CHAPTER 306: CHAPTER 306: YOU SHOULD GO INSIDE AND REST. I’LL DEAL WITH THIS

Cyrus stood in the shadows, silent as always. The kind of silence that didn’t just linger—it pressed down on his shoulders like weight, like punishment.

His gaze found her before he even meant to look.

There she was.

Isabella.

Cradled softly in Kian’s arms, her head resting against his chest like it belonged there. Like she felt safe there.

And maybe she did.

Cyrus didn’t move. He barely breathed.

She looked so small in Kian’s hold, so tired—but alive. And beautiful. Always beautiful. The moonlight kissed the edge of her cheekbone, lit up the delicate line of her nose. Her lashes fluttered. Her lips parted just slightly like she was whispering something he couldn’t hear.

He wished he could hear.

He wished she was saying his name.

But she wasn’t.

And the ache that bloomed in his chest felt slow and raw, like the kind of pain that doesn’t come all at once—but rather builds until it drowns you.

That should’ve been him.

She should’ve come to him.

Not because he deserved it—no, he knew better than to believe he ever deserved anything—but because gods, he wanted her. He wanted her more than anything he’d ever dared want.

He had bled for her.

He had chosen her.

Not once. Every time.

Every damn time, Cyrus had picked her—even when she didn’t see it, even when she didn’t ask him to.

And still... she never ran to him.

His throat felt tight, like something fragile was stuck there. A word. A hope. A scream he didn’t have the right to release.

Maybe his master had been right all along.

Maybe no one would ever love a monster like him.

Not the way he loved.

Because he didn’t love halfway. He didn’t love neatly. He loved with the kind of quiet desperation that made his ribs feel like cages. Like his own heart was trapped behind bars, just watching her walk past them again and again.

He didn’t know how to ask for more. He didn’t know how to take.

He only knew how to give—gently, completely, and in silence.

And maybe that was why she’d never see him.

Not really.

Because no one ever looks too closely at the quiet ones.

They just assume they’ll always be there.

Standing in the dark.

Waiting.

And Cyrus... he always was.

...

"You should go inside and rest. I’ll deal with this," Kian said, his voice low, calm, and final as his eyes flicked down to Isabella.

He looked like a king giving orders. Stern jaw, cold eyes, one arm protectively half around her like he’d snap the neck of anyone who even breathed wrong in her direction.

Isabella squinted up at him, clearly not impressed.

"But—" she started, already stepping forward with that signature sass she carried like perfume.

"No buts," he cut in sharply, raising one brow like he’d rehearsed this speech in the mirror. "I won’t let you stay up late."

That alone made Isabella pause. Kian? Telling her when to sleep?

His tone wasn’t angry—just deeply parental, the kind that said: I will drag you to bed myself and tuck you in like you’re five.

Isabella folded her arms across her chest.

"And what if I’m not sleepy?" she asked flatly.

"You’ll pretend to be," Kian replied, completely unfazed. "You’ve done enough. For me. For everyone. You shouldn’t have to carry more tonight."

And it was the way he said it that made her blink.

Because suddenly it wasn’t Kian the Lion king talking—it was just Kian. The man who actually noticed when she looked tired. The one who remembered. Who watched her. And not because she was useful.

Because she was her.

His gaze softened slightly. "It’ll be fine," he added, and she could tell he meant it.

But before Isabella could respond with her well-prepared five-point thesis on why she was absolutely not going to bed, a voice dripped into the conversation like honey on hot stone.

"Yes, love. It’ll be fine."

Zyran.

Of course.

His voice came from somewhere behind her, smooth and cocky like he’d been waiting hours to make an entrance.

Isabella didn’t even have time to roll her eyes before he appeared—crouching suddenly to her height, his face popping up right beside hers like a raccoon in a trash can.

"Let’s go sleep," he added, grinning wide.

Her head snapped back so hard she nearly dislocated her neck.

"AH! Zyran!"

His face was this close. Like dangerously close. If he so much as exhaled, his breath would’ve touched her lips. If he tilted his chin, he could’ve stolen a kiss—and knowing him, that was definitely part of the plan.

Kian didn’t say a word, but a single sharp breath left him. Just one. The kind that made the air around them drop in temperature.

Zyran ignored it.

"Who is sleeping with you?" Isabella asked, clearly offended, clutching Kian’s arm like Zyran had just suggested an orgy in the temple.

Zyran blinked innocently. "What’s wrong with sleeping in the same room?"

"I’ll throw a rock at you," she muttered.

He tilted his head, all fake innocence and dimples. "Cyrus sleeps with you in that same room. So why can’t I?"

And that—that—was when her soul briefly left her body.

She blinked.

Twice.

The embarrassment crawled up her spine like a fever. Her whole face did a full 360 of confusion, horror, and panic.

How the hell did he even know that?!

Was he spying? Eavesdropping? Did he live in the vents like some kind of cursed ferret?

"T-there is nothing wrong with that because he is my brother!" she blurted, the lie flying out with so much speed even she choked on it.

Zyran’s eyes lit up.

He held her stare.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t even flinch.

He just stood there, grinning. Letting her spiral.

And then—

He smiled.

...

Announcement 📢

Y’all... I don’t know what possessed me to start a werewolf novel. Maybe the moon? Peer pressure? Insanity? Because tell me why I can’t write a single Chapter without cringing so hard I feel my soul leaving my body. 😭💀

And honestly? I think it’s time I stop following trends and start writing what I actually like. Something that feels me—chaotic, dramatic, a little unhinged, and totally unserious in the best way possible. (Yes, I’m talking about this new idea I’ve been cooking.)

So here’s the thing: I’ve been toying with the idea of starting a Christmas-themed modern romance. Not your usual snowflakes and cocoa stuff though—this one would be MESSY. Family drama, CEO tension, fake engagements, betrayal, and of course... a loud, unapologetically crazy female lead who talks too much and stays winning. Add in a good dose of comedy and you already know it’s going to be chaos with a bow on top. 🎄💅

But here’s the catch... Christmas web novels aren’t really a thing on this app. So I don’t even know if y’all would be into it. 😩

Still, I wanted to share this little brainworm of mine and hear what you all think. Should I go for it? Should we start something different? Should we bring Christmas early?

Let me know in the comments. I need validation and maybe a little therapy. 🎤😂