Cyrus paused.
He lowered his gaze. His pink eyes were calm. "Do I?"
Isabella humd. She poked his scales with her fingers. "En, you are usually cool, but now you are cold. Is it because winter is coming?"
Cyrus looked toward the window.
Outside, the wind carried the sll of snow from the distant mountain. The sky at night had beco clearer and sharper. Even the stars seed colder.
"Maybe," he said.
Isabella thought of sothing.
She tilted her head and rubbed her cheek against his chest.
"Cyrus, will you hibernate in winter?"
The room grew quiet.
On the floor, Zyran’s ears twitched. He secretly pricked them up.
Cyrus’s fingers, which had been gently rubbing her shoulder, stilled for a breath.
"Hibernate?" he repeated.
"Yes." Isabella blinked. "Snake beastn usually hibernate when it gets too cold. I heard so tribes even dig special holes for their snake males to sleep in. What about you?"
Cyrus was silent for a mont.
His pink eyes lowered.
"I do not hibernate," he said.
Isabella was stunned.
She frowned. "You do not? But you are a snake."
Cyrus’s lips curved slightly. "Yes. I am a snake. But I do not sleep through winter."
He spoke slowly, choosing his words.
"I will be slower. My body will like warmth more. I will want to cling to you all the ti. But I will not fall into a deep sleep."
Isabella looked thoughtful.
"Different breeds?" she muttered. "Or special snake rules? Forget it."
She patted his chest.
"Then you are not allowed to leave alone. If you suddenly start hibernating halfway, I will cut your tail and barbecue it."
Cyrus’s chest shook with a soft laugh.
"En. I will stay," he said. His voice was low. "I will never leave you alone again."
His arms tightened slightly around her.
On the floor, Zyran silently rolled over and turned his back to them.
He listened to the gentle breathing above, and his mood felt sour.
He pulled his fur over his head and muttered.
"Always hugging. Always cuddling. If I had known she would lie on snake tail, I would have grown one too."
Foolish, jealous thoughts drifted through his mind until his eyelids grew heavy.
On the bed, Cyrus’s body indeed seed colder than before, so Isabella instinctively snuggled closer to his chest. She felt his chin nuzzle into the crook of her neck.
His breath tickled her skin.
He rarely clung like this.
Isabella’s heart felt a little itchy. She wanted to tease him, but when she looked up, she saw the faint tiredness in his pink eyes.
She sighed.
"You are not allowed to overthink," she murmured. "We are safe here. Sleep."
Cyrus closed his eyes.
His arm around her tightened again, as if making sure she was real.
He slowly relaxed.
The fire in the corner burned quietly.
The night deepened.
Soti after midnight, Isabella opened her eyes.
She did not know what had woken her. Maybe it was the slight tremor of the tail under her, or the way Cyrus’s breathing beca uneven.
She lifted her head.
Cyrus’s brows were drawn together. His lips were pressed in a thin line. The hand closest to her had curled into a fist, veins standing out on the back of it.
His body was trembling slightly, not from cold.
"Cyrus?" she called softly.
He did not answer.
His lashes trembled. His breathing turned rough.
In his dream, the sll of blood returned.
The cold stone floor was covered in red. Chains clanked against his scales. A tall figure stood in the distance, his eyes like two pits of darkness.
The whip in his hands fell again and again.
"Good beast," that man said lazily. "Do not move. Do not think."
Behind him, a woman’s hoarse cry echoed.
"Please, let him go. He is still young. He did nothing wrong..."
The voice was familiar. Warm. It was covered by the sound of the whip, drowned by the man’s bored laugh.
Cyrus’s heart felt like it was being torn apart.
He gasped and jerked awake.
The fire in the room had burned low. The red light flickered on the stone walls.
The weight in his arms was soft and warm. Isabella pretended to sleep peacefully against his chest, her long lashes casting faint shadows on her cheeks.
Cyrus looked at her.
The nightmare slowly receded.
His throat was dry.
He gently loosened his arms so he would not wake her. His tail shifted, becoming light beneath her.
Then, in silence, he slipped out from under her and stood up.
Zyran rolled over on the floor and scratched his stomach, still snoring lightly.
Cyrus glanced at him, then took a fur cloak from the side, draped it over Isabella’s body, and walked quietly toward the door.
The cold night air hit his face as he stepped out.
The village was silent. The sky was scattered with stars. The mountain in the distance was a black shadow, its peak hidden by thin clouds.
Cyrus stood at the entrance of the palace and looked up.
He slowly breathed in and out.
The cold air entered his lungs, but it could not freeze the fire inside his chest.
His pink pupils reflected the sky.
For a brief mont, a strange light flickered in them, deeper and brighter, like molten gemstone.
A faint pink glow flashed and disappeared, as if sothing in his blood had responded to the cold, to his fear, to his anger.
He pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth. His jaw clenched.
Not yet.
He did not want that part of himself.
Behind the window slit, Isabella had silently lifted the corner of the fur curtain.
She watched his back.
His shoulders looked broader than usual, yet lonely.
She saw the way his fists tightened and loosened, the way he stared at the sky as if looking at a place far away.
Her heart twisted.
At that mont, a familiar chanical voice sounded in her mind.
Hidden bloodline stir detected. Host advised to pay attention.
"..."
Isabella’s fingers froze on the fur.
"Hidden bloodline?" she repeated silently.
Her gaze moved to Cyrus again.
He had already relaxed his shoulders and lowered his head. The pink light in his eyes had vanished. He seed to be just a quiet snake beastman feeling the cold wind.
Bubu continued in her mind.
Data unstable. Unable to scan full bloodline information at current level.
"Of course," Isabella thought irritably. "You never can. You only know how to scare people."
Host can improve system level by completing main quests. The more tasks completed, the more information...
"Shut up," Isabella cut it off.
She let go of the curtain.
Her belly gave a small kick as if the hatchlings inside were turning over.
Isabella rubbed it subconsciously.
"Cyrus," she thought, lying back down, "what exactly are you hiding from ?"
She did not get an answer.
The only answer was the sound of the cold wind outside and the quiet heartbeat of the stone palace.
Soon, Cyrus ca back in, his body carrying more cold than before. He lay beside her again, tail curling naturally around her.
This ti, even in his sleep, he did not loosen his hold.
Isabella closed her eyes.
She decided one thing very clearly.
No matter what his bloodline was, no matter what master he had in the past, Cyrus was hers now.
If sothing from his past wanted to hurt him.
She would cut that thing up and feed it to the wolves.
User Comments
0 comments from readers