The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts

Ophelia froze.

The color left her face so fast that even Luca, who had only been half paying attention a moment ago, immediately straightened and looked at her properly. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the cloth still in her hand, and her eyes widened slowly as the memory returned with cruel perfect timing.

She had left.

Only for a moment.

Only to get the cloth.

But she had still left.

And the person she had left alone near Isabella’s food had been Mira.

Or whatever that woman truly was.

Cyrus saw the answer on Ophelia’s face before she even managed to speak.

That was enough.

He did not wait.

He did not ask again.

He did not need another word.

One moment he was seated beside Isabella with the spoon still in his hand, his face cold in that frightening snake way of his, and the next moment the whole room exploded.

The table flipped first.

Wood cracked hard against the stone floor as Cyrus moved, and bowls, cups, and plates scattered in every direction. Hot broth splashed, meat hit the floor, and one poor little side dish Luca had arranged with more care than he would ever admit flew straight across the room and landed against the wall in a truly tragic way.

Then Cyrus transformed.

It happened with brutal speed.

His lower body surged into the open in a wave of red scales and violent force, huge and heavy and terrifying in a way that made the whole room suddenly feel too small to survive him. His great python tail lashed once, smashing one of the lower stools into splinters, and before Zara could even step back, the thick coils of it had already caught her.

They caught her around the waist first.

Then higher.

Then tighter.

Zara screamed.

He seized her like a beast catching something that had already crossed the line from enemy to prey.

"You dare harm my mate?" he snarled.

The sound of his voice barely sounded like Cyrus anymore.

Usually his voice was warm and soft, patient even when tired. Now it had dropped into something raw and murderous, something so full of protective rage that even the air in the room seemed to shake around it.

Zara clawed at the red scales around her desperately.

Her feet left the floor.

The pressure around her ribs tightened further, and her eyes widened in pure animal fear because she understood immediately that this was no threat.

He was actually going to kill her.

The room changed all at once.

Kian rose so fast that his chair nearly fell.

His cold lion eyes sharpened at once, and the killing intent in them settled like a blade. If Cyrus crushed her, Kian would not stop him. If anything, part of him looked ready to finish what the snake started and tear the rest of her apart with his own hands if needed.

Zyran moved too.

Darkness gathered around his fingers immediately, that strange black power of his curling and twisting like living smoke around his hand.

His face had lost every bit of playful shamelessness now. The smile was gone. The lazy teasing prince was gone.

What remained was something much older and crueler, and the way that dark power swirled around his fingertips made it very clear that if Isabella had taken even one sip, Zara’s death would have become ugly in a way no one in this room would ever forget.

Osiris was half a breath slower than the others only because confusion hit first.

Then the meaning reached him fully.

Poison.

The food.

Isabella.

At once, the heat around him surged. His eyes brightened with that phoenix fire again, and he took one step forward with murder written all over his face. In truth, Osiris did not even care about asking questions anymore. The moment he understood that someone had dared poison Isabella, every thought inside him became very simple.

Burn her.

That was all.

Luca swore under his breath and shoved Ophelia behind him by instinct, while Asael moved at the same time from the other side and placed himself in front of Shelia with one hand already at his weapon. Neither one of them needed to be told that this room had just become dangerous.

Valen was already pulling Ophelia back too.

She had gone white.

Actually white.

She was staring at Zara in Cyrus’s coils like she could no longer match the healer she had spoken to with the thing hanging in the air before her now. Her heart was pounding so hard that she felt dizzy. Did she really poison the food? Did she truly leave Isabella’s bowl alone with a woman like that? The guilt hit so hard that it almost took her knees out from under her.

Shelia saw it and grabbed her arm at once.

"Stand still," Shelia said sharply.

Her own face was cold now too.

She had suspected this woman for a while, and part of her was furious that she had been right in such an ugly way. But seeing Ophelia’s face made her shove that aside for later, because right now the poor thing looked seconds away from crying from guilt and shock together.

Glimora had the funniest reaction of all.

At first, the little white beast only stared.

Then her round eyes grew huge.

Then her entire expression changed into something that very clearly said, "This bitch tried to poison my mother."

She jumped up at once and started growling at Zara with all the fury her small body could hold. Her little fangs were out, her fur had puffed up around her neck, and she looked so sincerely enraged that if the situation were not so terrifying, it might have looked ridiculous.

In her little beast head, the matter was already extremely clear.

The soup had been meant for Isabella.

If Isabella did not eat it, then maybe Glimora would have stolen a little later.

Which meant this evil creature had not only tried to kill Isabella, she had also nearly killed Glimora herself.

Unforgivable.

So the little beast paced in tiny furious steps below Zara, growling and snapping like a much bigger predator trapped in a much smaller body.

Cyrus’s tail tightened again.

Zara let out a choked sound.

The pressure made her whole body shake, and for one brief, ugly second she thought she could hear something in her own ribs beginning to strain. Her hands slapped weakly against the coils, her feet kicked uselessly in the air, and panic took over so fully that the soft healer face finally cracked.

"No," she gasped. "No, no, no!"

Her voice came out broken now.

This was because she truly had not expected this.

She had thought the poison would work later.

In twenty-four hours.

She had imagined pain, perhaps weakness, perhaps blood later, perhaps panic after, but not this. She had not expected the snake beastman to sense it this fast, and she had definitely not expected him to turn into this.

Cyrus looked monstrous.

His pink eyes had deepened into something far more dangerous, and the pupils in them had thinned so much that he no longer looked gentle or soft at all. He looked like a great serpent who had found a threat in his nest and meant to crush it into pulp.

At the side, Isabella still had not moved.

She sat there for one breath longer than anyone expected, watching.

Not because she was calm.

No.

Because part of her wanted Zara to feel it.

She wanted her to feel every bit of fear and pain that came from knowing death was truly one breath away. She wanted her to know what it meant to touch something that belonged to Isabella and find out too late that all the beasts around her would rip the world open for her.

So she watched.

She watched Zara’s face go pale with true terror.

She watched Cyrus tighten his coils.

She watched Kian take one step closer with murder in his eyes.

She watched Zyran’s black magic curl higher around his hand like he was one second from flicking his wrist and turning Zara’s skull into red rain.

Then Kian moved.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

And that was when Zara understood she was about to die.

Not later.

Not maybe.

Now.