Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands
Chapter 132 --132

Chapter 132: Chapter-132

The men.

No matter how strong or dangerous they looked, her tribe’s men slept for 16 to 20 hours a day. They only woke up to eat... maybe hunt a little... then went right back to sleep. That left everything else—the real work—to the women.

They had to feed the cubs, defend the territory, fight off cheetah or tiger tribes that wanted to take their land. Even if the men hunted, it was never enough. The women had to fight. They had to protect. Always ready.

But the real issue wasn’t just the danger. It was the salt.

Their tribe used to have a salt spring, years ago. But it dried up. And now? That spring barely gives enough salt to fill one hand. And without salt... health started to crumble.

The old witch doctor had warned them: "Your people are sick because their bodies are starving for salt." But what could they do?

The children got the little salt they had. The adults drank blood to make up for it—but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

And Abaya?

All she knew was how to hunt, fight, and survive. Like every other lioness. But that wasn’t special. In a world where every beastman knows how to survive, hunt, and skin an animal... that wasn’t a skill. It was just surviving.

Yesterday, when her brother came running and told her that some woman gave him meat, Abaya didn’t think much of it.

But when he added, "It had salt," she froze.

Salt?

She didn’t believe it at first. So he offered her a small bite he’d saved. She tasted it.

And yes—he was right. It had salt. Real salt.

That moment, she knew—whoever this woman was, she wasn’t ordinary. Salt was rare. Precious. The kind of thing people hid, fought over, or protected with their lives. And yet this woman had put it in meat... and given it away? That meant only one thing—she had enough to spare.

So this morning, Abaya quietly followed her. She watched from a distance as Kaya moved through the market, shopping calmly. She didn’t see her exchanging salt, no surprise there. No one with a brain would do that in public. But the way Kaya carried herself, so focused, so composed—it only added to the mystery.

And when Kaya stopped at her stall, Abaya was genuinely surprised.

Why would someone like her need meat?

She’d heard the stories. The girl who took down the bull tribe men. The one walking around with Nikala beastmen like they were no different from anyone else. That kind of woman didn’t seem like she needed to buy meat.

Yet there she was—standing right in front of her stall.

And something else was odd too.

Abaya couldn’t place Kaya’s tribe. There was always a soft, earthy scent around her. Like the smell of rain hitting dry ground. Familiar. Soothing. A smell that made you stop and breathe for a second.

She didn’t know who Kaya really was.

But when Abaya saw Kaya for the first time... something strange happened.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She didn’t even understand why. Kaya’s eyes were partly hidden under that rough white cloth—honestly, it looked irritating to wear—but even then, Abaya felt her gaze. Strong, steady, unshakable. There was something in the way Kaya spoke, moved, or even just stood there... something that pulled Abaya in.

It was the same feeling she had felt long ago—when a new lion chief rose in their tribe. That mix of fear and admiration. Like no matter what, you’d follow that person into fire without asking why.

So, out of instinct, Abaya decided to test Kaya. To poke her, push her, see what kind of woman she really was.

But she hadn’t expected this.

Kaya didn’t just pass her test—she turned it around. And in the process, Kaya made it impossible for Abaya to keep hiding behind her mask. Just a few words, and it felt like Kaya had already seen straight through her.

That both scared her... and made her want to know more.

.

.

.

On the other side, the moment Kaya returned, everyone went silent.

They stared at the pile of things she brought—clothes, medicine, food—and didn’t know what to say. Even the usually expressionless Nikala tribe men looked stunned, their eyes flicking between each other and the supplies like they couldn’t believe it.

Kaya didn’t bother explaining.

She just glanced at Cutie, let out a tired sigh, and turned to leave. "Give each of them their clothes," she said, waving a hand. "Apply medicine, check if anyone needs anything. Feed them. If something’s missing... just go buy it."

With that, she walked toward the door.

Cutie blinked, confused. "Wait—where are you going?"

Kaya paused mid-step, stretched her arms over her head with a long yawn, and muttered, "Nowhere. Just off to find a place to sleep. Don’t disturb me."

And with that, she disappeared outside like a ghost on a mission for peace.

Outside, the air felt cooler. Not the kind of chill that made you shiver—just enough to brush past your skin and remind you that you were still standing.

Kaya walked slowly, not with any purpose, but more like someone trying to walk the weight off their shoulders. Her body ached, not from wounds—but from exhaustion. The kind that settled deep, bone-tired, mind-numb.

She found her way to a quiet spot behind the same tree she had climbed before. The shade was still there, peaceful, undisturbed. She leaned against the trunk, slid down until she was sitting, and finally let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Her fingers rubbed gently between her brows.

"Fifteen people," she muttered to herself. "Fifteen mouths. Fifteen futures. And only one me."

She chuckled bitterly.

Who would’ve thought she’d become the caretaker of a forgotten tribe overnight?

Kaya tilted her head back, looking up through the leaves. Sunlight filtered in soft patches. It felt warm, almost comforting. Her eyelids grew heavier by the second.

"Just a short nap," she whispered.

And slowly, sleep started to take her