The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 578: It’s only fair. Hard-working males deserve rewards
The stone room was warm. A faint scent of herbs drifted in from the window, mixing with the clean smell of crushed leaves Cyrus used to wash the bedding.
Isabella had already bathed. Her hair was still damp, sticking softly to her cheeks as she sat on the fur-covered bed.
Cyrus walked toward her with quiet steps. The dim firelight made his shadow fall across her stomach. His eyes softened immediately.
Her belly had grown again.
Cyrus knelt beside the bed, his tall frame bending gently as he placed one large hand across her stomach. His cold palm made Isabella inhale sharply.
"It’s grown more," Cyrus said in a low voice. "I think you will give birth to a my hatchlings and a female."
Isabella blinked. "Really?"
"Yes." Cyrus rubbed her belly slowly, careful not to press too hard. "It has been over a month. And you are still growing steadily. It doesn’t look like you will give birth soon."
Isabella placed her own hand over his. "I thought it would be soon."
"No." Cyrus shook his head. "Your belly is round and healthy. The hatchlings are strong."
Isabella lowered her gaze to her stomach. The curve was obvious now. A strange warmth filled her chest. "That sounds nice."
Cyrus smiled faintly. "They will be beautiful."
"Because of me?" Isabella teased.
Cyrus nodded without hesitation. "Of course. They take after you."
Isabella’s cheeks warmed. She lightly pushed his shoulder. "You’re so dramatic."
"I’m speaking the truth." 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦
Cyrus leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against her stomach. Isabella stiffened, then relaxed slowly. His hair brushed her skin, tickling her. She let out a quiet laugh.
"Stop. That feels weird."
"It’s for the hatchlings," Cyrus replied seriously.
Isabella rolled her eyes, but she didn’t stop him. His gentle touch made her heart feel strangely full.
Just as the room grew peaceful and warm—
BANG.
The stone door flew open.
"Isabella!" Zyran shouted as he burst inside. "Can I sleep here tonight?"
Isabella nearly jumped off the bed. "Why?!"
Zyran stomped inside dramatically, his fur cloak dragging on the floor. "I promise I’m not trying to cause trouble. I just think there is a monster in my room. Something big. It growled at me."
Isabella stared at him expressionlessly. "Zyran, you are the monster. The monster is scared of you. Get out."
"No!" Zyran rushed to the bed and grabbed onto the side like a stubborn child. "Please. I’m injured emotionally. And physically. And mentally. I need comfort."
Cyrus looked at him calmly. His expression said clearly: You are a grown male. Get a grip.
Zyran ignored him entirely.
"I’m serious!" he insisted. "Besides, if we become mates in the future, I must start sleeping here sometimes. Who else will take care of you? Who will warm you at night? Who will—"
Cyrus finally spoke. "What am I? A Stone?"
Zyran waved a hand. "You don’t count. You already get to sleep here."
Isabella rubbed her forehead. "Zyran, you’re impossible."
Zyran placed one hand dramatically over his chest. "So you’ll let me stay?"
"No," Isabella said immediately.
Zyran let out a long, pitiful groan. "Isabella... I’m lonely. Luca and Asael are always whispering to each other. Kian is cold. Cyrus throws me out if I breathe too loud. I have nowhere to go."
Cyrus glanced away, pretending he didn’t hear that.
Zyran continued dramatically, "Even Osiris locked his door today. I am a homeless male. My suffering is real."
Isabella hesitated. His tone was pathetic. His shoulders drooped. For once he didn’t look smug or smiling. Just tired.
Cyrus watched her face carefully. "I don’t mind," he said quietly. "If he sleeps on the floor."
Zyran’s head shot up. "Really? You allow it?"
Cyrus nodded. "But the floor only."
Zyran cheered loudly. "I accept!"
Isabella sighed loudly. "Fine. But listen carefully—"
"I’m listening!" Zyran straightened like he was about to receive battle orders.
"You will always sleep on the floor. Always. I don’t want to see you near this bed."
Zyran nodded rapidly. "Of course. I like floors. Floors are comfortable. Floors are reliable. Floors never betray me."
Cyrus gave him one single unimpressed look.
Zyran cleared his throat. "Ahem... but yes. Floor. Good."
He grabbed a large fur from the corner and spread it on the ground beside the wall. He lay down dramatically, as though performing for an audience, then turned to face the bed.
Cyrus helped Isabella lie down properly. He pulled the fur blanket over her and tucked her hair behind her ear. His movements were gentle and quiet.
Zyran watched them with wide eyes.
Isabella nestled against Cyrus’s chest. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Cyrus whispered, pressing a kiss against her forehead.
Zyran stared resentfully at the ceiling. "...So unfair."
He curled up on his fur, tail flicking irritably.
But after a moment, he smirked to himself, eyes narrowing with determination.
After Isabella gives birth, he thought, I’m next. I will definitely become her mate.
The fire crackled softly.
Cyrus wrapped his arms around Isabella.
Zyran finally closed his eyes.
...
When Isabella opened her eyes the next morning, the sunlight had barely reached the stone windows. She was still half-asleep, her hair messy, her body warm from Cyrus’s embrace.
Before she could stretch, something cold touched her cheek.
She opened one eye.
Zyran was standing beside the bed with a large stone bowl in his hands.
"Good morning," he said proudly. "I brought breakfast."
Isabella stared at him. Her face was blank. "...Cyrus?"
Zyran stood straighter. "Cyrus is busy."
She didn’t believe him. Cyrus was never too busy for breakfast. But Isabella was too tired to argue, so she rubbed her eyes and pushed herself up.
Glimora crawled across the blanket, tail wagging lazily. She curled against Isabella’s thigh and yawned loudly.
Isabella picked up the stone spoon. "Fine. Give it to me."
Zyran’s eyes brightened immediately. He placed the bowl on her lap like he was presenting treasure to a queen.
Inside was warm stew mixed with crushed herbs and bits of meat. It smelled good. Isabella took a sip.
Zyran watched her with shining eyes, hands clasped behind his back like an obedient beast... which meant he was definitely hiding something.
"You cooked this?" Isabella asked suspiciously.
"Yes," Zyran said proudly. "I helped. Cyrus did the rest."
So Cyrus was involved. Isabella nodded and continued eating. The warmth spread through her chest, calming her sleepiness.
Grimora licked the edge of the bowl, trying to steal a bite. Isabella swatted her gently. "Stop. It’s mine."
Zyran laughed. "You look cute when you’re grumpy."
Isabella glared at him. "Zyran. Don’t start."
"I’m not starting," Zyran said. His tail swayed behind him. "I’m just thinking... if I bring you breakfast every morning, maybe you’ll start looking at me the way you look at Cyrus."
Isabella choked on her stew.
Zyran leaned closer, smiling shamelessly. "It’s only fair. Hard-working males deserve rewards."
Isabella lifted the spoon slowly.
Her expression turned dangerous.
