The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts Chapter 204 - 205: He made it sound like just being near him

Isabella raised her hand. No one noticed.

She cleared her throat—once, sharply. It echoed like a whipcrack across the gathered crowd.

The won quieted. A few looked away, embarrassed. Others wiped their eyes.

"One at a ti," Isabella said firmly, her voice crisp and commanding. "You deserve to be heard. So don’t drown each other out."

There was a short pause. Then nods.

One by one, they stepped forward. And with every testimony, the village’s atmosphere grew heavier. Tighter. Like the walls themselves were listening.

The first to speak properly was a short woman with burn marks on her arm. "I always thought it was normal," she whispered. "n shouting, grabbing, pulling. But Gerwin—he didn’t just yell. He... punished. If you said no, he made you pay for it."

"How did no one see it?" Kian asked, his voice low and cold. "This is a small village."

"He was smart," the woman replied. "He never hit us in public. Only when we accompanied our mates to hunt, when the males were distracted, far away. Or when we gathered herbs. Always out of sight. And if he couldn’t do it alone, he’d whisper threats. Once, he laughed and said, ’No one questions a warrior in heat. Especially not when the female’s already been seen walking near his hut.’ He made it sound like just being near him gave him the right."

Another woman stepped forward. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

"He touched . Not once. Not twice. Many tis. In front of my children," she said, her voice flat. "When I threatened to scream, he smiled and said, ’Go ahead. See who believes the ugly sow over .’"

Murmurs of disbelief rose in the crowd.

Kian looked at her. "Did you tell your mate?"

"He died two seasons ago."

Kian’s jaw flexed.

A younger woman stepped forward next. Her voice shook, but she held her head high. "He told if I ever got too loud around the elders, he’d tie up and sell to the slave markets in the northern tribe."

There was a collective intake of breath.

Kian’s voice ca low, but sharp. "That is punishable by death."

She nodded slowly. "He knew. That’s why he only whispered it."

The testimonies kept coming.

"He tried to force himself on while I was pregnant—"

"He slapped and said I should thank him because my mate wouldn’t bother disciplining —"

"He threw a rock at . I still have the scar on my shoulder."

"He said no one would believe if I said anything, because ’beastn only respect strength.’"

"That’s why we kept quiet," another woman said. "No one wants to be seen as weak. And Gerwin was a strong warrior. He made sure we looked stupid if we complained. He’d fake smiles in public. Give us ’gifts.’ Pretend we liked it."

Isabella watched them all. Silent. Still. Her hands clenched behind her back.

She still couldn’t believe she’d found Ophelia on her knees for that pig—not once, but twice. And now Alena? Acting like he was worth swooning over?

Sothing wasn’t right.

A part of her refused to believe Alena’s affection was real. And if it wasn’t, there were only two explanations—neither of them good.

Either Alena was in on whatever sick ga Gerwin was playing... or he was forcing her.

Ophelia was too soft, too kind. She’d give her soul to anyone who asked nicely. But Alena?

Alena was sharp. an. Sotis fake enough to peel the skin off her smile and still call it kindness.

If Gerwin had both of them under his thumb?

Then things were far uglier than she thought.

Kian’s eyes were darker now. "Were there no witnesses? No other males who saw this?"

"They looked away," one woman answered, bitter. "Or laughed. Said we were being dramatic. And if we pushed too hard, they’d say we were jealous of the attention."

Another woman chid in, her voice trembling with sha. "And Gerwin knew which of us didn’t have mates yet... or whose mating marks hadn’t sealed. He’d wait till we were alone, then say things like, ’No one protects unmated females. You don’t even belong to anyone.’ He made us feel... like we were disposable."

"I wanted to speak up once," an older woman said, her voice rough with age. "But he ca to my hut that night and marked the front with blood. I knew what that ant. So I stayed quiet."

"That’s why the rumors spread," soone else added. "Won left the village. Moved to nearby tribes. Said they couldn’t ’cope with the mating system’ here. But no one questioned why."

Kian turned his gaze to the guards at the edges. "Is that true?"

One of them—a tall male with a scar down his cheek—stepped forward reluctantly. "I... heard things. Nothing concrete. I never saw him actually hit anyone. But I did see him pulling one of the gatherers behind the storage house once. She looked scared."

"Why didn’t you say sothing?" Isabella asked.

He looked ashad. "It wasn’t my place to question a warrior. I thought maybe she... owed him sothing."

Isabella shook her head slowly, disgust crawling over her like insects on skin.

Another voice rang out—this ti from a woman holding a baby at her hip. "He told if I ever told my mate, he’d hurt my child instead. He knew my mate was softhearted."

There were tears now. Silent ones. So angry. So broken.

And Kian? He was still. But sothing in his posture had shifted. His fists curled slowly. His blue eyes no longer just cold—they burned.

"This stops now," he said quietly, but the words felt like thunder.

No one dared speak.

Then Isabella’s voice cut through the crowd, crisp and loud:

"And he is not the only one."

Gasps erupted. Eyes widened. Confusion swept through the crowd like wildfire. Whispers broke into frantic murmurs as heads turned and hearts pounded.

Because if Gerwin wasn’t alone... then how many more?

And who else had been staying silent?