Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband-Chapter 49: The Open Door

The heavy coral doors clicked shut behind the Queen Dowager, sealing the silence back inside the room. But the air still vibrated with the echoes of Caspian’s scream.

So that’s what happened, I thought, my heart aching in my chest until it felt like it might bruise.

It wasn’t a tragic romance. It wasn’t a poetic "Beauty and the Beast" curse where the King lost his true love. It was a crime. A violation.

I looked at Caspian. The terrifying Merman King was floating with his back to us, his broad shoulders hunched, his hands gripping the edge of a stone table so hard I heard the rock fracturing under his claws. He wasn’t shaking with rage anymore. He was shaking with shame.

I looked down at Orion. The little Prince was wide-eyed, clutching his tail, confused and frightened by the adult fury he had just witnessed.

"Orion," I whispered, kneeling down to his eye level. "Hey, little star. Why don’t you go to the kitchen? Crustar promised to show you how to peel a sea-grape without squishing it."

"But... Dad is sad," Orion whispered, looking at his father’s back.

"I know," I said gently, smoothing his pearlescent hair. "I’m going to talk to him. Adult talk. Go on, okay? Save me a grape."

Orion hesitated, then nodded. He swam slowly out of the room, looking back once before disappearing into the hallway.

I waited until the door closed. Then I turned to the King.

I swam closer, but I stopped a few feet away. I didn’t touch him this time. I sensed he felt too raw for contact, like a wound that had been ripped open after twenty-five years.

"Caspian," I said softly. "I had no idea you—"

"If you want to leave," Caspian cut me off.

My breath hitched. His voice was unrecognizable. It wasn’t the melodic bass of the King. It was flat, hollow, and incredibly tired.

He didn’t turn around. He couldn’t look at me. He had spent two decades building a mask of ice and power, and in five minutes, he had shattered it in front of the only person whose opinion actually mattered to him.

"You can go," Caspian rasped.

He let go of the table. He turned slowly to face me. His teal eyes were dull, stripped of their bioluminescent glow. He looked less like a monster and more like a ghost.

"I lied about the currents," he admitted, staring at the floor. "And the array. I blocked the signal myself. I kept you here because... because I was selfish. Because I was lonely."

He laughed, a dry, broken sound that hurt to hear.

"I am just like her, aren’t I? Forcing someone to stay against their will. Trapping them in a life they didn’t choose."

He waved his hand toward the balcony, toward the vast, dark ocean outside.

"The interference field is down. You can send your message. You can call your Warlords. I will provide a royal escort to the surface."

He looked at me then, and the misery in his eyes was bottomless.

"I am sorry, Primrose. For keeping you here. You are free."

Silence stretched between us.

I looked at the open balcony. I looked at the path that led home—to the bakery, to the cubs, to the sun, to Rurik and the others who were probably tearing the world apart looking for me.

I wanted to go. I missed dry land. I missed ingredients that didn’t wiggle. I missed oxygen that I didn’t have to swallow in a pearl.

But then I looked at Caspian.

I saw the architect from Seoul who had lost everything. I saw the father trying to love a son who reminded him of his trauma. I saw a man who had been drowning for twenty-five years, who had finally reached out a hand, only to slap it away because he felt unworthy of the rescue.

I couldn’t leave him like this. Not yet.

"Of course I wanted to leave," I said honestly, crossing my arms. "I have a daycare to run. I have bills to pay. And I really, really miss bread that isn’t soggy."

Caspian flinched, nodding as if he expected nothing less. "Go, then. The guards will—"

"But," I interrupted, stepping closer.

I reached out and took his hand. His skin was freezing cold, colder than the ocean around us.

"I believe... there are still some things I can do here before leaving."

Caspian looked at me, confused. "Things? The Prince is eating. The Dowager is gone. What else is there?"

I squeezed his hand, trying to push some of my warmth into him.

"Well, for one," I said, offering him a small, sad smile. "You still haven’t tried my Kimchi Jjigae. And I promised I’d make it."

Caspian blinked, looking bewildered. "Soup?"

"And," I continued, making my voice firmer. "Orion needs to learn about squares. We only did triangles. You can’t leave a kid with incomplete geometry knowledge. That’s irresponsible."

"Primrose..."

"And," I said softly, looking him dead in the eye. "You need a friend, Caspian. Not a Queen. Not a servant. Just a neighbor who knows what it’s like to be lost."

