The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 662: I leave for one outing, bring fruit back with love and effort, and this is how I am treated?
It was not long after that when Osiris returned.
Isabella was still resting in her room, leaning lazily against the thick furs behind her back while Cyrus sat nearby and Zyran looked as though he was thinking about whether he should peel fruit for her or simply put the whole pouch in her lap and call it a day.
Then the door opened, and Osiris walked in.
The moment Isabella saw his face, she almost laughed.
His earlier anger was gone, but in its place was a pouty expression that made him look exactly like someone who had gone outside to fight, failed to win an argument, and returned with grievances too big for his body.
To put it simply, he looked bullied.
Osiris strode in, stopped in front of Isabella, and said in a deeply aggrieved tone, "He hit me first."
Isabella blinked.
Then she slowly raised her head and looked past him at Zyran, who had followed him in with a face full of innocence that nobody in the room believed.
Isabella was starting to think when Zyran offered to talk to Osiris he might have probably bit him up instead.
Zyran lifted both hands at once. "That is a lie. A very shameless lie. He punched me into a tree."
Osiris immediately pointed at him. "Because you deserved it."
Zyran clicked his tongue. "See? Listen to him. He has no remorse at all."
Isabella looked at Osiris again, then at Zyran, then back at Osiris.
Finally, she said, "Why are you reporting to me like I can beat him for you?"
The room fell silent for one breath.
Then Cyrus lowered his head and smiled.
Zyran turned away because he was very obviously trying not to laugh.
Osiris froze.
His ears turned red first.
Then his neck.
Then his whole face.
"I was not asking you to beat him," he said stiffly.
Isabella looked unconvinced. "Really? Because your face says otherwise. Your face says, ’Isabella, he bullied me, you must avenge me immediately.’"
Zyran finally failed to hold it in and laughed. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂
Osiris swung his head toward him so fast one would think he wanted to burn him alive on the spot.
"Shut up!"
"Then stop looking so wronged," Zyran said, grinning. "You came in here looking like a wife who came to complain that her husband lost an argument outside."
Cyrus coughed softly and turned his face away.
He was definitely laughing too.
Osiris stared at all three of them in disbelief.
To be honest, he had come back with a heavy heart. He had gone outside full of anger, been dragged into a strange serious talk by Zyran who had dared to bully him, and somehow returned feeling worse, better, and even more irritated all at once. He had not expected the moment he walked into the room to become a trial against his dignity.
How hateful.
Meanwhile, Isabella was already laughing.
The more she looked at his expression, the harder it became not to laugh. There was just something too funny about a proud phoenix walking in like a wronged young master who had not won his fight and had come back to seek justice.
"What exactly did Zyran say to you?" she asked, still smiling.
Osiris crossed his arms and looked away. "Nothing useful." There was no way he was telling anyone that Zyran had shamelessly bullied him.
Zyran gave him a side look. "That is also a lie."
Cyrus, who was the only one still behaving like a decent person, softly asked, "Did talking help at all?"
Osiris was quiet for a moment.
Then, in a much lower voice, he muttered, "A little."
Zyran instantly looked smug.
Isabella saw that and rolled her eyes. "Look at your face. If you keep smiling like that, you’ll look even more suspicious than usual."
Zyran sat down casually and leaned against the stone wall. "I cannot help being excellent."
"Who told you that?"
"Myself."
"That explains everything."
Isabella sat between them, wrapped in fur, looking soft and lazy and beautiful, while the males around her made one stupid comment after another.
Cyrus’s gaze drifted to the gentle swell of her belly beneath the furs, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to rest his palm there again, the way he sometimes did when she slept—quiet, possessive, like he still couldn’t quite believe she carried their future. Osiris’s eyes followed the same path a heartbeat later, something softer flickering behind the lingering pout.
For a moment, the room became surprisingly light.
The earlier tension that had pressed on everyone’s chest seemed to have thinned out. Osiris still looked unhappy, but not in that frightening way from before. Cyrus was quiet and warm beside her. Zyran was being annoying as always, but somehow less annoying than usual. Isabella sat between them, wrapped in fur, looking soft and lazy and beautiful, while the males around her made one stupid comment after another.
To be honest, even she had to admit it.
This was nice.
Very nice.
A little ridiculous too, but nice.
Zyran picked up the small pouch of fruit he had brought earlier and placed it beside Isabella. "I found sweet ones."
Isabella looked down and saw several bright little fruits inside. They were clean, round, and fresh, and just looking at them made her feel a little hungry.
So she reached out and took one.
Then another.
Zyran’s tail gave a small, involuntary flick as he watched her lips close around the first fruit, his usual smirk softening into something quieter, warmer. He shifted closer without seeming to realize it, close enough that the heat of him brushed her side through the furs.
Then she narrowed her eyes at Zyran. "You actually remembered to wash them?"
Zyran looked offended at once. "What do you take me for?"
"A problem."
Cyrus quietly said, "That is accurate."
Osiris, who had just been suffering in silence, immediately nodded. "Very accurate."
Osiris’s agreement came out a little rougher than intended, his gaze lingering on the juice glistening on her lower lip. He swallowed once, then looked away quickly, ears tinting again—but this time not entirely from embarrassment.
Zyran stared at the three of them as if he had just been betrayed by the whole world. "I leave for one outing, bring fruit back with love and effort, and this is how I am treated?"
Isabella bit into one of the fruits and said without shame, "Yes."
Zyran covered his chest. "Cruel female."
Even so, he looked pleased that she was eating it.
Osiris noticed that too, and for some reason, his brows slowly drew together.
Then he looked at the fruit.
Then at Zyran.
Then at Isabella.
Then, after a brief silence, he asked stiffly, "Do you want anything else?"
