Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands-Chapter 274 --
"DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT NAME TO ME!" he roared, ember eyes blazing like wildfire. His chest heaved, his damp hair clinging to his forehead, muscles rigid with fury.
The healer stumbled back, trembling, but Veer’s voice only grew harsher.
"You think I’d hand her—my Kaya—to those venomous bastards? The same tribe that slithers in the dark, poisoning, betraying, smiling while they stab you in the back? Do you know how many of my kin rotted because of their lies? And you dare stand here and tell me—ME—that I should crawl to them for help?!"
His fist slammed the table again, splitting the wood this time. Shards flew, a jar rolled off and shattered on the floor. The healer dropped to his knees, head bowed, too terrified to speak.
Veer’s voice dropped to a growl, low but shaking with rage.
"I would rather die. I would rather burn every last drop of blood in my body... than take her to those filthy snakes."
For a long moment, only the sound of Veer’s ragged breathing filled the room. The healer dared not move. And yet, beneath that storm of fury, Veer’s thoughts were already turning back to Kaya — her sapphire eyes, her strange strength, the way she had nearly broken him without even touching him.
And the truth that terrified him more than the snakes ever could:
He had no answers.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Veer stood there, chest heaving, eyes burning like molten fire, while the healer stayed on his knees, sweat sliding down his temple.
At last, with a shaky breath, the old man lifted his head. His voice trembled, but his words cut sharp:
"My lord... forgive me. But what will your pride matter if that girl dies?"
Veer froze.
The healer’s hands clenched tightly against the floor, knuckles pale. "You call them filthy snakes, you curse their name, but if they hold the knowledge to save her and you refuse..." He gulped, his gaze dropping under Veer’s blazing eyes. "Then it will not be the snakes who kill her. It will be you."
The words hit Veer harder than any blade. His jaw tightened, his teeth grinding. His fists curled so tightly his knuckles cracked.
For a moment, the air around him trembled with rage — he looked ready to tear the old man apart for daring to speak so boldly. But then... an image burned in his mind: Kaya’s trembling voice whispering Please, save me. I don’t want to die.
His fury faltered. His ember eyes flickered with something else. Fear.
Veer slammed his fist into the broken table one last time, but this time it was different — not pure rage, but frustration, despair. He turned his head away, breathing like a beast in a cage.
"Get out," he growled, voice low and shaking. "Before I do something I regret."
The healer bowed his head deeply, trembling, but in his heart, he knew his words had struck Veer’s core.
That night, the healer shivered on the thick branch of a nearby tree, his old back aching as he tried to stay awake. Each time an owl screeched or the wind rustled the leaves, he cursed under his breath — cursed his life, cursed Veer, cursed the girl who had dragged him into this storm. Yet no matter how much he muttered, he dared not go back. Veer’s wrath still burned in his mind, and he knew the young lord was dangerous when pushed.
Inside the house, however, Veer himself was no less tormented.
He sat hunched on the edge of the bed, hair still but not from water but sweat, fists tangled in it as if he could rip the thoughts from his skull. His breath came harsh, uneven. The sight of Kaya’s pale face lying so still on the sheets seared into his chest like a wound that refused to close.
"Please, save me... I don’t want to die."
The memory of her trembling voice cracked through him again, sharp as a blade. His shoulders shuddered. No matter how strong he was, no matter how fearless he pretended to be, those words had sunk into his marrow.
He pressed his hands harder into his scalp, pulling until pain shot through his skin. Damn it. Going to the snake tribe was madness — betrayal. If his people learned, they’d brand him a traitor, a weakling crawling to their enemy. And even if he dared... would the snakes even answer? Or would they toy with him, bleed him, kill him the moment he stepped into their den?
But then his mind twisted back, always back, to Kaya. The way she burned with that strange fire in her eyes. The way poison that wouldn’t harm even a child nearly broke her apart. What if it happened again? What if next time he wasn’t there to hold her, to hear her voice before it faded?
The thought made his chest constrict. His ember eyes flickered with something he would never admit aloud: fear.
He clenched his fists so tight his nails dug bloody crescents into his palms. His body shook with silent rage, not at the healer, not even at the snakes... but at himself. At his own helplessness.
The night stretched on, cold and merciless. The healer cursed from his perch outside. Veer sat inside, unblinking, the weight of two worlds pressing on him — duty to his tribe, and the desperate need to keep Kaya alive.
By dawn, he had not closed his eyes once.
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.
The sound of morning birds pulled Kaya from the heavy dark. Her eyes fluttered open, only to be met with a stabbing pain splitting across her skull. She winced, pressing her palm against her forehead, rubbing as if the motion might soothe the ache clawing inside her head.
Her vision blurred, light flooding in too harsh, too sudden. She blinked slowly, forcing her eyes to focus.
Nothing felt right.
She drew in a shaky breath, trying to gather her thoughts, but the more she tried, the more her mind slipped away like water through her fingers.
