Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands-Chapter 419 --

Sparrow suddenly turned to Kaya, like the question had been burning his tongue for too long.

"He’s my cousin," he said quietly, "but even I don’t know how he uses his power. How did you know it was his eyes... even with that surgeon’s cloth tied over them?"

Kaya blinked once. She hadn’t expected that from him. For a second, she almost looked impressed—almost.

Then she answered in a simple tone. "Because he didn’t know our names at first. And I never saw his mouth moving when the bad luck hit. I only saw his eyes."

She paused, then admitted the ugly part without shame.

"It was a guess. A gamble."

Sparrow stared at her like she’d just said the most insane thing in the world.

He exhaled, sharp. "Sometimes I really want to ask if you’re crazy. What if your gamble was wrong and he doesn’t use his eyes? What if it’s his mouth?"

Kaya shrugged, like it still didn’t scare her. "Then he still didn’t know my real name," she said. "At most, he could curse you guys. Not me. So it wasn’t a big deal."

Sparrow went completely speechless.

Not because her logic was perfect. Because it was ’Kaya’. Cold, quick, and brutal in how she decided what risks were acceptable—especially when the risk wasn’t landing on her.

But Kaya had missed one thing in the middle of all that confidence.

Even if Liam couldn’t fully curse her without her true name... he could still touch her luck. He could still tilt the world a little sideways around her.

...

At evening

Liam hadn’t opened his mouth since the box. He was resting, saving breath, saving strength, saving whatever tricks he still had left.

Kaya was tired too. The whole day had been long—shopping, checking supplies, preparing for the next move. The others were the same. One by one the cave went quiet until it felt like the night itself had finally stopped watching them.

Her room was dark, fully dark. No lamp, no glow, nothing. Kaya slept early, but not deep. She never slept deep in a place that could be taken from her and when there is already a bastard like Liam in house.

That was why she heard it.

The door opened.

Slow. Careful. Not the loud push of a stranger. The sound was so controlled it almost felt polite. Kaya didn’t move. She kept her face relaxed, kept her breathing steady, like she was still asleep. If someone wanted to test her, she would let them think she was easy.

Footsteps entered and came closer.

Her mind started working at once. Enemy? If yes, how did they get in without anyone outside making a sound? Did Veer not notice? Did Cutie not notice? Or was the jinx already bending the night again, smoothing out noises that should’ve been there?

The steps didn’t stumble. They didn’t hesitate. Whoever it was knew the room.

That made her colder.

She kept her eyes shut, listening. The darkness helped the intruder, but it helped her too—because she didn’t need to see to shoot.

A small sound came next, like cloth tearing or a rag twisting too hard in a shaking hand. Then breathing—tight, rough, like the person was trying to control it and failing.

Not calm breathing.

Nervous breathing.

Kaya felt the air change near her face. A hand moving close, slow enough to be careful, close enough to be stupid.

Her eyes snapped open.

In one fast motion she pulled the gun from under her pillow and rose onto her knees on the bed, the barrel already aimed at the shadow in front of her. Her finger tightened, ready, not trembling, not playing.

The figure froze.

Hands lifted.

Kaya’s heartbeat didn’t jump. Her mind stayed sharp, cold as steel. She adjusted her aim a fraction, trying to catch the shape of the face in the dark.

And then her eyes caught enough.

The build. The familiar shoulders. The way he held his breath like he was bracing for a slap.

Her stomach dropped.

It was Cutie.

Cutie stood there, caught in the muzzle’s line, wide-eyed and breathing hard, like he’d walked into her room with a reason he couldn’t say out loud.

Kaya didn’t lower the gun right away.

Shock lasted one second.

After that, only suspicion remained.

Kaya noticed it the second her eyes adjusted.

Something was off with Cutie.

In the dark his face looked too shadowed, too uneven, like the color on his skin was wrong. Kaya could see in darkness better than most, but even she didn’t trust what night did to people’s faces. Not when the jinx had already proven it could twist "normal" into "wrong" without warning.

"Stay right there," she said, sharp and quiet.

Cutie didn’t argue. He didn’t even blink properly. He just stood where he was, swaying so slightly it almost looked like breathing.

Kaya slid off the bed without taking her eyes off him, reached to the side shelf, and struck a candle. The wick caught slow, then flared, painting the room in soft gold.

The light hit Cutie and Kaya’s stomach tightened.

His face was flushed red—too red. Not from heat. Not from embarrassment. His eyes were hazy, unfocused, like he was looking through water. Sweat darkened his hairline and ran down his neck. His shirt clung to him in patches, wet like he’d been running or burning from the inside.

And the worst part—his breathing.

Not fast like panic.

Not loud like anger.

It was tight. Forced. Like each breath was being dragged through something heavy.

"You—what the..." Kaya’s voice broke into a low growl. She stepped closer, fast.

Cutie’s lips parted like he wanted to answer, but nothing clean came out. Just a rough exhale.

Kaya reached up and pressed the back of her fingers to his forehead.

Warm. Slightly.

Not the kind of fever that knocks a person down. Not enough to explain this. Not enough to explain why he was sweating like the cave was on fire.

Kaya’s eyes swept him again, quick and brutal. Mountain air outside was cold. The cave was comfortable, yes, but not ’this’. Not enough to soak a man.

"Are you sick?" she asked, but her tone didn’t sound like a normal question.

It sounded like a warning.

Because sickness was one thing.

But this looked like something else crawling under his skin—something sudden, something triggered.

And Kaya couldn’t stop the thought that came next.