Spoiled By My Nine Beast Husbands (Emma Tibarn) novel Chapter 290

**When She Opened the Door to the Life She Was Afraid to Live by Nora Vale Kingsley**
**Chapter 290: Morning Teasing**

The crispness of the morning air was sharp, yet Remy felt an unexpected warmth enveloping him, cocooned within the soft strands of his father’s hair. It was a peculiar comfort, one that made the chill outside seem distant and unimportant.

Drake, noticing the way Remy shifted and squirmed, turned to him with a teasing smile. “We’re heading over to Emma’s place to play the pity card. Are you feeling cold?” His voice was laced with a playful tone, and he reached into his storage band, pulling out a shimmering golden scale. He draped it over his son, its warmth radiating like sunlight breaking through a cloudy sky.

Playing the pity card? The phrase danced in Remy’s mind, and curiosity bubbled within him. He hopped up, his small, dark blue body colliding gently with the golden scale. “Daddy, what kind of scale is this?” he asked, wide-eyed with wonder.

As the scale settled around him, the biting cold seemed to evaporate, leaving him snug and content.

Drake chuckled softly, shaking his head in bemusement. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I just know it’ll keep you warm. If you like it, then it’s all yours.” The scale had been tucked away in his storage band for ages, its origin lost to time, yet he felt a strange attachment to it.

“Thank you, Daddy! I absolutely love this golden scale!” Remy exclaimed, his voice bubbling with joy.

Before long, they arrived at Emma’s resting palace, a place that felt both serene and sacred. Drake paused at the entrance, contemplating. Instead of stepping inside, he chose a patch of ground just outside the door and settled down, his posture relaxed yet purposeful.

Remy tilted his head, a frown creasing his brow. “Daddy, aren’t we supposed to go play the pity card for Mommy?” His innocent confusion was palpable, and Drake couldn’t help but smile at his son’s straightforwardness.

“We are playing it,” he whispered, leaning closer to impart his wisdom. “Emma’s resting right now, and we can’t disturb her. When she wakes up tomorrow and sees us waiting here quietly, she’ll definitely feel sorry for us.” The strategy was clever, a lesson learned from the “Embrace of the Moon,” where playing the victim was an art form.

“Oh!” Remy’s eyes sparkled with understanding, and he snuggled back into Drake’s hair, a satisfied yawn escaping his lips. “Daddy, I’m sleepy. I think I’ll take a nap first.” He was still just a little fruit, blissfully unaware of the intricacies of adult emotions and the game of love.

Drake listened to the soft, babyish tones of his son’s voice, the gentle weight of him nestled against him. He couldn’t resist reaching out, brushing his fingers lightly against Remy’s back. “Sleep well, little one,” he murmured, a protective warmth enveloping both of them as they settled into the moment.

As the night melted away into dawn, the world outside began to stir.

The next morning, Emma found herself cocooned in the warmth of Lucien’s embrace, nestled comfortably against him. The moment she stirred, the man beside her awoke with a start, his eyes snapping open as if she were the sun breaking through the horizon.

“Emma, you’re awake?” Lucien’s voice was low, a rich timbre thick with the remnants of sleep.

She lifted her head, meeting his gaze, but before she could utter a single word, his lips found hers with an urgency that took her breath away. What began as a gentle, fleeting touch quickly deepened into a passionate kiss, one that seemed to erase the boundaries of the night before.

His arm tightened possessively around her waist, pulling her closer, while his other hand slid through her hair, cradling the back of her neck. The kiss grew more consuming, an intoxicating dance that left Emma breathless.

“Mmm…” A soft protest escaped her lips, but it was swallowed whole by the warmth of his kiss, her drowsiness dissipating like mist in the morning sun.

Time seemed to stretch as Lucien finally released her, his gaze lingering on her flushed cheeks. Emma’s eyes sparkled, her breaths coming in quick, shallow puffs, and she shot him a playful glare that was more pout than reprimand.

“Teasing me first thing in the morning,” she scolded softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The intensity of their connection was overwhelming, especially when they hadn’t yet fully bonded.

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