The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 509: I was already choosing the color of your memorial shrine

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Chapter 509: Chapter 509: I was already choosing the color of your memorial shrine

Isabella’s breath was still unsteady as she crouched there, fingers throbbing, the Ashvine Root glowing faintly in her palms. The thing felt heavier now that it was out of the bone — like it carried the last heartbeat of the ancient beast whose spine it clung to. Every pulse made her fingertips tingle.

Glimora clung to Isabella’s arm, tail curled tight like she wanted to glue herself to her mama forever. "Pip..." she whimpered, sniffing the root suspiciously.

"It’s okay," Isabella murmured softly, stroking her head. "It’s ours now."

She didn’t realize the wind spirit had slowly drifted closer until it hovered right next to her face, staring down at the glowing root with wide eyes.

"...you didn’t die," it whispered dramatically.

"Thanks for the faith," Isabella muttered.

"I was already choosing the color of your memorial shrine."

"Get away from me."

"No."

Before she could shove the tiny creature aside, the wind spirit threw her arms open in a dramatic sigh. "Isabella, you are alive. You survived. You crawled, you bled, you suffered. And now—NOW—I, your loyal wind spirit, deserve a reward."

Isabella blinked slowly. "...I literally didn’t ask you to do anything."

"You asked me to EXIST during your suffering," the wind spirit said in righteous indignation. "That counts."

Osiris snorted under his breath.

Isabella whipped her head toward him. "Did you say something?"

He lifted his chin, stoic as always. "No."

"You laughed."

"I didn’t."

"You did."

Osiris gave her that infuriatingly neutral stare — the one that pretended nothing fazed him but also made him look weirdly soft around the edges. A glance flickered toward her hands, toward the way she cradled the glowing root, and something tightened in his expression.

Something protective.

Something he refused to admit.

Isabella’s breath caught for half a second, and she immediately glared to cover it. "What are you staring at now?"

Osiris cleared his throat and looked away. "Nothing. You... finished."

Her eyebrow twitched. "Yes. That was the point."

"...Good."

She scowled. "You’re annoying."

"And you are loud."

Glimora slapped his knee with her tiny paw.

"Pip!"

Osiris blinked. "...Did the beast just hit me?"

"She’s expressing her correct opinion of you," Isabella said calmly.

Glimora lifted her paw again, ready for a second slap.

Isabella gently caught her wrist. "No more violence, sweetheart."

"Pip."

Osiris scoffed. "You encourage her."

"She has taste."

"Hmm."

But he didn’t argue further.

He only watched her carefully, too carefully, as she shifted the Ashvine Root in her hands, grimacing as the light stung her raw fingertips. He noticed every wince. Every tremor. Every inhale she tried to hide with a stubborn lift of her chin.

And he hated it.

Hated that he noticed.

Hated that he cared.

He crossed his arms tightly to keep his hands from doing something stupid, like reaching for her.

She stood slowly.

Her legs were shaky.

He noticed that too.

The protective instinct crawling up his spine flared like a trapped fire — primal, beast-born, instinctive. A voice deep in his blood urging him to step closer. To steady her. To put himself between her and the world.

She’s not your mate, he told himself sharply.

She hates you. You hate her.

It doesn’t matter.

Isabella cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders as if nothing hurt. "Alright. Time to put this away."

She lifted her right hand.

The space around her palm shimmered faintly.

Osiris watched with quiet fascination every time she did this. Even though it made no sense to him — no beastman had such magic, no tribe he knew stored items in thin air — Isabella simply slipped her hand into nothingness like she was dipping it into a pocket only she could see.

The shimmering light swallowed her wrist, then her forearm.

She placed the Ashvine Root inside her private storage space with a gentle motion, like someone tucking a newborn into a cradle. When she pulled her hand back out, her skin glowed faintly from the lingering dew magic.

Osiris stared.

He always stared.

He pretended not to, but he always did.

She noticed.

She didn’t comment.

Yet.

Because she had more pressing nightmares to deal with.

The wind spirit zoomed right into her face, arms raised in celebration. "NOW! Where are my nuts?"

Isabella didn’t even blink. "No."

"WHAT—?!"

"You didn’t help."

"I DID! I emotionally supported you and helped you summon the Mountain Dew spirit!"

"You screamed and hid behind Osiris."

"My emotional state needed shelter!"

Isabella turned away.

The wind spirit followed.

"I deserve my reward!"

"You deserve silence."

"I will haunt you."

"Already doing that."

"I will make your hair frizzy."

Isabella gasped. "HOW DARE YOU."

Osiris almost choked trying not to laugh.

Glimora clung to Isabella’s hip protectively. "Pip," she growled at the wind spirit, tiny but fierce.

The spirit ignored her and fluttered dramatically around Isabella’s face. "NUTS. NOW."

Isabella walked forward without responding.

The wind spirit zipped in front of her. "ISABELLA."

She sidestepped left.

It followed.

"ISABELLAAA."

She stepped right.

It followed.

"ISABELLLAAAAA—"

Isabella stopped abruptly.

The wind spirit, mid-flight, crashed into her forehead like a tiny glowing bug.

"Ow!"

"GOOD," Isabella muttered.

The wind spirit rubbed its head. "You’re cruel."

"You’re irritating."

"You’re my master! You owe me!"

"I owe you NOTHING."

"Yes you DO!"

"No, actually I don’t."

Glimora tugged on the bottom of Isabella’s dress. "Pip-pip?"

Isabella sighed, rubbing her temple. "I know, baby... I know."

The wind spirit hovered, fuming. "I’m NEVER leaving your side until I get my nuts."

"Oh?" Isabella said, turning to face her. "So you’re willing to stay now?"

The wind spirit lifted its chin. "Yes. I will stay. Forever. Right here. You’re not escaping me."

"Wonderful," Isabella deadpanned.

Osiris lifted a brow. "You have strange companions."

"Stay out of this."

He raised both brows now. "She is threatening to live in your hair."

"I SAID STAY OUT OF THIS."

The wind spirit huffed. "I’m not leaving. Ever."

Isabella sighed in defeat.

Then she closed her eyes, reached out her hand...

...toward empty space.

The air shimmered.

Her hand disappeared into her space storage.

The wind spirit’s entire body froze.

Everything went silent.