The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts

That night, the snow outside fell even harder than before, and the whole village looked quiet under the white cold. Inside the stone palace, however, the fire was still burning, the walls still held warmth, and the people inside were slowly settling down after a day that had already been far too full.

Isabella was tired.

Her stomach felt heavy, her back had been complaining for a long time now, and even though she was wrapped warmly and properly, she still looked like someone who had reached the point where even breathing too hard would annoy her.

Naturally, Cyrus had noticed all of that.

He was staying too close again.

To be more exact, he was staying extra close, because after everything that had happened that day, he seemed to have decided that if Isabella moved even one step away from him, then the night itself would become suspicious. His long red python tail was half coiled near her seat, and every now and then, he would use the tip to brush lightly against her ankle or the side of her chair just to remind himself that she was still there.

Isabella had already noticed what he was doing.

Still, she said nothing for now.

This was because he looked too sweet while doing it.

Kian was nearby, going through reports again because apparently lion kings truly did want to work themselves to death out of stubbornness alone. The firelight touched the side of his face, making his sharp features look even colder, and yet every few breaths, his eyes still moved toward Isabella without him seeming to notice.

Zyran was stretched lazily on one side like a black panther who had decided human form was only slightly less comfortable than beast form. One leg was thrown over the side of his seat, one arm rested behind his head, and from his expression, he looked like someone who was bored, awake, and fully ready to say something annoying the second the room became too quiet.

Osiris was the only one who did not fit the room at all.

He had been restless from the moment night settled.

He was there, yes, but his mind clearly was not. He had not made many stupid comments. He had not argued much. He had not even looked properly at Zyran when the other man made a few lazy remarks earlier. He only sat there with his shoulders tense, his jaw hard, and his eyes carrying that same haunted look he had worn since hearing the messenger speak of fire beasts.

Isabella had noticed.

Of course she had noticed.

She noticed everything about the people around her now, especially the men who had somehow become her trouble, her warmth, and her headache all at once.

That was why she had already been watching Osiris from time to time.

At first, she thought he only looked angry.

Then she realized it was deeper than anger.

There was something wrong with the way he sat.

Too stiff.

Too still.

As if every muscle in his back had been pulled tight and left there.

Then it happened.

Osiris suddenly sucked in a sharp breath.

The sound came so abruptly that every single person in the room looked at him at once.

For one terrible second, nobody moved.

Then Osiris’s whole body arched violently.

A raw scream tore out of his throat, and the sound was so full of rage and grief that even Isabella’s heart jumped in fear. The chair beneath him cracked, then tipped, and Osiris hit the floor on one knee with one hand braced down, his whole body trembling so hard it looked as if something inside him was trying to rip its way out.

At the center of his back, beneath the torn cloth and heated skin, a mark suddenly flared.

It burned bright.

Too bright.

The shape of it spread under his skin like a living thing, and the moment it lit up, fire began forcing itself from his body in violent bursts.

"Osiris!" Isabella cried out.

She was already on her feet before anyone could stop her.

That alone made Cyrus’s heart nearly stop, because his first instinct was never to let his pregnant mate run toward danger like that. Still, what happened next moved too fast for even him to control in the first breath.

Osiris screamed again.

This time flames burst higher, wild and furious and completely unlike the ordinary fire he used carelessly in daily life. These flames were wrong. They rose with pain inside them, and every time they burst from his body, the air around him twisted so violently that the wooden edges of the room nearest him began blackening at once.

Zyran moved first.

His lazy boredom vanished instantly.

Shadow rushed from beneath him in a dark wave, sliding over the floor and rising around Osiris like a living wall. It wrapped around the fire in twisting bands, and where the flames tried to spread, the shadows closed around them with brutal force.

"Hold still," Zyran snapped.

Osiris could not.

His whole body was convulsing with the force of it.

At the same time, Cyrus’s lower body transformed without hesitation. His great red python tail surged out and around them in one swift motion, coiling in a massive ring that blocked the heat from racing toward the rest of the house. The scales along his body caught the firelight in harsh red flashes, and he wrapped himself around the space like a living barrier.

Kian was already beside Isabella.

His hand locked around her arm first, then around her waist, dragging her back from the dangerous heat before she could step too close. Even then, Isabella kept fighting to move toward Osiris, because seeing him like that made something in her chest twist painfully.

"Let me go," she said.

Kian’s jaw tightened. "You’re staying back."

At that exact moment, Bubu’s voice exploded inside her head.

{Warning! Warning! Strange sacrificial trigger detected!}

Isabella’s eyes widened.

"Bubu, what is that?"

{Analyzing! Analyzing! The mark is not a normal slave brand! It carries ritual links! First City! First City! Sacrificial call pattern detected!}

The system’s voice was shrill with panic in a way that made Isabella’s scalp prickle.

{This is bad! This is very bad! The brand is reacting to a pull from outside! It is trying to wake old sacrifice pathways!}

Osiris let out another broken scream.

His hands clawed into the floor so deeply that his nails split the stone surface.

The fire around him rose even higher.

For one moment, it looked as if the shadows would fail, but Zyran’s eyes turned darker at once, and more shadow poured out from him with vicious force. The darkness wrapped around the flames again and again, swallowing what it could, cutting the rest off before it reached the walls.

Still, even Zyran was beginning to sweat.

"Whatever this is," he said through gritted teeth, "it doesn’t want to stay quiet."

Cyrus’s coils tightened around the entire space. His eyes had turned cold, truly cold, and the protective instinct in him had become so strong that Isabella could feel it like another living thing in the room. He had placed his whole body between Osiris’s flames and the rest of the house. If one spark slipped past Zyran’s shadows, it would hit Cyrus first.

And yet, even like that, his eyes kept turning toward Isabella every second, checking her, making sure not one bit of heat touched her skin.

Osiris’s head suddenly snapped back.

Then his whole body went still.

Too still.