The wind outside the stone palace whistled in from the mountain, sotis biting cold, sotis oddly warm, like winter and autumn were fighting over who owned the sky.
Inside, a polished stone mirror leaned against the wall. It was sothing Isabella made months ago. At that ti, she had been so obsessed with staring at herself in the mirror. Now, it had beco her greatest enemy.
Isabella stood in front of it, hands pressed against her waist.
Her waist, that used to be slim and easy to hug with one arm, had beco softer and rounder. Her cheeks were a little puffier too, like soone had secretly stored extra food inside.
She pinched her own face and glared at her reflection.
"...I am fat."
She stared a while longer.
Her face was still pretty. Her eyes were big and bright. Her skin was fairer than most beastn females. Her long hair was smooth.
But.
Her hands subconsciously went to her stomach that was already rounding with the hatchlings, and she puffed her cheeks.
"The mirror is lying. It must be lying," she muttered.
Behind her, a lazy male voice sounded.
"It is not lying. You are indeed fatter."
Isabella’s shoulders stiffened.
She slowly turned around.
Zyran was sprawled on a fur mat not far away. He was leaning against a pile of furs, long legs stretched, one hand supporting his cheek. His red eyes were smiling as he stared at her, like he had been watching a fun show for a while.
He raised his brows. "The fatter you are, the sexier you look."
"..."
Isabella pointed a trembling finger at him. "You are calling fat."
Zyran blinked. "I am praising you."
"You are calling fat."
Her voice rose. Her mind had instantly translated his words.
Fat.
Heavy.
Round.
Isabella’s face flushed. She strode over, grabbed the nearest fur cushion, and smacked it at him.
"Who allowed you to talk?" she snapped. "Who allowed you to use your mouth for sothing other than eating?"
Zyran caught the cushion with a laugh. The blow landed on his shoulder anyway, soft and fluffy.
The impact did not hurt at all.
But his heart trembled.
Pregnant females are so fierce. So cute.
He hugged the cushion and looked at her seriously. "It is true. If you get fatter, that ans the hatchlings are growing well. You are a pregnant woman. You should be round, not skinny. If you are too thin, I will worry I will break you when I press you down."
Isabella’s ears heated up at once.
"What are you pressing down?" Her face darkened. "Say that again. I dare you."
Zyran obediently shut his mouth.
His eyes, however, were still smiling.
What should he say. Every ti she moved, he thought about pressing her down.
He felt sothing slam against his shoulder again. Isabella had picked up another pillow and hit him harder.
"Stop thinking nonsense."
"I did not speak," Zyran said innocently. He pretended to shield his head, but he did not avoid her at all.
Isabella’s anger quickly ran out. Her arms were a bit sore. Her round belly rose and fell as she breathed.
She glanced at the mirror again.
"So I really look better fat?" she asked suspiciously.
Zyran imdiately straightened. He nodded with an extrely serious expression.
"En. You look very delicious, I an, very good."
"...Get out."
"Alright, alright, I will get out to the floor and sleep," Zyran said as he rolled sideways and lay flat without sha. "I will guard here and admire your beauty."
Isabella felt her lips twitch.
This idiot.
At that mont, the stone door curtain moved. A tall figure walked in with steady steps, bringing with him a faint cold sll from outside.
Cyrus.
His long hair was tied lazily behind him. His pink eyes swept over the ssy cushions and the flushed Isabella, then landed on Zyran on the floor.
Zyran stretched as if he had done nothing wrong. "Oh, look, our snake has slithered back."
Cyrus glanced at him. "You talk too much."
Zyran sighed and obediently hugged his fur and rolled further away, leaving space in the center of the room.
Cyrus did not waste his breath on him. He walked straight to the corner where the bedding was kept.
He took out thick furs and soft woven mats, spreading them layer by layer on the stone bed. His movents were practiced and careful. He even shook the mats a few tis, making sure there was no dust that would make Isabella cough.
Isabella watched quietly.
Ever since her belly started growing, the n had beco more and more attentive. Cyrus was the one who took care of the sleeping area most often. He arranged the bed with the sa seriousness as preparing for war.
"Co," Cyrus said gently.
Isabella climbed onto the bed and lay down.
The bedding was soft, but after a while she twisted her waist. The weight in her belly pressed down. Her lower back felt a little sore.
She frowned. "It is not comfortable."
Cyrus looked at her for a mont.
Then his lower body silently changed.
From the waist down, his pale legs disappeared, replaced by smooth scales that shimred faintly in the firelight. His long snake tail extended, strong and flexible, then curled around Isabella like a living cushion.
The scales were cold to the touch, but his body was solid and steady.
Cyrus carefully adjusted his tail, raising one part to support her waist, another to support her knees, and another to wrap behind her shoulders like a backrest.
Isabella’s eyes lit up.
She naturally shifted and lay on him.
"So comfortable."
She could not help sighing. The tail that used to look a bit scary when she first t him had now beco her favorite pillow.
Cyrus felt his heart soften.
"Sleep like this," he said softly. "I will hold you."
His arms went around her, securing her against his chest. His chin rested lightly against the top of her head. His breath brushed her hair.
Isabella narrowed her eyes.
After lying quietly for a while, she frowned slightly.
"Cyrus," she suddenly said, "you feel colder than usual."
User Comments
0 comments from readers