Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands
Chapter 112 --112

Chapter 112: Chapter-112

"She’s a threat," his father declared, voice heavy and final.

But before the echo could settle, another voice sliced through the tension—silken, sharp, and unsettlingly amused.

"Threat?"

The air shifted.

Wings beat once in the sky above, and a figure descended with eerie grace—half-man, half-beast. Human form, yes, but with broad wings still spread behind him, feathers dark and sharp against the fading light.

It was Veer.

He landed softly, too softly for someone so large—like the ground itself bent to him. He stood tall, proud, and disturbingly calm as his feet touched the stone. His head tilted, and his glowing amber eyes swept across the gathering before settling—unflinching—on his father.

"Did you just call my sweetheart a threat... Dad?"

Silence swallowed the crowd.

The tribe stared. Shocked. Speechless.

It wasn’t just Veer’s tone—it was him.

His entire presence had changed.

He wore a cotton shirt tucked into a handmade cotton pant, its seams rough but fitted like he’d carved his own skin. A worn leather jacket hung open over his shoulders, foreign and out of place. Strange.

But most shocking of all—

His hair.

No longer brown.

Now black. Deep black. Unnaturally dark. But not just dyed—there was something in the way it moved, shimmered, as though threads within it did not belong to him.

His father’s eyes fixed on the strands. And then narrowed.

"You—" he started, voice full of demand.

But before he could speak further, Veer lifted a hand—slowly, deliberately—cutting his father off mid-sentence with an almost playful motion.

"Ah-ah," Veer murmured. "Let’s not ruin the moment."

He reached up, fingers brushing his hair, caressing it with possessive affection. He turned slightly, letting the strands fall over his eyes, his smile curling in the corners.

"Nice, isn’t it?" he asked softly. His voice dropped lower, warmer, twisted with adoration.

"It’s cool, isn’t it, dad?"

His eyes didn’t blink. They burned.

"It’s beautiful," he whispered, more to himself now. "Just like her."

The words were spoken with such reverence, it chilled the air more than any scream could.

The tribe didn’t speak. Didn’t breathe.

The silence after Veer’s words was brutal. Like the entire world held its breath.

Then—

"VEER!"

The shout tore through the air like a whip.

It wasn’t just a name—it was a father’s breaking point.

Veer’s father trembled, fists clenched, chest rising and falling with sharp, uneven breaths. Rage burned in his eyes—not the usual anger of discipline, but the deep kind that’s rooted in betrayal. The kind that only exists when someone you love goes too far.

"Have you gone mad?!" he roared.

His voice cracked. Not from weakness—but from a kind of stunned heartbreak he couldn’t mask.

Veer just stood there, still and calm, his dark hair catching the dying light.

His father stared at it—his son’s hair.

Not brown. Not their brown.

It was black. Artificial. Wrong. Unfamiliar.

It was her.

The identity, the pride, the lineage—Veer had stripped it away with a knife and replaced it with obsession.

"You’ve disgraced everything we stand for!" his father shouted, voice ragged. "That hair, that color—it’s who we are! Do you even understand what you’ve done?! What you’ve become?! CRAZY"

And in response—

Veer smiled.

A slow, crooked thing. One that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Ah," he said softly, like he’d been waiting for this moment. "So you finally noticed."

His smile faded.

He stepped forward. Unhurried. Intentional.

The space between them disappeared fast, but the air between them grew heavier, like even the oxygen knew something irreversible was happening.

Face to face now, Veer leaned in just a little, tilting his head as if to study the lines of disbelief on his father’s face.

"Crazy?" he echoed, almost amused.

He chuckled under his breath—once.

Then straightened up, met his father’s eyes, and said in a voice that chilled the blood in every vulture in the tribe—

"Nah. I’m a total psycho, Dad."

And he meant it.

Suddenly, Veer’s father fell silent.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath—long and heavy—trying to cool the fire that had been raging in his chest. The anger didn’t vanish, but it softened. Just a little.

He looked at his son again—this strange, changed boy in front of him. Black hair, glowing eyes, wearing clothes not made by their kind, and smiling like a man who had already walked through the fire and decided to stay there.

But even so... he was still his son. His youngest. His favorite, though he’d never admit that part aloud.

The moment his father sighed, the whole tribe noticed it.

The rage had cooled, but not out of defeat—out of resignation. Out of the bone-deep exhaustion of a father looking at a son who was no longer just wild, but untouchable.

He took a long breath, exhaled slowly, then looked at Veer with narrowed eyes.

"If you want that woman..." he muttered, voice low and hard. "Then just take her. Take her already. Why are you torturing yourself like this?"

The corners of Veer’s mouth twitched.

Then—he laughed. Low and amused, like he’d just been handed a joke with a sharp edge.

He stepped forward and hugged his father, tightly, deliberately, as if to say I heard you—but you still don’t understand a thing.

"Dad," he said, his voice soft but loaded with something almost dangerous, "Dad, Dad, Dad..."

He pulled back, that same unsettling smile curving his lips.

"If I could’ve just taken her," he said slowly, looking his father right in the eye, "do you really think I’d still be here wasting my time?"

He scoffed, straightened up, adjusted his jacket with a flick.

"She’s not like the rest," he said, voice dipping darker now.

He smiled again, and this time—there was no warmth in it. Just fire.

"If she were some ordinary, wide-eyed little bird, I’d have locked her up already. I’d have made her mine so fast she wouldn’t remember her own name."

Then, he turned back to his father, that smile sharpening like a blade.

"Have you forgotten," he said—loud and clear, so everyone could hear, "how she killed our brother?"