Spoiled By My Nine Beast Husbands (Emma Tibarn) novel Chapter 256

**Chapter 256: The Rabbit’s Secret**

Corvin, Edric, and Marcus stood paralyzed in the sterile hospital room, their hearts pounding with a rhythm of dread as the doctor stepped away from Emma’s bedside. The air felt heavy with unspoken fears, and the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting an eerie glow on the scene.

Corvin’s voice trembled, cracking under the weight of his anxiety. “How is Dr. Fowler?” he managed to ask, desperation lacing his words.

Jamal hesitated, his expression grave as he lowered his gaze, unable to meet their eyes. “I’ve done everything I can. Her condition keeps worsening. If we can’t find another way soon… she might only have a few weeks left.” His voice was steady, but the words hung in the air like a death sentence.

“No. You’re wrong,” Corvin protested, a surge of panic clawing at his insides.

He pressed his palms against his face, trying to block out the reality of the situation. “Emma’s not going anywhere,” he choked out, his voice breaking with emotion.

In that moment, rage ignited within him, raw and unfiltered. He shoved Jamal toward the door, his frustration boiling over. “You call yourself a doctor? Get out—now!” The words were a harsh command, fueled by an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

Edric moved closer to the bed, his heart aching as he grasped Emma’s cold hand, feeling the life slipping away from her. “Emma, I swear, I won’t let this happen. I’ll find a cure, whatever it takes,” he vowed, determination burning in his chest.

Marcus straightened beside him, his resolve solidifying. “Count me in. I’ll start looking too,” he declared, the urgency in his tone clear.

Without waiting for a response, both men rushed out of the room, their footsteps echoing down the sterile hallway, leaving behind a silence that felt almost suffocating.

The room fell quiet, the only sounds now were the soft beeping of the machines and the faint rustle of sheets.

Only Emma and the small pink rabbit remained, a curious creature perched by her side.

With great effort, she turned her head, her gaze locking onto the rabbit’s trembling form.

This was her moment.

With a gentle, deliberate motion, she lifted her hand, brushing her fingers over the rabbit’s soft, velvety fur. “Cotton Candy…” she whispered, a faint smile flickering across her lips.

“Squeak!” The rabbit chirped, its tiny paws pressing anxiously against her arm, as if it were saying, “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

Malrik, observing the color draining from Emma’s face, felt a surge of urgency. I can’t wait any longer. I need the Beast God’s fruit before it’s too late. The thought pulsed in his mind, a desperate plea for action.

Emma studied the creature’s frantic energy, a faint smile gracing her lips. “You’re not just a rabbit, are you?” Her voice was soft but filled with an undeniable certainty. “You’re a therian, right?”

The rabbit froze, its pupils widening in shock. She knows? How?

Her tone remained calm, even as her breath became more labored. “I’ve known for some time now. And I understand why you’ve been so close to me.”

The little creature’s fur trembled, a wave of panic washing over him. He had been so certain that his disguise was impenetrable, his secret well-guarded.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” Emma murmured, her voice soothing. “I’m not angry. I actually wanted to wait until you were ready to tell me yourself. But given… how I am right now—” She coughed, her voice trailing off as fatigue washed over her. “Time isn’t exactly on my side.”

Her next words came out as a whisper, fragile yet resolute. “Let me see you. Just once. Call it a dying wish.”

She forced a thin smile, a flicker of hope amidst despair. “You’re not my mate or follower, Cotton Candy. That’s a relief. At least if I’m gone, you’ll still be free.”

The rabbit suddenly lifted its head, a tremor in its voice as it spoke, “I’m sorry, Ms. Tibarn.”

His hair fell like black silk down his back, catching the light with every subtle movement, a stark contrast to the sterile environment around them. The face was familiar yet foreign, identical to Merlin’s, but devoid of the coldness and cruelty that had once defined it.

This version of him radiated warmth and danger all at once, an intoxicating blend that drew her in, making her breath hitch in her throat.

“Ms. Tibarn,” he spoke quietly, his head bowed in a gesture of remorse. “I’m sorry. I deceived you.”

The sound of his voice struck her like a pulse, reverberating through her very being.

He looked up, his dark eyes shimmering with guilt and unspoken longing. Where Merlin’s gaze had been sharp and calculating, Malrik’s was deep and open—like galaxies swallowed in shadow, inviting yet haunting.

Emma found herself unable to look away. The difference between them was stark; same face, entirely different presence. He had chosen to hide as a tiny pink rabbit, a choice both puzzling and endearing.

It was almost laughable. Nothing about that disguise suited him.

“Why hide behind a rabbit?” she asked softly, her curiosity piqued. “Why go through all that trouble?”

She observed the sadness and panic etched on Malrik’s face, piecing together the fragments of their shared history. It must be because of Merlin, she thought, the realization settling in her mind like a heavy stone.

Still, even if she had an inkling, she craved the truth from him.

Malrik’s lips parted, a pained smile flickering across his features.

“Because of Merlin,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I learned what he did to you. I carry his face. I didn’t want you to fear me the moment you saw it.”