Chapter 225 - 226: You made a god want
"So you won’t take me with you?" Zyran asked, lower lip poked out in a perfect pout, eyes wide like some innocent child begging not to be left behind. His tone, of course, was dipped in mockery, and he even went so far as to press his palms together in front of his chest. "You’d leave me all alone, little temptress?"
Isabella stared at him like he’d just declared himself a lost puppy. Her eye twitched. Then twitched again. If she stayed any longer, she was going to scream.
"You’re not a stray dog!" she snapped.
"But I could be," Zyran said, dragging his voice into a melodramatic whine. "A very lonely, very dangerous, very sexy stray..."
"Gods, I need a drink," she muttered, rubbing her temple like she was fighting the world’s worst migraine.
Cyrus stood silently beside her, visibly trying not to smile. His eyes, gentle and soft as always, glanced at Zyran and then returned to Isabella’s flushed, frustrated face. "Do you want to head back?" he asked her, voice low, calm—like a gentle river smoothing her chaos.
"Yes. Yes, I do. Before I start throwing rocks," she replied and without warning, grabbed Cyrus’ hand like a lifeline.
Zyran raised a brow at that. "Oh? Holding his hand now? Should I be jealous?"
"No," Isabella said sweetly, already turning away, "because I don’t care what you feel."
"Ouch." Zyran clutched his chest dramatically like she’d shot him with an arrow of rejection. "You wound me, temptress."
"I meant to," she said through clenched teeth, tugging on Cyrus’ hand harder. "Come on. Let’s go. I can literally feel brain cells dying."