The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts

Isabella placed her hands on her hips. "What, because I said no to one belly rub? Just one?"

Glimora, still turned away, let out the faintest huff through her nose.

"Oh, so now you’re mad at me for not rubbing your tummy the instant you flopped over like a pink pancake?" Isabella groaned, crouching down to face her. "Seriously, you act like I denied you water in the desert."

Glimora finally turned her head slightly—just enough to shoot Isabella a betrayed glare, those sparkly eyes big and glistening, like she’d just been personally victimized by her own mother.

"You rolled over at the worst moment Glimora,. I wasn’t ignoring you—I was trying to get a grip of myself at that moment"

The beast blinked slowly, clearly unmoved by the logic.

"Oh my god," Isabella muttered, then looked up at Cyrus for backup. "Can you believe this? She wanted a belly rub while I was literally being insulted—called talkative like it was a crime. What did she expect me to do? Defend my honor with one hand and rub her belly with the other?"

Cyrus gave a tiny shrug, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

Isabella turned back to Glimora and sighed dramatically. "You know what? Fine. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll give you the longest belly rub in beast history. I’ll even sing while I do it—make it a whole spa session. Roasted meat. Sweet fruits. Fluffy pillow. Name it."

At the sound of roasted meat, Glimora’s ears twitched.

Isabella caught it. "Ah! You heard that one, huh?"