Isabella’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, her perfectly sculpted brows lifting as she leaned in, her golden curls bouncing with the movent.
"Ohhh..." she trilled, dragging out the sound as if she had just uncovered a juicy little secret. "Why do I feel like you’re hiding sothing from ?"
She clasped her hands together dramatically, pressing them against her chest like a wounded princess. "Cyrus, darling," she sighed, tilting her head with an exaggerated pout. "You wouldn’t keep things from , would you?"
Of course, she was acting—but that didn’t an she wasn’t serious. If she was going to take him in under her precious na, she had to confirm he wasn’t hiding sothing dangerous. A man didn’t just show up needing shelter unless he was running from sothing. And if that sothing ca knocking on her doorstep? Ohhh, she refused to let so hidden ss ruin her very peaceful, very fabulous life.
Cyrus remained silent.
She gasped softly, placing a delicate hand over her heart like she had just been betrayed.
"My stars," she whispered, her voice high and airy. "You are keeping secrets! I knew it!"
Then, without missing a beat, she flipped the switch—her pout vanishing as she fluttered her lashes and bead at him. "Okay, spill! Where are you really from?" She playfully bumped his arm, her voice laced with honeyed persuasion. "Because if you don’t tell ..." She tapped her chin in thought before dramatically pointing a finger at him. "I’ll assu sothing wildly ridiculous! And then I’ll tell everyone!"
At that, Cyrus tensed.
Isabella caught it instantly. Ohhh? So that did get a reaction.
But beneath that slight stiffness, there was sothing else—guilt. He didn’t want to keep things from her.
"Oh my gosh!" Isabella gasped again, twirling in place like she had just had the most scandalous realization. "Are you a secret prince?! Is that it?! Is there a cursed prophecy?!"
She waggled her fingers in the air for dramatic effect before suddenly leaning in, lowering her voice into a sing-song whisper. "Or... did you do sothing?"
Her teasing expression remained, but there was sothing sharp beneath it—like she was both playing and completely serious at the sa ti.
Cyrus swallowed hard, his pink eyes flickering.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell her. He was simply afraid.
Afraid she’d hate him.
Afraid she’d turn him away.
Afraid she’d be...disgusted by him.
But looking at her now, with her too-pretty-for-this-world face and her ridiculously dramatic way of handling things... he felt sothing strange.
Like maybe—just maybe—she wouldn’t look at him with disgust.
He couldn’t keep his secret forever.
And since he now belonged to her...
It was only fair he told her.
Cyrus hesitated.
His pink eyes flickered toward Isabella’s expectant face, her soft hands still cradling the small, furry creature against her chest. The weight of her stare made his throat dry.
He knew this mont would co. But now that it was here, now that she was asking—he felt the truth pressing against his ribs like a stone.
Still, he had to say it.
"I co from Duskspire," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
Isabella blinked. "Duskspire?" Her nose scrunched slightly as she tried to recall if she had ever heard of it before. "Ooo, that sounds mysterious." She leaned forward, eyes twinkling with curiosity. "What do you do there?"
Cyrus blinked, montarily taken aback. How could she not know about Duskspire?
But then, after a beat of thought, it made sense. Isabella was from a small village—she must’ve never even heard of it. Still, Duskspire wasn’t just any city. It was the fifth largest in the beast world... and one of the most terrifying.
Yet, as he looked at her now, sothing in her expression made him hesitate. His fingers twitched at his sides.
Was it doubt? Or was it sothing else?
Isabella didn’t miss it.
"Ohhh," she drawled, tilting her head dramatically. "Why do I feel like you don’t want to tell ?" Her lips curled into a knowing smile, but there was a glint in her eye that warned she would not let this go. "C’mon, darling," she pressed, reaching out to playfully poke his arm. "Tell , tell , tell —"
"We... capture," Cyrus finally admitted. "Mateless won. And rare beasts."
The mont the words left his lips, he felt the shift.
The warm little ball of fur in Isabella’s hands stirred.
Glimora’s sleepy eyes fluttered open.
Then—shoop! She tucked herself impossibly closer to Isabella’s chest, pressing into the soft fabric of her fur as if trying to vanish inside of it.
"Ohhh!" Isabella gasped, hugging the creature protectively. "You leave my precious baby alone!"
Cyrus opened his mouth, but Glimora had already locked onto him—her once-content gaze now sharp and full of accusation.
"Oh, would you look at that?" Isabella said, her voice airy but laced with pure judgnt. "Even she knows you’re a villain!"
Cyrus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn’t—"
"Hmph!" Isabella huffed, pressing a kiss to Glimora’s fluffy head as if to soothe her. "There, there, my sweet angel, mommy won’t let the big, bad snake take you."
Cyrus didn’t even try to argue.
Isabella had already turned back to him, her lashes fluttering as she pursed her lips in mock consideration. "Soooo..." she dragged out the word, tapping her fingers against Glimora’s tiny back. "What exactly do you do to these won?"
Cyrus felt his stomach twist.
He knew what she was asking.
And he knew how it sounded.
"Nothing," he said quickly. "I don’t— I an, I just..." He exhaled, running a hand through his red hair. "I find them. That’s all. I just... find them."
Isabella stared.
Not accusingly. Not angrily.
Just stared.
And in that mont, he realized—she wasn’t just listening. She was watching.
Watching the way he carefully chose his ,words. Watching the way he stepped around them.
Watching the way he didn’t want to associate with his past.
And Isabella, being Isabella, imdiately clocked it.
"Are you sure that’s all you do?" She asked suspiciously and Cyrus imdiately nodded.
"And what are they really used for?" She asked narrowing her eyes because she was not only invested now.
She was also concerned, she had to know everything so In case trouble ca knocking in the future she knows what she is getting herself into.
At least she’d have ti to prepare, but one thing was for sure. Her safety always ca first.
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