Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands-Chapter 288 --.

After flying for two whole days—brief rests here and there aside—they finally landed near a tree. Veer leaned heavily against it, hopping slightly, each movement careful. Kaya could see the strain etched into his features. Anyone would be exhausted after such a journey. Two days of near-continuous travel, carrying weight and battling fatigue—she understood all too well.

Kaya’s eyes drifted to the nearby river. She walked over, brushing aside leaves and letting the cool water lap over her hands. She cupped the water and splashed it onto her face, the cold sending a sharp, refreshing shock through her skin. As droplets slid down her cheeks, she looked around.

This place was different. They hadn’t sought refuge in a nearby tribe—naturally, none would welcome outsiders like them. Here, at least, they were alone. The river sparkled, clear and inviting, revealing tiny fish darting among smooth pebbles beneath the surface.

A small smile flashed across Kaya’s face. She let her hand linger in the cold water; the chill was oddly soothing, easing some of the tension from her body.

She glanced at the sparrow, perched nearby.

"You stay here and watch for anything unusual," she instructed.

The sparrow chirped in acknowledgment, though what choice did he really have?

Kaya slowly removed her shirt, wrapping a towel around her body, then peeled off her pants and underwear. The chill of the river was immediate when her feet touched the water, sending shivers up her spine—but the sensation was strangely relaxing. She waded in carefully, the cool current soothing every ache, every tired muscle.

As she stepped deeper, letting the water swirl around her legs, Kaya felt a rare, fleeting moment of peace.

Kaya stood in the river, the icy water swirling around her legs, and glanced down at her reflection. The face staring back at her was sharper than she remembered, her arms and shoulders thinner. She had lost too much weight. Too much. Walking for days, barely eating, surviving on scraps—it was all catching up to her. Her body had no strength, no balance, no reserves to fall back on.

Her mind wandered to the salt. The stores were almost gone. Out here, so far from the ocean, she couldn’t just replenish it whenever she liked. A trip to the coast might be fifty kilometers... maybe a hundred... and who knew what dangers lay in between? Asking Veer to make that journey repeatedly was out of the question. If other tribes discovered the mermaid tribe’s hidden caches of salt, it could spark a war. And right now, they were nowhere near the sea.

Two, maybe three kilos of salt remained. Kaya’s eyes widened at the thought. Even with careful rationing, even with her occasional trades, the supply had dwindled faster than she’d expected. And some of it had been stored at Veer’s house because she simply couldn’t carry more than a small amount at a time.

She ran her fingers through the cold water, watching the ripples distort her reflection. Survival wasn’t just walking, flying, or fighting. It was every small decision: how much to carry, what to eat, when to rest, what to risk. Even something as simple as salt—a thing so mundane, so ordinary—could become a weapon or a weakness in the wrong hands.

Kaya pressed a hand to her forehead, shivering not just from the river’s chill but from the weight of it all. Every small detail mattered. Every misstep could tip the balance. And yet... she couldn’t afford to stop.

Suddenly—drip... drip...

Kaya looked down at the river. A tiny, bright red drop fell from her nose and hit the water, spreading like a scarlet ripple. Her hand shot up instinctively—and froze. Blood coated her fingers.

Her nose was bleeding.

Veer, who had been closing his eyes for a brief moment of rest, snapped them open. His gaze landed on her instantly, sharp, piercing, filled with alarm. The sparrow flitted closer, wings tense, as if sensing the urgency in the air.

In a heartbeat, Veer was beside her. He scooped her up from the river, holding her firmly but with careful precision. Water dripped from her hair, her skin gleamed with the chill of the river, but Veer’s focus was entirely on the crimson stain creeping across her fingers.

"You—what happened?!" His voice cracked slightly, taut with worry.

Kaya, attempting calm, wiped at her nose. "Nothing," she muttered, forcing a laugh. "It’s probably just... the heat."

Veer’s eyes narrowed. The heat? He stared at the blood in her hand, then back at her face. His chest tightened. Flying open for hours, exposed to the sun... but that doesn’t explain this fully.

She tried to convince herself, too. Nosebleeds weren’t a catastrophe, right? Flying without cover in the sun, a little heat... it made sense. Yet even as she said it, the blood in her palm made her stomach twist.

Veer’s grip didn’t loosen. He held her closer, the weight of his body acting as a shield against the world. His eyes, dark and sharp, scanned her carefully, reading every flicker of discomfort, every twitch of tension. His jaw tightened. If anyone—or anything—so much as breathed near her, they’d regret it.

The sparrow perched nearby, eyes wide, wings twitching nervously. He chirped, softly, but there was a caution in his tone, as though warning both Kaya and Veer that danger could be anywhere.

Kaya met Veer’s gaze. There was concern there, raw and unflinching. It was a look that said, I will not let anything harm you. Not now. Not ever.

Even though she wanted to protest, to reassure him that it was nothing, she found herself unable to speak. There was no point arguing with the intensity of his care.

Veer finally broke the silence, voice low but steady. "We’ll rest here. No more flying for now. You need to recover."

Kaya clenched her jaw but allowed herself a small nod. The river’s chill seeped into her, numbing her skin, but Veer’s presence grounded her. The sparrow watched silently, perched like a sentinel.