective product."

She would never allow this child to be despised by her father.

Even if it meant defying the system’s rules, breaking taboos, and enduring irreversible punishment.

She wouldn’t let anyone lay a finger on her.

Caleb was stunned for a moment, then gently laughed.

"I would never be disappointed."

"This child is ours, my only bloodline, and the gift you risked your life to bring.

He spoke, his voice somewhat choked, his eyes slightly red.

"My true form, I have never revealed to others, not even the closest kin have seen my real self."

He paused, his gaze falling on her face.

"My family has always been low-key, never flaunting, unwilling to get involved in strife. But you, you became the exception."

"But you know."

There was an unusual satisfaction in his tone.

"You saw my true form, heard my secret, even walked into my heart."

"Actually..."

He lowered his head, his cheek almost brushing against her hair.

"I’m just an ordinary Persian cat."

"For you to accept me as I am, willing to be with me, is already a great blessing. How could I despise our daughter?"

Selene was taken aback, her entire body stiffening for a moment.

Instinctively, she lowered her head to look at the small being in her arms.

That wrinkled little face, those pink fingers, grasping her clothes unconsciously.

Thinking carefully, it made sense.

The child she fought so hard to bring into the world, braving the life-and-death gateway of the delivery room.

Why should she care about the eyes of outsiders?

Her fingernails gently dug into her palm, reminding herself to stay clearheaded.

"I’ll feed her."

She tried to nurse the baby, initially clumsy, her posture incorrect, the angle imprecise.

The baby’s mouth never found the right position, and she broke into a slight sweat with anxiety.

The system sighed, "It’s really touching, this scene could practically be shot as a heartwarming parenting advertisement. You’re finally looking a bit like a mom."

Selene’s back suddenly tensed, her muscles instantly going rigid.

The warmth from a moment ago was pierced by that sentence.

She looked at the baby’s small mouth, suddenly realizing something was wrong.

This emotional dependence was too dangerous.

Maternal instincts are indeed powerful.

But if they were to completely dominate her, would she still be her own independent self?

"I think..."

She bit her lip, her voice slightly dry.

"It might be better to give her formula."

She instinctively added, "The doctor also said formula is nutritionally balanced, more hygienic, and better suited for the modern lifestyle."

Damn, almost fell into the emotional trap!

She warned herself inwardly.

If she were truly held captive by so-called maternity, abandoning rational judgment.

How would she be any different from beastmen who live by instinct alone?

Caleb’s eyes darkened, the light in them shifting from warmth to obscurity.

He was silent for a few seconds, his fingers unconsciously stroking the fur on his sleeve.

"Do you... find it uncomfortable to breastfeed?"

He actually didn’t want the child to have formula.

In the community he grew up in, the young were nursed by their mother.

It wasn’t only a way to maintain blood ties, but also the first step in establishing a close relationship.

The feelings would be deeper, and health would be better.

He firmly believed it.

"If you really don’t want to, you could feed her less often."

He softened his tone, trying not to sound too demanding.

"But don’t completely refuse her."

He lowered his eyes, his eyelashes hiding the disappointment in his pupils.

"Do you... have a problem with me?"

His voice lowered, nearing a whisper.

"Only beast husbands who aren’t favored have children who are not breastfed by the mother."

"Huh."

Selene opened her mouth, momentarily unsure how to respond.

She was utterly speechless.

This guy was overthinking way too much!