The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts

Two guards stepped into the moonlit cave, their faces drawn tight with unease.

Without a word, they dropped to their knees, the sound of their bone ornaments and leather skirts rustling against the stone floor echoing through the suddenly quiet cave.

Isabella blinked. The atmosphere shifted so fast it was almost disorienting. A second ago, she'd been dramatically leaning against Kian, basking in her own beauty, but now—

She raised a brow, one hand resting lazily on her hip as she tilted her head. "Oh?" she muttered, her voice laced with curiosity as she looked at the two men, then slowly turned toward Kian, trying to gauge his expression.

Kian's face had returned to stone. No hint of warmth, no sign of the man who'd just caught her like she was some princess from a dream. His shoulders squared, and even the moonlight seemed colder on his skin. A king, through and through.

"Speak," Kian ordered, his voice crisp and commanding.

The temperature in the cave dipped.

Even Luca, who had been silently judging Isabella a few moments ago, now stood straighter, a faint crease forming between his brows. Gone was the playful energy—he looked like someone ready to rip a man in half.

One of the guards lifted his head slightly. "My king, there are men from the city. They claim to be looking for Isabella."

Isabella's lips curled into a smile, light and teasing, but her fingers subconsciously curled at her side. Her heart had skipped. That name shouldn't have been said out loud. Not here. Not like this.

"Me?" she asked with a faint chuckle, feigning offense. "I'm flattered."

She hoped her voice didn't tremble. She knew how to play it cool. She'd done it all her life.

Kian didn't speak. He was watching her. Reading her. She could feel the weight of his stare brushing her skin like ice. And when he finally turned back to the guards, the cave seemed to hold its breath.

"What city are they from?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.

The second guard, who had kept his head bowed all this while, hesitated before lifting his eyes.

"Fangridge City, my king."

The name echoed through the cave.

Luca audibly gasped. "No way."

Kian's brows furrowed.

Isabella froze.

The name meant nothing to her. Fangridge? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Her smile twitched, faltered, but she quickly forced it back, stepping forward with mock confusion.

"What? What is it?" she asked, scanning their faces. Everyone looked tense—way too tense. "What the fuck is it for gods' sake?"

Luca turned to her slowly, expression caught somewhere between disbelief and horror. "Isabella, how—how can you not know of the biggest city ever?"

He stared at her like she'd just grown a second head. It made her want to slap him. Or throw a pebble at his eye.

She glared back, jaw tightening. "Why would I know every city on the map, Luca?"

"Fangridge isn't just any city," Luca said, eyes wide. "It's the heart of every tribe. Everyone knows it—if something happens there, it echoes everywhere!"

She opened her mouth to argue, but Kian's calm voice interrupted her.

"Have you ever visited there?" he asked.

His tone was even, but his eyes were not. They burned, quietly, like he was trying to see straight into her soul.

Before Isabella could even part her lips, Luca's voice piped up with zero hesitation.

"Of course she has. If not, how else would we explain the luxurious materials she's always wearing?" he muttered under his breath, which would've been harmless—except everyone heard it.

The cave went still.

Kian's blue eyes snapped to Luca with a look that could curdle blood.

Luca gulped audibly, his shoulders going stiff like a boy caught stealing from the fruit pile. "I mean—I was just saying—"

But Kian had already turned back to Isabella, eyes expectant, expression unreadable.

Isabella, however, had a spark of mischief in her gaze.

She tilted her chin up, all confidence and mischief, as if the silence was a stage made just for her. "Of course I've been there," she said smoothly.

Luca squinted at her. Kian remained stone-faced.

Then a wicked grin curled on Isabella's lips. Something chaotic sparked behind her eyes.

She leaned forward, hands dramatically pressed to her chest like a theater actress delivering her final monologue.

"The king of Fangridge... was my mate."

Dead silence.

Both guards' jaws dropped in unison. Luca stopped breathing. Even Bubu, who had been silent all along suddenly appeared and started floating.

Only Kian remained still, arms folded, face like a frozen lake. Not even a twitch.

The silence was delicious. Isabella soaked it in like sun on her skin.

"Oh, he loved me madly," she said, tossing her blonde hair. "Begged me to stay. Would've given me the city. But…" she sighed with mock melancholy, "I couldn't stand his bad teeth. Crooked like a rat's."

Someone actually choked.

Then she laughed, tossing her head back dramatically. "Fine, fine—I haven't been there." She flicked a glance at Kian, whose eyes were now narrowed, unamused. "Tough crowd tonight," she mumbled, smirking.

"I almost believed her," the guard on the right muttered to his partner.

"Yeah, same," the other one replied under his breath.

Kian's voice cut through the air, cold and sharp. "Where are they right now?"

"Just outside the palace, my king," the guard answered, still on one knee.

Kian gave a single nod, then bent to retrieve the mirror Isabella had been swooning over moments ago. Without a word, he handed it to the nearest guard with surprising care.

"Take this. Handle it like it's your own child."

The guard nodded seriously, as if he'd been entrusted with sacred treasure.

"Ohhh, I am such a beauty," Isabella announced again, admiring herself in the reflective surface one last time before it was taken away. She gave her reflection a little air kiss.

Kian slowly turned his head to give her the look—the one that said how are you still alive?

She just grinned like a madwoman.

"Let's go see your visitors," Kian said dryly and strode forward. But halfway across the moonlit cave, he paused and stretched out his hand behind him.

Isabella lit up instantly. "Oh Kian," she said sweetly, slipping her hand into his like a lovestruck deer.

Her expression turned dreamy, eyes fluttering like she was mid-romance novel. Her thoughts screamed, I'll have your babies, don't worry.

Kian sighed again, but a faint, helpless smile tugged at the edge of his lips. Just barely.

Luca, walking a few steps behind, shook his head and muttered under his breath, "Gods help us all."

"Anyways…" Bubu started still floating in the air.

Isabella rolled her eyes without even looking back, still walking beside Kian with her hand clasped in his like she was royalty.