Spoiled By My Nine Beast Husbands (Emma Tibarn) novel Chapter 139

**When She Opened the Door to the Life She Was Afraid to Live by Nora Vale Kingsley**

**Chapter 139: Rules**

Lucien raised an eyebrow, watching as Marcus straightened his posture, a newfound resolve radiating from him.

“Just to be perfectly clear,” Marcus stated, his voice devoid of any inflection, “I will protect the huntress.”

He paused for a moment, his gaze narrowing as he continued, “I’ll deal with her troubles. But let me make one thing abundantly clear: I’m not here to clean up anyone else’s messes.”

His tone dropped to a near whisper, laced with a hint of irritation. “I’m not here to run errands.”

The thought crossed his mind—if his huntress refused to share her bed with him, he’d just retreat back into his icy coffin and take a long, undisturbed nap.

Lucien nodded, a casual smile gracing his lips. “That works for me.”

Family matters were family matters, and he had no intention of getting embroiled in the minutiae of their complications.

Once Emma signaled her acceptance of Marcus’s presence, he stood up, climbed back into his coffin, and waved lazily at Roshivo and the others who had accompanied him.

“My huntress has given her consent. Kindly leave the wedding gifts and make your exit.”

Roshivo froze, his smile suddenly rigid.

He dared not utter a single word; the last thing he wanted was to provoke Marcus into changing his mind.

For years, they had been praying for someone to take Marcus off their hands.

Whatever Marcus had said about dying—let Emma handle that. Frostveil had learned to tune out his dramatic proclamations.

Roshivo stepped forward, offering Emma a polite bow, his voice trembling with forced cheerfulness. “Ms. Tibarn, these black boxes are crafted from Frostveil’s unique shadowstone. All the gifts are securely sealed within.”

So that explained it—those eerie boxes were indeed Frostveil’s specialty.

Emma nodded, her mind already racing with thoughts. Then she turned to Lucien, her expression serious.

“Find someone to assist in checking every box and documenting their contents.”

As Emma made the call to enlist help for counting the wedding gifts, Roshivo wasted no time in making his exit.

He bowed deeply, his voice quivering with false enthusiasm. “Ms. Emma Tibarn, now that Prince Marcus has been safely delivered, I must take my leave. There are urgent matters awaiting me back home.”

“Congratulations to you and Prince Marcus on your marriage.”

Before anyone could respond, he shoved one of his men forward to oversee the counting and hurried away with the rest of his entourage.

They fled as if their very lives depended on it.

Emma watched them disappear, her brow furrowing deeper.

Something about their hurried exit felt deeply unsettling.

She turned her attention back to Marcus, who had once again settled into his crystal coffin, pulling the lid shut as if to shut out the world.

Lucien let out a weary sigh, rubbing his temples in frustration.

“We can’t just leave him lying there like a corpse. I’ll have someone move him to a more appropriate room in the back.”

“Please do that,” Emma replied quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

If Marcus was going to stay, it was only right that he not be treated like a mere exhibit in the hall.

Once Marcus was carried away, Emma finally turned her gaze to Drake, who still lingered, an air of uncertainty surrounding him.

Her tone was cool and polite, but there was an edge to it.

“Mr. Smith, is there something you require from me?”

**[Side Scene]**

Lucien leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper. “Perfect. Free muscle.”

From within the coffin, Marcus mumbled faintly, “Half-dead. Don’t count on me.”

“I crossed a line. I must take responsibility for my actions.”

Before Emma could respond, his lightcore blared to life with an urgent tone.

He initially ignored it, wanting to continue the conversation with Emma, but then Thero’s lightcore chimed in as well.

Thero glanced at the display, his face draining of color. “Mr. Smith, Ashenfall and Thunderland are in crisis.”

Drake cursed quietly under his breath, frustration boiling within him.

He didn’t want to leave—not now, not when he had so much to say.

But he had no choice.

He turned to Emma, his voice low and filled with regret. “I have to go. Once I resolve this situation, I promise I’ll come back for you.”

With that, he turned and strode off alongside Thero, urgency driving his every step.

Edric watched him disappear, confusion etched across his face.

“That makes no sense. Ashenfall and Thunderland have been quiet ever since he conquered them. What could’ve possibly gone wrong now?”

Silas paused, his brow furrowing as he considered the implications.

“Marcus left Frostveil, and Drake’s not in Aquadome. Two Rank 11s gone from the Four Domains simultaneously.”

His eyes narrowed, a realization dawning upon him. “The Chitinids must have caught wind of the situation and seized their opportunity.”

He glanced at Lucien, the tension palpable in the air.

The Four Domains had always maintained their independence, refusing to bow to the Empire’s authority.

But when one domain faltered, the others would inevitably tremble. If real trouble arose, the Empire couldn’t simply sit back and observe from a distance.

Lucien remained composed as he poured tea, the soft clink of porcelain resonating through the room. “Even if Marcus and Drake are absent, they are still the strongest forces we have,” he stated evenly.