Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands-Chapter 102 --

Kaya’s fists clenched at her sides. She exhaled—hard. The kind of exhale that did nothing to calm the storm inside.

"Are you deaf now too?" she snapped, stepping closer to the tree.

Still no response.

Kaya stared at the plump little sparrow sitting up there like he couldn’t hear a single thing.

Fine.

If he was going to pretend, then so would she.

With a sigh, she took off her blazer and tossed it onto a nearby rock. It had once been grey, but now it leaned more toward a dusty brown—thanks to all the dirt, packing, and general misery of the day.

She looked up again. He was still there.

Alright then.

Without another word, Kaya started climbing the tree. The bark scratched against her arms, but she barely felt it. Whether it was the effect of the healing herb she had taken earlier or something else, her body moved with surprising ease.

Even with the cloth still tied around her eyes, she could see perfectly. The strange, transparent fabric—gifted by that mermaid—somehow allowed her full vision, though she still had no idea what it was made of.

Three jumps. Maybe four. And she was at the top.

Right where he was.

She stood on the branch beside him, silent, steady.

Then slowly, she turned her face toward him.

Expressionless. Cold. Deadpan. Black eyes.

The sparrow blinked.

He hadn’t seen this girl in three years—and now here she was, practically flying through trees, standing in front of him with that face.

That face.

And in that exact moment, he knew—without a doubt—

She was completely pissed off.

C-chrip?

(W-what?)

The sparrow took a small step back, his tiny claws gripping the branch nervously. He swallowed hard.

He had no idea why this woman was so angry.

She hadn’t even shouted yet, but the look on her face said everything. Her eyes were sharp, her expression flat—but there was something dangerous in the silence. It made his feathers stand on edge.

What did I even do?

He didn’t know. And that made it worse.

.

.

.

Meanwhile, in the Vulture Tribe...

Veer sat alone on a jagged rock, his silhouette sharp against the fading light. In his hand, he held a wild red flower—its petals vibrant, almost too alive in contrast to the stillness around him.

His right hand gripped the stem tightly, too tightly—thorned and unforgiving. Blood seeped slowly from between his fingers, running down in thin rivulets, staining his skin in quiet defiance.

He didn’t flinch.

Eyes half-lidded, he stared at the flower as if searching for something. And then, without a word, he began to pluck the petals.

One.

Another.

And another.

Slow, deliberate.

The other Vultures stood nearby, watching him. Not one of them dared to move.

Even though they could see the blood dripping from Veer’s hand, none of them stepped forward. They just stood there, trembling in silence—too scared to interfere.

Suddenly, Veer’s father returned from the hunt, his clothes dusted with sand and dirt. His eyes widened the moment he saw the scene. He rushed over, grabbing Veer’s bleeding hand.

"Veer, are you crazy? What the hell are you doing?!"

He looked down at his son’s palm, torn up and red, blood flowing freely onto the dry ground, soaking into the dirt like spilled ink.

Without waiting, he snatched the flower from Veer’s grip and threw it to the ground.

Then he turned on the others, his voice full of anger.

"Are you all out of your minds?! Why didn’t any of you try to stop him?!"

But Veer didn’t flinch. Instead, he calmly reached out and held his father’s wrist, his eyes slowly lifting to meet his.

And then, in a voice that was soft... but filled with something broken, he whispered,

"She went to Mermaid. Tribe dad".

Veer’s father looked at him, confused.

"Her? Who?"

Veer didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the ground, then slowly stepped up onto the stone, the same one where he’d been sitting moments ago. He reached for his father’s hand, snapping it slightly between his fingers—not hard, but enough to pull his attention.

"Her, Dad. Her." His voice was low, but every word hit like a drum. "The one who killed your second son."

His father’s expression changed instantly—turning dark, serious.

"You mean... that woman?"

Veer nodded, his eyes distant. "Yeah, Dad. You know, she went to the Mermaid Tribe. And I heard she even fought with the Shark Tribe. Then she came back. With something."

His father stepped closer, a deep frown settling on his face. "What... do you want that thing she brought back?"

Veer turned to look at him, and for a moment, there was silence. Then he gave a crooked smile and slowly spun his father around by the shoulders, speaking in a mocking, almost sing-song tone.

"Dad, Dad, Dad... can’t you understand something so simple?"

He stopped spinning and looked at him straight in the eyes.

"That woman went underwater. Faced the Shark Tribe. Fought. Survived. Came back alive. And the whole time—she wore that white blindfold. Do you know how beautiful it looked on her?"

His father stared at him, stunned. Then, his voice rising with disbelief and anger, he snapped,

"Are you crazy?! Are you even hearing yourself? Is that why you’re hurting yourself? Over this?!"

But Veer didn’t flinch. He turned his grim face back toward his father and said coldly:

"Can’t you understand something so simple?"

"I told you—she went to another tribe, for something she wanted. She didn’t come to me. Me—who rules over this forest. With just one word, I could’ve given her anything she wanted."

He clenched his fists, jaw tight.

"But she didn’t come to me."

Veer’s father stood still for a moment, just staring at him. His hands were clenched at his sides, and his mouth opened slightly—like he wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn’t come.

Then he took a step forward, his voice low but heavy.

"Veer... listen to yourself."

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