The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts

Isabella had given Kian directions on exactly what she wanted to make a mirror, and while Kian made it, Luca made the wooden frame.

As expected, something that should have taken days took hours.

Kian didn't say a word as she listed the materials she wanted—obsidian, polished until it reflected like still water, with a protective wooden backing that could fold over the front like a shell.

She didn't expect a reaction—not really. Not from him. Maybe a grunt. Maybe nothing at all.

But Kian being Kian stared at her—longer than necessary. His sharp eyes, like flint under ice, didn't narrow or widen. They just watched.

The thick hide skirt shifted against his legs with every step, the weight of it heavy, rough, and worn. His long strides moved without sound, each one measured and final—like the decision he'd just made.

He didn't speak. He didn't look back.

And somehow, that silence felt colder than any blade he could've drawn.

Luca blinked. "You… want a mirror?"

"I want something useful and pretty," Isabella replied sweetly, hands on her hips. "I've had enough of reflecting on life without being able to reflect my face."

"I think your face looks fine," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" He darted off toward the trees before she could add more verbal bruises to his ego.

—

Kian was already at the cave mouth, crouched low and brushing his fingers over the glassy surface of an obsidian vein embedded in the rock. Light glinted across the stone like frozen ink. He didn't need help—he never did—but that didn't stop Isabella from sitting cross-legged on a boulder nearby and watching with narrowed eyes.

He moved like someone who had done this before, chipping at the obsidian with a sharpened piece of bone. His clawed hands were unnaturally precise, applying just enough force to fracture without shattering. Shards fell in clean, curved flakes, piling around his legs like black petals. Every so often, he'd tilt his head, evaluating the surface as if he saw something she didn't.

"You're not planning to flake off your fingers too, are you?" Isabella called out, lips curling into a grin.

Kian didn't even glance her way. "Keep quite. You're distracting."

"And yet here I am—alive, loud, and with all my fingers."

He ignored that. His focus was a blade.

After breaking off a thick slab the size of her face, he knelt and began smoothing it. He didn't waste time with tools—he used his claws, slow and controlled, scraping over the surface to remove imperfections. The sound was low, like stone whispering against bone. When it was time to polish, he scooped fine sand from a nearby patch and mixed it with animal oil, creating a thick, gritty paste. With a piece of hide wrapped around his palm, he buffed in tight circles, arms flexing with each pass.

The process should have taken days. But Kian was not human.

Each movement was efficient, mechanical. His tanned skin gleamed with sweat under the afternoon sun, but he never paused, never complained.

His tanned skin gleamed faintly beneath the fading light, the last streaks of gold brushing over his shoulders. The air had cooled, but he never paused, never complained.

And when the paste dried or dulled, he added more—sand, oil, a little blood from where his knuckle scraped. He didn't flinch.

He only paused once.

Isabella had gotten too close, reaching to brush her fingers against the unfinished mirror.

"Don't," he snapped, grabbing her wrist mid-air. His voice was low, cold, and final.

She raised a brow. "Are you afraid I'll ruin it?"

"I'm afraid you'll slice your hand open like an idiot."

"Well, thanks for your concern, Your Frostiness."

His fingers loosened, but they didn't pull away immediately.

When they did, she stepped back with a smirk, ignoring how warm her wrist still felt.

—

Meanwhile, Luca was having his own struggle—with wood.

He'd dragged in a thick slab of bark, hacking at it with a curved bone blade. Despite being a seasoned warrior, carpentry was not his forte. Sweat glistened on his bare chest as he crouched beneath the tree, tongue caught between his teeth in focus, muscles flexing each time he carved deeper into the wood base for the mirror.

Isabella peeked over his shoulder, arms crossed. "That doesn't look even."

"It's not done yet!"

She squinted. "It looks like something a three-year-old would make with a rock and a tantrum."

"It's functional!"

"It's sad."

Luca groaned. "You're really committed to making this difficult, aren't you?"

"Oh, don't be dramatic. You've survived three beast duels, a snake pit, and Kian's glares. You'll live through my commentary."

He snorted, then smiled despite himself. "You're lucky I like you."

"I know."

Still, he kept working, carving the wood into a frame that could cradle the obsidian like a jewel. He used softened bark for padding, strips of sinew to bind the edges, and even added a hinge-like function using coiled vines and knots. It wasn't perfect, but it was clever. Clever enough that Isabella stopped teasing and started watching in silence, her arms slowly dropping to her sides.

"You're getting better at this," she murmured.

"Don't sound so surprised."

"I'm always surprised when a man listens to instructions."

Luca almost dropped the wood.

—

Back in the cave, Kian had finished polishing.

The obsidian no longer looked like rock—it looked like water trapped in a solid form. A mirror. A real one. Smooth, reflective, and dark as night. It shimmered under the sunbeams sneaking through the cave's ceiling cracks. It was beautiful in a haunting way. Cold, sharp, and precise—just like him.

He stood, walking toward where Luca had finished the wooden frame. Their eyes met briefly, one nod exchanged between them—acknowledgment, not camaraderie.

The obsidian slid into the frame perfectly. It fit like it had been born for it.

Kian wrapped it shut with a strip of cured hide, tying it off with a knot so tight only claws or a knife could undo it. Not one word spoken.

He looked over his shoulder.

Isabella was still sitting on the boulder, watching with narrowed eyes.

Their reaction was actually cute, she couldn't help but giggle. Actually it was Luca's reaction in particular that was so funny.