The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 119: Familiar Feeling Of Warmth

How did it take her this long to notice? She felt a rush of excitement that she couldn’t quite put into words, but she knew one thing for sure: her brother was falling for Isabella. It was right there in the small, uncharacteristic way he reached out to her. She swallowed the excitement bubbling up in her chest, silently thrilled but determined to keep it to herself.

Isabella, too, felt the subtle change in the air. She could see the shift in Kian’s expression, and though she didn’t say anything, something inside her warmed. She was too tired, too drained to even process it fully, but the softness in his gaze made her smile, even if it was weak and fleeting.

"I’m glad you’re here," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but sincere.

Kian didn’t say anything in return, but the brief, tender moment spoke volumes. He simply stayed by her side, a little closer than before, offering the quiet comfort of his presence.

Ophelia returned a moment later, holding a steaming bowl of soup with trembling hands. "Here, drink this. It’ll help. You’ve been through so much, you need to regain your strength." She set it gently in Isabella’s hands, her gaze never leaving her friend’s face.

Isabella looked at the bowl, her hands shaky as she brought it to her lips. She winced at the effort it took to even hold it. The warmth from the soup seeped into her, but it was more than just the heat. It was the kindness, the way they had all rallied around her, the way they’d stayed by her side. It was more than she ever could’ve asked for.

Glimora snuggled closer to her, and Isabella chuckled softly, her hand weakly stroking the creature’s back. "You’re not leaving my side, huh?" she whispered. Glimora purred in response, as if to say, "Of course not."

The others hovered nearby, giving her space but not leaving her alone. The atmosphere in the room was thick with the kind of quiet care she hadn’t even realized she needed. It was... nice. Peaceful. Not something she had ever really experienced before. Maybe she hadn’t realized just how much she longed for this world until she woke up here, surrounded by them.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her gaze shifting to Shelia, Ophelia, then to Kian, and Luca. "For everything."

They all smiled in return, but Kian’s smile held the most weight. It was a small, rare smile, but it was filled with so much emotion that Isabella couldn’t help but feel a warm swell inside her chest. For once, she wasn’t just trying to survive. She was living.

"Just rest," Ophelia said gently, brushing a strand of hair from Isabella’s face as she sat beside her, still glowing with the relief of her friend’s awakening. "We’ll take care of everything."

Isabella nodded, her eyelids growing heavy again. She felt like she could finally relax, and for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid.

Cyrus had been watching all of this unfold before his eyes, a silent observer in the corner of the room. Every little moment, every small shift in the air between Kian and Isabella, made his chest tighten. He couldn’t quite understand it, but it hurt.

He’d given everything to help her, used all his abilities to make sure she was alright, and yet... she hadn’t even glanced his way. He was a stranger to her, he knew that. She didn’t owe him anything. But still, the emptiness in her gaze when it didn’t land on him, it stung. Even now, with her weak smile directed at Kian, Cyrus felt like a ghost in the room.

Is this how it is going to be? he wondered, his jaw tightening as he fought to push down the bitter feeling creeping up his throat. He’d always been used to being alone, to relying on his own strength. But there was something about this moment, the way they were all gathered around Isabella, that made him feel more like an outsider than ever.

Cyrus’s eyes flickered to Kian, noticing the rare softness in his expression as he sat next to Isabella. He didn’t resent it, didn’t feel bitterness. Instead, there was a quiet understanding, a silent acknowledgment that Kian cared in his own way. It wasn’t something Cyrus had expected, but it wasn’t unwelcome either. It made sense. Even someone as distant as Kian could feel this.

Cyrus wasn’t angry, nor did he feel slighted. He was content to do what he could, knowing his place in this moment. It wasn’t about needing anything in return. Seeing Isabella safe, watching her smile weakly, was enough. He had done what he set out to do. The rest was up to her—and to them.

Shelia caught the slight shift in his posture, a quick narrowing of his eyes, a muscle in his jaw twitching. She’d seen enough of it to know it wasn’t just concern. It was something deeper. But she didn’t say anything. She just stayed quiet, watching, waiting.

As Isabella settled into the moment, her gaze still on Kian, Cyrus exhaled a long breath, the weight of the room too much for him to bear. He knew there was nothing left to do here. She was well. That was all that mattered.

With a single, deliberate step, he turned away. His footsteps were soft, calculated, as though he didn’t want to disturb the fragile calm of the room. He knew he wasn’t needed anymore, knew he was nothing but a temporary figure here. But still, his heart seemed to twist in his chest with each step he took toward the entrance.

The moment he reached it, he hesitated.

Just a second. One last second, he thought. But when he glanced over his shoulder, Isabella’s eyes met his—just for a fleeting moment. It was as though everything stopped, time slowing to a crawl. He could’ve sworn he saw a flicker of recognition, of something between them. But before he could decipher it, her gaze flickered away, back to Kian. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t move.

He felt the weight of the world pressing against his ribs as he stepped out the door, leaving her behind.