"
Is this some kind of crazy... tribal status thing?
" Isabella muttered under her breath, scanning their arms.
Her gaze flickered from one male to the next. She wasn't sure what those marks meant—some had two lines, some had one, and others had none—but she knew one thing for sure.
Whatever was happening here, it was going to end soon. She wasn't going to sit around and let things happen to her.
But God, she was exhausted.
Her entire body ached from wandering aimlessly for hours, and she felt—no, she
knew—
she looked like a complete disaster. She had always prided herself on her appearance, but right now? Right now, she looked like a woman who had fought a war with the jungle and lost miserably.
Her expensive golden-blonde hair, once glossy and styled to perfection, now hung in tangled, greasy clumps. Her once-flawless skin was streaked with dirt, her designer clothes long gone, replaced by a makeshift outfit of poorly-stitched animal hide that
itched
. The damn thing smelled like a wet dog had rolled in something foul and then died.
And speaking of smells...
She stank.
She didn't even need a mirror to confirm it—she could
feel
the grime on her skin. It clung to her like a second layer, and every movement sent a fresh wave of sweat and filth wafting up to her nose.
Disgusting
.
Isabella had never in her life gone more than a few hours without a shower. Now, she didn't even want to think about how long it had been.
As she trudged forward, her leafy, makeshift sandals flopping awkwardly against the dirt, she was dimly aware of the way people were staring.
No—
not
people.
Beastmen.
Tall, muscular,
inhumanly
beautiful men with sharp features, piercing eyes, and... animal ears. Some had tails, others had horns, and some had markings across their skin.
It was like she had walked straight into a fantasy novel.
The whispers started almost immediately.
"What is that?"
"Is she... one of us?"
"No way. Look at her. She looks... unwell."
"I've never seen someone so—"
"Smelly."
The last voice cut through everything, and Isabella stiffened.
Oh, hell no.
She knew she looked bad, but
smelly
?! How
dare
they?!
Her lips curled into a scowl, but before she could snap at anyone, she noticed something else—the men were
not
looking at her the way men
usually
did.
She was used to admiration, awe, and maybe a little bit of obsession.
This?
This was
fear
.
Isabella blinked as she took in their expressions—wide eyes, cautious stances, even a few subtle steps
backward
.
A flicker of irritation sparked in her chest.
Excuse me?
What the hell were they scared of?
She
was the one surrounded by
them
!
Her frustration only grew when she noticed some of the women in the crowd. Unlike the men, they weren't afraid at all. In fact, they looked downright smug.
One woman, a brunette with wild, curly hair and sharp eyes, smirked at her. "Looks like someone got
dragged
through the forest."
A few others giggled, covering their mouths as they whispered to each other.
Isabella's left eye twitched.
Alright. That's it.
She
needed
to prove that this was all fake.
She needed to find the mastermind behind this elaborate joke, rip those stupid fake ears off someone's head, and demand an explanation.
Her eyes scanned the crowd before locking onto her target.
A male standing off to the side.
Unlike the others, he wasn't engaged in the festivities. He stood rigidly, shoulders stiff, almost as if he
didn't
want to be noticed.
Isabella's lips curled.
Perfect.
She stormed toward him, her steps fueled by irritation and exhaustion.
Each step sent dust puffing into the air, making her already ragged outfit look even worse. Her hair flopped wildly around her, some strands sticking to her sweaty face.
The closer she got, the more
wrong
this felt.
The man... the
Beastman
—had deer-like ears.
Deer ears?
Seriously?
He had an awkwardly nervous posture, his gaze darting around as if looking for an escape route.
Oh,
he knew he was caught.
Isabella smirked.
She stopped right in front of him, planting her hands on her hips.
"Are these real?"
The poor man flinched.
Isabella raised a brow.
Oh?
Why was he acting like she had just threatened his life?
Not waiting for an answer, she reached up and
grabbed
his ears.
The Beastman
froze
.
She pulled.
Nothing.
She pulled
harder
.
Still nothing.
Her smirk faltered.
Okay. No big deal. They probably used some
really
strong glue. She just needed to pull harder.
And so, she yanked.
The Beastman let out a strangled noise—a mixture of panic and
pain.
Isabella scowled. "Oh, quit being a baby. Just take them off and tell me who's behind this."
He
shook.
His entire body
trembled
under her grasp, and when she finally let go, he stumbled
backward
so fast he almost tripped.
The fear in his eyes was unmistakable.
Isabella's smirk disappeared completely.
Slowly, she reached out again, this time more gently.
She ran her fingers over the base of his ears.
Warm.
Attached.
... Oh.
Her breath hitched.
Her hand snapped back like she had been burned, and she took a sharp step away from him.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as her mind finally,
finally
caught up.
This wasn't fake.
These weren't prosthetics.
They were
real
.
A strangled noise escaped her throat—half gasp, half strangled scream—as she stumbled backward, her foot catching on a rock.
She landed hard on her butt.
The clearing went
dead
silent.
Every Beastman stared at her.
The deer-eared man rubbed his ears, looking at her with something between confusion and
horror.
Isabella's breathing turned shallow.
Oh my god.
She had assaulted a real man.
A
real
Beastman.
This wasn't a prank.
This wasn't a dream.
This was—this was—
Her entire body locked up.
A deep, looming dread settled in her stomach.
She swallowed hard, barely noticing the way the other Beastmen slowly began inching closer.
Their eyes weren't just filled with curiosity anymore.
There was something
else
.
Something dark.
Something
hungry
.
Isabella's mouth went dry.
She wasn't sure what was worse—the fact that she had just made a complete fool of herself...
Or the fact that she was now trapped in a circle of very real, very
predatory
men.
And none of them looked ready to let her go.