I let go of his hand and floated back a little, giving him space but staying firmly in the room.

"I’m not leaving yet. Not until I know you and Orion are going to be okay. So... you’re stuck with me a little longer, Final Boss."

Caspian stared at me. His chest heaved with a breath he didn’t need.

For the first time in twenty-five years, the crushing weight of the ocean seemed to feel a little lighter on his shoulders.

"Kimchi Jjigae," he whispered, a faint, incredulous smile touching his lips.

"Extra spicy," I promised. "It’ll burn the sadness right out of you."

Caspian stared at me. The teal light in his eyes wavered, looking watery and dangerously human. He looked like a man who had been holding his breath for twenty-five years and had just been told he was allowed to exhale.

He didn’t speak. He moved.

It wasn’t the slow, drifting float of a King. It was a surge of motion.

Before I could blink, the distance between us vanished. Caspian closed the gap and wrapped his arms around me.

It wasn’t a polite, courtly embrace. It was desperate. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his large webbed hands gripping my back as if he thought I might dissolve into sea foam if he let go.

I froze, my arms hovering awkwardly in the water.

Whoa, my brain short-circuited. The Final Boss is hugging me.

He was freezing cold, his skin like polished marble against my cheek, but the sheer intensity of his hold was overwhelming. I could feel the thudding of his two hearts against his chest—thump-thump, thump-thump—beating a frantic rhythm against my own.

He smelled of ozone and deep-sea salt, and for a moment, he just held me there, suspended in the silent water, using me as an anchor.

"Thank you," he breathed against my skin, his voice trembling. "Primrose. Thank you."

The raw vulnerability in his voice sent a jolt of heat straight to my face. I could feel the blush rising, turning my cheeks a violent shade of red that I prayed the bioluminescent lighting would hide.

I slowly wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders. He was huge. Terrifying. And shaking like a leaf.

"It’s okay," I whispered, patting his back awkwardly. "I got you, neighbor."

We stayed like that for a long moment, the currents drifting around us.

Then, the reality of the situation kicked in. I am hugging a shirtless Merman King who kidnapped me.

I cleared my throat, gently pushing against his chest.

"Okay," I squeaked. "Personal space. You’re getting my dress wet. Well, wetter."

Caspian pulled back immediately, though his hands lingered on my upper arms. He looked down at me, and for the first time, his eyes weren’t sad. They were bright. Intense. And focused entirely on my flushing face.

"I apologize," he said, though he didn’t look sorry at all. "I... lost my composure."

I fanned my face with my hand, trying to cool down the blush.

"Yeah, well," I muttered, looking anywhere but at his abs. "Don’t think this gets you off the hook, Mister Architect. That was a nice hug, but I am still mad at you."

Caspian tilted his head, a faint smirk returning to his lips. "Mad?"

"Furious," I corrected, crossing my arms to hide how fast my heart was beating. "You kept me here against my will. You lied about the Wi-Fi. Do you know how stressful it is to think your friends are bombing the ocean because of you?"

Caspian winced slightly. "I admitted it was... selfish."

"It was criminal," I poked him in the chest. "Kidnapping is a felony in Seoul, you know. And probably here, too."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"So," I said, looking up into those impossible teal eyes. "How are you going to repay me? Because my hourly rate for ’Therapist/Nanny/Hostage’ is extremely high."

Caspian looked at me. He drifted closer again, the water rippling around us.

"Name your price," he whispered, his voice dropping to that low, vibrating register. "Gold? Pearls? Magic? I possess the wealth of the Seven Trenches. I will give you anything you desire."

He looked like he meant it. He looked like he would drain the ocean dry if I asked for a glass of water.

I swallowed hard.

"Let’s start small," I said, my voice breathless. "Fix the Communications Array. Let me send a letter to the surface."

"Done," Caspian said instantly.

"And," I added, "I want access to the Royal Library. The real one. If I’m staying, I want to learn the history. Not the game lore. The truth."

Caspian smiled. It was soft, dangerous, and devastatingly handsome.

"The Library is yours," he promised. "Is that all?"

I looked at his lips, then quickly back to his eyes.

"For now," I said. "But I’m keeping a tab. Don’t forget it."

"I would never," Caspian murmured, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips. He kissed my knuckles—a gesture that was half-King, half-suitor.

"I always pay my debts, Chef."