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The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 613: You can say it is good, you know You do not have to keep pretending to be calm
Osiris bit into his slice with surprising elegance. The sweetness hit his tongue and made his eyes narrow in pleasure. He flicked his tongue over the crumbs at the corner of his mouth.
"It is officially decided," he said in a lazy tone. "You are not just a goddess of war and fields. You are also a dessert goddess now."
Zyran took a bite last.
He did it slowly.
The moment the cake entered his mouth, he knew that, if he judged by the standards of the divine realm, this was not the most perfect cake he had eaten.
There were more refined ones, with smoother texture and more complicated flavors. But there was something those cakes did not have.
This one carried the smoke of this village’s fire, the scent of its winter air, and Isabella’s concentration and cursing when the batter had been too thick.
It was hers.
That alone made it taste better than anything else he remembered.
He finished the slice in two more bites.
Isabella observed their faces.
Seeing these huge, dangerous beasts chewing cake like serious children, cheeks faintly puffed, made her want to laugh.
They all had different reactions, but all of them slowly reached out for a second piece when she offered it, pretending it was casual.
"You can say it is good, you know," she teased. "You do not have to keep pretending to be calm." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢
Zyran cleared his throat.
"It is acceptable," he said, expression neutral.
Isabella lifted a brow.
He avoided her gaze and reached for a third piece with the speed of a panther snatching prey.
Before she could mock him, a small growl came from the doorway.
Isabella’s ears twitched.
She turned, and her lips curved.
A small white figure rushed in, snow still clinging to her fur.
Glimora.
She had clearly been with the injured mountain ridge beast in the fenced yard again.
Lately she had been glued to that giant beast’s side, keeping it company like a tiny white guardian. Now, however, betrayal was written all over her fluffy face.
Her blue eyes locked onto the cake in Isabella’s hand.
She let out another little growl, stomping her short legs.
How dare her mama eat something without her.
Isabella could almost see the words written on her forehead.
Zyran clicked his tongue.
"Look at that." He leaned down, resting his hand on his knee. "The little white furball has grown bolder. One cake smell and she forgets her injured friend outside."
Glimora bared her small teeth at him and made a low warning sound.
She was no longer as round and baby faced as before. Her body had lengthened a bit. The fur guarding her shoulders and back had grown thicker, with faint patterns like soft ridges. Her tail had become longer and more flexible, sweeping the floor with quiet grace.
She was clearly leaving the baby stage and turning into a true young beast.
Her glare, however, was still that of a child.
Isabella walked over and crouched, rubbing Glimora’s head.
"Do not mind him," she said. "Zyran talks nonsense when his mouth is not full."
Glimora let out a proud snort at Zyran, then turned her head back to Isabella and opened her mouth obediently.
Isabella broke off a small piece of cake and held it before her.
Glimora took it carefully between her teeth and chewed.
Her little ears twitched. Her eyes widened slightly. The cake was much softer than meat. It dissolved into warm sweetness on her tongue. Honey stuck to her teeth.
She swallowed, then immediately raised her head for more.
Isabella laughed.
"Slowly," she scolded gently. "You will choke if you eat too fast."
Zyran watched that small scene with an indescribable expression.
Even the little beast received cake directly from Isabella’s fingers.
He wanted to open his mouth and demand to be fed the same way, but his pride as a great black panther and a son of the underworld refused.
He only clicked his tongue again.
"Even the beasts in this village are getting spoiled," he muttered. "Next they will start asking for cake on their birthdays."
Glimora shot him another look.
She definitely understood his words and might have been contemplating on it.
One by one, more people peeked into the fire room, drawn by the smell.
Valen arrived first, carrying some hunting gear that he immediately forgot about when the fragrance hit his nose. Luca and Asael came soon after, fresh from patrol.
Ophelia bounced up when she saw Valen.
"Valen, you are late," she complained. "Isabella made something called cake. We almost finished it."
Valen blinked, then smiled back at her, gentle and helpless.
"If it is Isabella’s food, it must be good," he said. "If there is none left, I will just smell the air."
Isabella snorted.
"Stop acting pitiful," she told him. "There is still some."
She quickly cut the remaining part and handed pieces to Valen, Luca, and Asael. Their faces lit up with the same amazement that had already warmed the room earlier.
Soon the fire room was full of chewing sounds and small sighs of satisfaction.
Isabella leaned back against a warm stone and took her own slice at last.
As she bit into it, she watched her men and friends.
Huge and powerful beastmen with strong arms, sharp teeth, and scars scattered across their skin, all sitting in a circle and carefully holding soft slices of cake like they were fragile treasures. Even their ears twitched differently with each bite.
It made her want to laugh and cry at the same time.
"These people," she thought to herself, "are going to make me soft."
While they savored the last crumbs, Isabella’s mind had already moved on to the next question.
What should they eat for dinner? Something warm, with soup, maybe. Winter was coming fast. She would have to plan their meals carefully to keep everyone’s strength up.
She licked a bit of honey from her finger and decided that tonight, they would all eat something rich and hot.
The cake had conquered everyone’s taste buds. Now it was time to fill their stomachs again.







