The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 554: LET GO YOU LITTLE RAT

Osiris had seen many terrifying things in his life.

Creatures with too many teeth.

Night beasts with glowing eyes.

Isabella when she woke up angry.

Nothing, however, was as terrifying as a sick Glimora refusing medicine.

And Isabella, sick, exhausted, nasal voice ruined, was one wrong sneeze away from losing her sanity.

The tiny furball clung to the blanket like a war general preparing for death.

Isabella stared at her with tired, heavy eyes. "Glimora. Drink. The medicine."

Glimora shook her head so hard her whole body wobbled.

"No," her squeak said.

Isabella rubbed her forehead. Overwhelmed. Weak. Dying.

"Osiris," she muttered. "Hold her."

Osiris, who had been sitting like a traumatized decorative statue, widened his eyes. "Why me."

"Because I said so."

"That is not a good reason."

"It is the only reason. I do not have energy to argue. Hold her."

Osiris sighed dramatically, scooped Glimora up, and immediately regretted being born.

The little beast glared at him with the intensity of a thousand suns.

He glared back.

"I cannot growl like you, so growl all you want. You are still drinking this."

Glimora growled louder.

Osiris squinted. "Stop it. I am not scared of you."

He was absolutely scared of her.

Isabella thrust the bowl forward. "Feed her. Or I am dumping you."

Osiris froze.

The betrayal hit him like a spear to the chest.

"You could not even do it," he said, pointing at her accusingly. "You. The one who raised her. And now you want me to do it."

"Yes," Isabella said without hesitation. "Because I am sick, tired, cold, and if I attempt it myself, I will cry and run away."

"That is not a good excuse."

"It is an excellent excuse."

Before he could argue again, Glimora sank her tiny teeth into Osiris’ hand.

"OUCH. OUCH. OUCH," he yelled, shaking his arm violently as Glimora dangled from his skin like a tiny demonic ornament.

"LET GO YOU LITTLE RAT."

Glimora held tighter.

Isabella coughed weakly. "Do not call my child a rat."

"She is biting me."

"She is emotional."

"She is a menace."

"She learned it from you."

Osiris gasped offensively.

Finally, Glimora dropped to the ground, landing with the elegance of a ballerina possessed by rage.

She darted outside the tent in a blur of brown fluff.

Isabella blinked tiredly. "Did she just run."

Osiris stared after her in disbelief. "She is sick. How is she running this fast."

"Because she is dramatic," Isabella muttered.

Osiris squinted. "Like you."

"Say it again and I will cough on you."

He held the bowl in silence.

Outside, Glimora dashed across the lagoon sand, squealing with laughter while Osiris chased her like a stressed father chasing a toddler in a marketplace.

"STOP RUNNING," he yelled.

"Eeeeeeek," Glimora squeaked back, zooming between glowing mushrooms.

Osiris slipped on wet sand. "Come back here. You need medicine."

Glimora leapt onto a rock, mocked him with a wiggle of her tail, and ran again.

Osiris whirled around. "She is not even sick. I have been scammed."

Isabella peeked out of the tent, face wrapped in a blanket, eyes half-dead. "Osiris, catch her."

"I am trying."

"You are failing."

"That is because she is possessed."

"No, she is my daughter."

"Then your daughter is possessed."

Glimora hopped over Osiris’ foot, and he tripped so hard he nearly face-planted into the sand.

He turned slowly to Isabella.

"Help me," he begged.

"No," she said proudly. "I am recovering. You deal with your responsibilities."

"THIS IS NOT MY CHILD."

"She is your problem at the moment."

Glimora zigzagged like she had been trained by mountain warriors.

Osiris kept trying to grab her and kept missing by mere centimeters.

The lagoon creatures poked their heads out of the water to watch the show.

One lunareen literally clapped. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Isabella sighed. "Osiris. Stop being useless. She is small. You are big. Use brain."

"I am using brain," he said, chasing Glimora in a circle. "She is using evil."

Finally. Finally. Finally.

The medicine began to work in Isabella’s body.

Her headache eased.

Her nose opened.

Her coughing calmed.

Strength returned like warm sunlight.

She stood, stretched, and stepped outside holding the bowl of doom soup.

Osiris was wheezing, bending over with his hands on his knees.

Glimora sprinted in circles around him like a criminal who enjoyed life too much.

Isabella stared at the spectacle.

"Glimora," she called softly.

Nothing.

"Glimora."

Silence.

Then Isabella switched to Mom Voice.

"Little woman. Get your ass here right now. If not, you are sleeping outside today. And I mean it."

Instantly, Glimora froze in mid-air.

She lowered herself slowly.

Her tail drooped.

Her ears flattened.

She sulked across the sand with the sadness of a child who had been told Christmas was cancelled.

She stopped in front of Isabella, not looking up.

She sniffed pitifully.

Osiris pointed triumphantly. "Finally."

"Shut up," Isabella said.

Isabella bent down and gently lifted Glimora’s chin.

That soft, adorable, betrayed little face almost broke her heart.

"You better drink this soup," Isabella whispered. "All of it. Because I drank mine and now I feel better. Look at you, shivering, refusing what will help you."

Glimora glanced up at her with wobbling eyes.

Then Glimora looked at the bowl.

Then back at her.

She gagged preemptively.

Isabella steadied her. "It is okay. Just a little."

Glimora reluctantly opened her mouth.

Isabella fed her one spoon.

Glimora made a face so dramatic she could win an award.

She gagged.

Her eyes watered.

Her tail flopped like she had fainted internally.

"There," Isabella said. "It was not that hard."

Glimora glared while swallowing.

Osiris watched with fascination. "She looks like you when you are mad."

Isabella ignored him.

She picked up Glimora and kissed her forehead.

Glimora whined, clinging to her like a koala who needed emotional support.

They went back into the tent.

Osiris stood outside, staring at the abandoned bowl of evil soup.

He sniffed it once.

His face twisted.

He tried one tiny lick.

One.

Tiny.

Lick.

The next second he dropped the bowl, gagging violently.

"What is this," he shouted. "This is poison. Isabella fed us poison. I cannot feel my tongue."

He stumbled sideways, wiping his tongue on a leaf.

In the tent, Isabella yelled, "Stop yelling, Osiris. It is medicine."

"It is suffering," he yelled back.

"It healed me."

"It killed me."

"You did not drink it."

"I licked it and died."

Glimora squeaked in agreement.