Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan

Ren swallowed hard.

Her panicked green eyes darted frantically back and forth like a spectator at a tennis match. On one side, Syris was glaring venomous daggers at the golden eagle beastman. On the other side, Altair was completely ignoring the Snake King’s glare, his silver eyes still locked in genuine, innocent fascination upon Syris’ exposed twin swords.

Ren’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her mind had gone entirely blank. She couldn’t form a single, coherent thought. She had an endless mountain of regrets at this exact moment, but the main one was approaching a highly territorial, depressed apex predator without a well-rehearsed, foolproof battle plan.

[System: Host, you really need to say something! Anything! The Snake King’s mood is worsening by the literal millisecond!]

Prompted by the System’s frantic warning, Ren clenched her eyes tightly shut, bracing herself for the inevitable explosion.

"This is Altair he is my mate too! Since recently!" Ren blurted out in a rapid-fire, breathless squeak.

Total silence blanketed the room.

After several agonizing seconds of absolutely nothing happening, Ren slowly, fearfully peeked one eye open to look at Syris.

The Snake King’s face was entirely blank. The seething, venomous rage from a moment ago had vanished, replaced by an expression Ren couldn’t even begin to read. Was he in shock? Was he calculating how to hide the eagle’s body in the swamp? Was he actually even angrier, having pushed past rage into terrifying tranquility?

Finally, Syris spoke, his voice dangerously soft and chillingly smooth. "Why did you bring him here?"

Ren opened both eyes, wringing her hands nervously. "I... I wanted him to meet you. It would be entirely unfair to both of you if I kept him a dirty secret. I don’t want to hide things from my husbands."

Syris said absolutely nothing in response. His amethyst eyes just stared at her, piercing right through her soul.

Ren had never, in her entire life, found herself in a more painfully awkward situation than this.

Before Ren could reach out to try and soothe the tension, Altair casually took a step forward.

To Ren’s shock, Syris actually took a cautious step backward.

Ren blinked, her jaw dropping slightly. Was Syris actually afraid of him?

"What is a Golden Eagle doing so far away from the high mountains?" Syris demanded directly to Altair, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the beastman. "Were you exiled?"

Altair’s handsome face held absolutely no expression. He looked at the Snake King and flatly replied, "I do not want to talk about myself."

Ren quietly hummed under her breath. Now she was completely, one-hundred-percent certain that Altair did not have an ounce of amnesia! The stubborn bird simply didn’t want anyone in his business! Sadly, that apparently included her.

As she watched the exchange, Ren realized something else: Altair wasn’t afraid of anyone. She had explicitly warned him about Syris and Kael—about their intense possessiveness, their strength, and their explosive tempers—yet he treated the terrifying Snake King absolutely no different than a regular, everyday beastman, saying whatever he wanted without a shred of hesitation.

[System: That is because Altair is actual Beast World royalty, Host. Absolute authority is his birthright. He does not bow to provincial Kings.]

’Does he hold more power than a Beast King?’ Ren asked, her curiosity piquing despite the terrifying standoff.

[System: It is a different hierarchy. Beast Kings earn their status either through brutal combat to the death against the previous ruler—which is how Syris claimed the swamp—or through natural promotion from their tribe recognizing their unmatched strength and character, which was Kael’s path.]

Ren’s stomach instantly twisted with a wave of guilt. Kael was no longer a Beast King, and it was entirely because of her selfishness.

’If a Beast King loses his status... can he ever become one again?’ Ren asked desperately.

[System: Perhaps.]

Ren firmly held onto that tiny glimmer of hope.

"You are quite rude," Syris hissed, pulling Ren back to the present. The Snake King crossed his muscular, peeling arms over his bare chest. "To enter someone’s home and refuse to answer their questions."

Both beastmen stared daggers at each other, the tension so thick you could cut it with a cast-iron skillet.

But as they glared, all Ren could actually think about was the undeniable, distracting fact that Syris was standing there completely naked, and Altair was rocking a tight dress, and both of them looked so damn, breathtakingly gorgeous. It was a visual feast of male perfection.

She also found it incredibly strange that Syris hadn’t threatened to kill Altair yet. He was speaking cautiously. As she watched Syris, she realized his amethyst eyes were filled with genuine, calculating curiosity, not necessarily blind animosity, and definitely no fear. Syris was actively searching Altair’s face, as if desperately trying to recall exactly where he had seen the Golden Eagle before.

Altair finally broke the staring contest.

"I came here about Ren, not myself," Altair stated. "I want to mate with her. And you are in the way of that."

Ren wanted to instantly melt into a liquid puddle and leak away through the dark cracks in the obsidian floor. Why in the world did Altair have to phrase it exactly like that?!

Syris’ brow slowly rose. A dark, possessive smirk curled his lips.

"Do you know she is here for me, and only me?" Syris challenged, taking a bold step toward the eagle. They were standing chest-to-chest now, exactly the same towering height. "You can share her in the forest with that stupid tiger. But here, in the swamp? She is mine, and mine alone."

Ren looked frantically between the two towering apex predators, completely unable to say a single word. She desperately tried to keep herself focused on the terrifying fact that they might start tearing each other apart, but her treacherous mind kept drifting straight into the gutter.

Unable to take the escalating tension, Ren finally moved.

She stepped right between them, placing one small hand on Syris’ bare, damp abdomen, and the other directly against Altair’s firm, fabric-covered abs, desperately trying to push them apart.

"Please," Ren pleaded, looking back and forth. "Do not fight."

Altair didn’t move an inch. He just looked at Syris and mumbled quietly under his breath, "Kael is better anyway."

Syris’ amethyst eyes instantly narrowed into venomous slits. He completely ignored the rest of the mumble, only picking up on the worst possible trigger phrase.

"What did you just say?" Syris demanded.

Ren was almost squashed between their massive, unyielding bodies. Syris was standing so incredibly close that his exposed twin swords were literally brushing warmly against the silk of her dress at her hip, while Altair’s rock-hard abs pressed firmly against her other side.

[System: Oh my! What a delicious predicament! You should just take one in the front and the other in the back, Host!]

’Shut up!’ Ren screamed internally, her thighs involuntarily clenching.

"I said," Altair accused, his voice rising with uncharacteristic bite, "that you do not care about what Ren actually wants, or how she feels. You only care about yourself and your weak ego."

Ren gasped. She had never, ever heard Altair speak this much in one sitting, much less actively jeer at someone!

"Are you afraid of the competition?" Altair taunted smoothly, tilting his head. "Is that why you forcefully hide away with her in this dark swamp? Because you know you cannot compare?"

Ren’s heart leaped into her throat. What in the world was he doing?!

"Altair, that’s enough!" Ren panicked, fully preparing to shove the bird backward before Syris lunged and ripped his throat out.

But suddenly....

[System: Wait, Host! Do not stop him! What Altair is doing is actually working!]