The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts

The next morning, before the sky had even fully brightened and while the snow was still falling in soft white flakes outside, Cyrus was already awake.

He had woken up much earlier than usual because the moment he opened his eyes and saw Isabella still sleeping beside him, one thought immediately appeared in his mind.

She would be hungry.

Very hungry.

And because he knew her body well now, especially in these past months, he knew exactly what kind of hungry it would be. It would not be the small polite hunger of someone who could wait a little. It would be the kind of hunger that made her wake up with soft eyes, messy hair, and the expression of a female who would become dangerous if food did not appear quickly enough.

So Cyrus carefully slipped out from under the furs.

He moved so gently that he did not wake her, which was already impressive enough, because Isabella had become much lighter of sleep lately. Every little discomfort woke her up now. Sometimes it was because of the babies. Sometimes it was because she could not find a good position. Sometimes it was because one of the males around her breathed too loudly and offended her in his sleep.

Still, Cyrus managed it.

He stepped out quietly, his lower body shifting into his great red python tail because that made moving across the cold floor easier and faster, and then he went straight to prepare food.

Outside, the air was freezing and the snow had already covered the paths again. Inside, the room stayed warm from the furs and the fire, and before long, a new smell began spreading through the quiet morning.

Cyrus had made rice first, because even though there had once been a whole matter around rice in another place and another life, now Isabella could eat it here whenever she wanted, and that alone still felt like a victory in his heart. Along with it, he prepared warm soup, soft bread, and a few other little things he knew she liked to nibble on between bites when she wanted variety.

By the time he returned, the tray was full enough that anyone looking at it would immediately know this was not a simple breakfast.

This was a meal prepared by a male who had already decided his pregnant mate should not have even one reason to complain this morning.

Cyrus pushed the door open softly and came in.

Then he paused.

Because Isabella was just beginning to wake.

Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, her hair was a little messy from the furs, and one hand had already moved to her stomach before she even fully opened her eyes, as if she always checked there first now. Then the smell of breakfast reached her properly.

Immediately, her eyes opened wider.

Very wide.

Cyrus could not help smiling.

There it was.

That exact hungry look he had expected.

Isabella pushed herself up slowly, still wrapped in the fur from the bed, and stared at the tray in his hands with the kind of deep feeling a woman reserved for food, revenge, and other important things.

"Oh my God," she said softly.

Cyrus’s smile deepened at once.

He brought the tray over and set it down carefully before leaning in to kiss her lips. The kiss was brief and warm and still somehow enough to make Isabella blush slightly when she remembered last night.

That only made Cyrus’s eyes soften more.

"I knew you’d be hungry," he said.

Isabella looked at him, then at the tray, then back at him again.

To be honest, in that moment, he looked too good. His hair was still a little loose from sleep, his pink eyes were calm and warm, and his whole face carried that soft satisfied look of a male who had already taken care of everything before his female even had to ask.

So naturally, Isabella’s heart softened.

"Thank you," she said.

Then she began eating at once.

Cyrus sat beside her and watched with open satisfaction, because this was one of those very simple male pleasures beastmen had. Seeing their female eat well, especially when she was carrying children, made something in their chest relax.

So he stayed near her, adjusted the tray when needed, moved the bowl closer when she reached for it, and kept making sure she sat properly.

The whole room felt warm and quiet and very sweet.

Then Zyran barged in.

The door opened so suddenly that even Glimora, who had not yet arrived, would have been offended.

Zyran stood there with snow still dusting parts of his black hair and shoulders, and his expression was so full of grievance that he looked like a prince who had been personally betrayed by heaven.

"You locked me out last night," he said at once.

Isabella stopped chewing.

Cyrus slowly lifted his eyes.

Zyran stepped farther in with the face of a man who intended to suffer loudly. "I slept outside on the floor because some certain people were having fun without me."

The room went still for one second.

Then Isabella glared at him at once.

"You deserved that."

Zyran put a hand to his chest in pain. "How cruel. I spent the night cold and abandoned."

Isabella looked at him from head to toe and felt absolutely no pity.

This man had spent half his life acting shameless on purpose. If he had truly slept outside, then part of her was almost certain he had also done it dramatically.

"You are lying," she said.

Zyran clicked his tongue and paced in with long lazy steps, though there was real jealousy in his eyes beneath all the nonsense. "I am not. I was cast out like a poor unwanted beast while you two were inside enjoying yourselves."

Cyrus, who had been quiet until now, finally looked at him properly.

It was not a sweet look.

It was not soft.

It was a very real glare.

That alone made the room feel slightly colder despite the fire.

Zyran saw it and pointed at him at once. "You. You locked me out."

Cyrus ignored the accusation completely and only turned back to Isabella to steady the bowl before it slipped too close to the edge.

"Eat first," he said gently.

Seeing that made Zyran even more offended.