Spoiled By My Nine Beast Husbands (Emma Tibarn) novel Chapter 131

**When She Opened the Door to the Life She Was Afraid to Live by Nora Vale Kingsley**
**Chapter 131: A Little Promise**

Emma held Edric’s gaze, her demeanor serene and resolute.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep it small. I’ll be fine,” she reassured him, her voice soft yet firm.

But Edric felt a painful constriction in his chest at her words.

Her unwavering confidence touched him deeply, yet he found it impossible to accept her promise without voicing his concerns.

“Emma,” he began, his tone deliberate and measured, “if I were to take your blood when I ascend, what becomes of Corvin? And Silas?”

His voice grew taut, filled with an urgency that echoed his inner turmoil.

“When it’s their turn, will you offer the same sacrifice to them?”

He paused, his breath hitching in his throat, the weight of the implications heavy in the air.

“And when Marcus and Malrik return—if they wish to bond with you as well—are you prepared to bleed for them too?”

“I…”

Emma’s thoughts momentarily froze, caught off guard by the intensity of Edric’s questions.

Her mind went blank, a sudden void where clarity once resided.

Because, deep within, she had pondered this very issue.

She understood the rarity of her blood, the power it held, and yet, she grappled with the knowledge that this was not the right path to tread.

Once a thread was pulled, it was nearly impossible to stop the unraveling.

If she chose to give her blood to one and deny the others, it would never feel equitable.

The first time she had offered her blood to Silas, it had been a mistake born of ignorance.

She hadn’t known his true nature.

In her naiveté, she had thought him merely a quiet, sacred tree—silent and unassuming.

But when Silas awakened, everything shifted.

After that moment, offering him a few more drops seemed trivial in comparison.

Yet Lucien was an entirely different matter. Their bond was tangible, a connection forged through the beast mark, allowing her to sense every flicker of his affection for her.

With this bond, she realized she could wield power over his very life or death.

And then there was Edric. He stood apart from the rest. She had given him her blood because she trusted him implicitly.

“Emma,” he said, his voice steady yet filled with emotion, “I know you care about me. About all of us.”

He held her gaze, his expression softening. “We love you, and you simply wish to reciprocate that love.”

He inhaled deeply, the weight of his words heavy in the air. “But love isn’t equal, Emma. It never has been. We don’t need you to prove your love through sacrifice.”

His voice deepened, becoming firm and serious. “If we all have to rely on your blood to rise, then we’re no better than the beasts who harm human women.”

Emma felt a tightening in her chest as his words sank in, cold and penetrating like a winter chill.

She hadn’t considered the situation in that light before.

Edric lowered himself to one knee, his eyes filled with unwavering determination.

“Emma, I’ll rise with my own strength. You just have to believe in my ability to do so.”

Her heart softened at his earnestness, and her voice became gentle. “I believe in you, Edric.”

In that moment, she recognized the error in her thinking.

She had yearned to repay their kindness, to envelop them all in the same warmth she felt.

But some debts could not be settled in that manner.

She was fortunate that Edric had halted her before she could make a choice that might have complicated their bond.

Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the door, followed by Lucien’s voice. “Emma, it’s dinner time.”

He still hadn’t mastered the culinary arts. She suspected he might not even know what she craved for dinner tonight.

Then, reaching into her storage band, she retrieved a small, glowing bottle. The glass shimmered softly under the kitchen lights, a treasure from her past.

It was her last bottle of homemade fruit wine.

Both Lucien and Edric leaned in closer, curiosity etched on their faces.

Lucien tilted his head, intrigued. “What’s that?”

Emma beamed with pride. “Fruit wine.”

The words fell flat for them, as the interstellar empire had nothing quite like it.

Therians could cook, some of them with skill, but their culinary offerings were far from gourmet.

Despite their brilliance—advanced weaponry, dazzling cities, and opulent lifestyles—alcohol had become a relic of a forgotten era.

“People here drink water, fruit juice, or sometimes exotic teas brewed from alien plants. But wine? That’s something lost to time,” Emma explained, her voice laced with nostalgia.

“This one’s homemade,” she continued. “Want a taste?”

Edric blinked, his expression one of surprise.

“Fruit wine?”

He had assumed it was merely juice—sweet and harmless.

“Sure,” he replied easily, his curiosity piqued.

Lucien moved to grab three cups from the shelf.

They weren’t wine glasses, but they were beautifully crafted from glowing crystal, adding a touch of elegance to the occasion.

Emma poured a modest amount into each cup, aware that these therians had never experienced alcohol before, so she refrained from overfilling.

Not too much—just enough for a taste.

Then, she filled her own glass nearly to the brim, knowing her tolerance was greater than theirs.

“Alright,” she said brightly, raising her glass in a toast. “Let’s celebrate this moment together.”