Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands-Chapter 292 --

The healer crouched without hurry and reached out, fingers hovering before he gently touched Kaya’s wrist. He raised his hand toward her face as if to check her eyes.

"Grrr—" Veer’s growl ripped from his chest, low and feral. With one powerful sweep of his wing he smacked the healer’s hand away—"Smack!"—feathers scattering, a stinging gust of air.

The healer only frowned, unshaken. "I’m just checking her eyes," he said softly, as if explaining something obvious.

Veer’s glare never left him. Every muscle in his body trembled with the effort to stay controlled. With a furious, reluctant exhale—"Hhhff..."—he eased his wings back a fraction, still coiled like a trap.

The healer leaned closer, opened Kaya’s lids, studied the whites and the pupils with professional calm, then took her pulse again. He drew in a long breath and looked up at Veer.

"Her condition is not well," he said bluntly. "You must come inside with me."

Veer started to rise, fury flaring. The healer cut him off before the motion finished. "You cannot come in. Only her."

Veer’s growl rose again, sharper this time—"Rrrrhh!"—as if the sound itself might claw the man into submission. "Don’t you dare think about it," he snarled. "Do you really think I’ll let my wife go with you?"

The healer met him without flinching. His voice was quiet, iron-veined. "Then will you let her die here?" He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t need to. "Look at her. You’re in shock. You can’t control your beastly side right now. If you come inside and see blood, or if you lose control—what will happen? Do you think you’ll spare me? Or will you break her trying to protect her?"

Veer’s hands clenched until his knuckles went white. He felt the truth of the man’s words like hot iron under his skin. His breath hitched—"Huff—huff—"—and for the first time in hours a terrifying clarity sharpened through the cloud of adrenaline: his body was already teetering on the edge. He was not in command. His protectiveness had become an obsession, raw and dangerous.

The healer’s gaze was steady, almost pitying. "If you can’t trust yourself to stay calm, then you must stay out of the room. It’s the only way."

Veer’s jaw worked. The growl in his throat simmered down into a low, trapped rumble—"grr... hmph..."—as he fought the animal inside him. He wanted to refuse. He wanted to snatch Kaya back and bury himself into her until the world ended. Instead, slowly and with the weight of a defeated storm, he nodded once.

He let the healer take Kaya. The man moved with practiced gentleness, cradling her limp body as if it were fragile glass. Veer watched every careful step, every small medical motion, like a hawk watching a snake. His wings stayed half-spread, a physical barrier and a symbol of how he could not let go even while he obeyed.

When the healer reached the hut, he paused and looked back over his shoulder. "I’ll be quick. Stay here. Don’t follow." His tone left no room for argument.

Veer planted his feet, nails digging into the earth. "Grrr..." The sound was softer now, wound tight and raw. He crouched at the doorway and, for a heartbeat, felt the urge to barge in—then another hot wave of restraint washed over him. He could imagine the scent of blood, the seep of panic, and knew he would not be able to control what came next.

The hut door closed softly behind the healer. The night hummed—crickets, the distant rustle of leaves—and Veer stayed where he was, every nerve strung taut. His chest burned with the need to protect, to guard. He pressed his forehead to his arm and let out a single, broken sound—half-growl, half-sob—"Grr—hh..."—then straightened, eyes still glowing faint amber in the dark.

He would wait. He would guard the threshold. But for now, the only thing he could do was be outside, watching the door he could not cross.

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The healer laid Kaya gently on the wooden bed, her body still limp and pale in the dim light. He studied her for a long moment, this strange female who stirred something unusual in him. It wasn’t love—nothing so simple—but a pull, a quiet compulsion. Just looking at her, he thought, and he felt like kneeling, serving her, as if some invisible chain bound his will to hers.

The last time she had come to him, he had given her medicine—not because she needed it immediately, but as a test. He had wanted to see if she would take it willingly. Deep in his mind, he already knew she would not.

He moved with calm, precise motions. First, he pulled out a slender metal needle. Then, from a small collection of leaves, he selected several from the neem tree and crushed them in a stone bowl, grinding them with his hands until a dark, pungent paste formed. All the while, his eyes never left Kaya’s face, taking in every flicker of her features, every subtle twitch of her fingers.

He dipped a soft cloth in warm water and gently wiped her wrist, clearing the skin. Then he repeated the process with the leaf paste, carefully coating her skin, before finally wiping it clean once more. His movements were meticulous, almost ritualistic.

Finally, he took the warmed needle, holding it steady. In a swift, practiced motion, he struck it into Kaya’s wrist.

She blinked sharply, a small wince of pain crossing her pale face. Her fingers twitched slightly, but her body remained largely still.

The healer’s eyes flicked down to the wound. Dark red blood seeped slowly, thick and almost black in the dim light. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

The healer reached for Kaya’s other hand, taking it gently but firmly. Even though it was slightly harder to find the vein this time, his beast-like senses made the task almost effortless. With the procedure complete, he lowered her wrist, set his third hand down, and rose to his full height. In his grasp was a bowl filled with a dark, ominous liquid—a bitter, poisonous concoction that filled the air with its acrid scent.