The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 623: If you cry again because of them, I will double their patrol shifts
Osiris let out a sharp yelp and jumped backward, almost tripping over a child who had been hiding behind a barrel to watch. He scrambled up and bolted.
"Help," he shouted. "I did nothing. Isabella, tell them to stop. Isabella."
She sniffed again and folded her arms.
"Do not run too far," she called. "If you die in the snow, I will be short one extra worker."
Her voice had regained some strength.
Cyrus and Zyran chased Osiris around the inner yard. The phoenix was fast, even with sealed powers, but he was also an idiot. He kept turning his head to argue, which slowed him down.
"You two are crazy," he yelled. "It was just a joke."
"You insulted our pregnant female," Zyran answered. "That is a sin punishable by at least three bruises."
Cyrus did not say anything. His silence was worse.
The children laughed and screamed as the three males ran circles around them, jumping over barrels and dodging piles of wood. A few women watched from the sewing room entrance, hands over their mouths.
"Should we stop them," one asked.
"Let them," an older woman replied. "This is good practice for the bird."
Kian also came when he heard the noise.
He took in the scene quickly. Osiris running like his life depended on it. Zyran grinning like a demon. Cyrus looking more serious than ever. Isabella standing by the table, wiping her eyes, her shoulders still tense.
He weighed what needed him most.
The three males were strong. They would not actually kill each other. They needed to burn off this energy.
Isabella, on the other hand, was still blinking away tears.
He walked past the running idiots without a word, stepping between Cyrus and Zyran at just the right time so that they veered off instead of crashing into him.
Osiris tried to hide behind him.
"Kian, you are the king," he babbled. "Tell them to stop. They are abusing a phoenix. It is a crime."
Kian ignored him and continued toward Isabella.
Osiris gaped.
"Are you all crazy today," he muttered, then yelped again as Zyran lunged.
Kian stopped in front of Isabella.
She had rubbed her eyes until they turned slightly red. Her nose was pink from cold and emotion. She still looked annoyed, but there was a fragile edge under it.
He did not have many gentle words.
Instead, he reached out and placed a large warm hand on her hair, resting it there lightly.
"Do not listen to him," he said, voice calm. "He has too much air in his head. You are carrying children in you and leading a village. That is not something a rabbit can do."
Her throat tightened again, but this time not from hurt.
"He is really stupid," she complained softly. "He always says things without thinking. I know I am bigger now. I know I cannot move like before. I do not need him to say it like that."
Kian’s fingers moved slowly, almost awkwardly, stroking down once.
"In my eyes, you have become stronger," he said. "Not weaker. Your body changes because you grow new life. That is a power none of us have. If anyone speaks lightly about that, he is the weak one."
Isabella snorted, but the sound was half a laugh.
"He said my ankles are like tree trunks," she muttered.
Kian glanced down.
Her ankles were indeed swollen, wrapped in warm fur, but to him they looked like proof that she had not stopped moving for herself and her people.
"If you do not like it," he said, "we can make him soak his own ankles in ice water until they swell. Then you can call him a rabbit."
The picture made her smile, finally.
"Do not tempt me," she replied. "I might really do it."
Behind them, Osiris screamed again as Cyrus’s hand finally caught the back of his collar.
The phoenix flailed. Zyran pounced from the side. The three of them disappeared into the snow in a tangle of limbs.
The villagers laughed.
Isabella took a slow breath, her chest easing.
Her tears had dried. Her heart still felt a little sore, but Kian’s words had soothed a part of her she had not known needed soothing.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Kian looked away, ears slightly pink in the cold.
"It is nothing," he answered. "If you cry again because of them, I will double their patrol shifts."
She smiled wider.
"You are cruel," she said.
"Only to those who deserve it," he replied.
Later that day, when Osiris limped past her with snow in his hair and fresh bruises on his arms, he tried to glare at her.
"You did this," he grumbled.
"You started it," she answered, lifting her chin. "Next time, bully someone your own size."
"You are my own size," he snapped before he could stop himself.
Her eyes narrowed.
He raised both hands.
"I mean spiritually," he corrected quickly. "Spiritually."
She shook her head and walked away.
He watched her go, rubbing a sore shoulder.
He had not meant to hurt her. He had only wanted to provoke a reaction, because when she shouted at him, he felt alive. Now he had learned that some jokes were too sharp for a pregnant heart.
"I will be more careful," he told himself. "Maybe."
That night, while Osiris lay groaning by the fire and Cyrus massaged Isabella’s feet like they were priceless jade, Zyran slipped out of the village.
He did not tell anyone.
Their world outside the village had not stopped moving. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎
The underworld he came from still existed, full of gods and old spirits who argued about fate and rules. The big cities nearby, like First City and Fifth City, still plotted and traded, sending hunters and spies through forests.
Zyran moved like a shadow across the snow, his black cloak blending into the night.
Sometimes he went to the edge of big cities and watched from the rooftops. He listened to traders talk about a lion tribe that had become stronger.
