The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1848

Dalton, who had forced his way into the formation, had no memories of the outside world. To him, the version of him inside the formation was the real one, and that was indisputable. It was as if, in every formation, he had been trying to keep her there.

In truth, too much time had passed, so much that even he had forgotten that every fragment of his spiritual form was tied to the formations she would enter. This was no coincidence. He had known she would come, and so he had waited for her in every formation.

She would only appear in those tied to her. This was something he had deduced long ago, a layer of meaning no one else could decipher.

All Earthbound Formations were interconnected, no matter their size or duration. Their formation masters were nothing more than a group of people trapped in the cycle of their obsessions.

As the only lucid one, Dalton would inevitably grow weary, repeating the same actions day after day. That loneliness was something no one could truly understand. Yet even so, he had made this choice just for the chance to reunite with Wynter, no matter the era.

But now that Dalton had entered the formation, he had forgotten all of this. Inside the formation, the spiritual form dictated everything. And the him of the past had never experienced loss.

There was only one thought in his mind—to keep Wynter, no matter the cost.

Amid the churning mist, he revealed his spiritual manifestation. Chants thundered, shaking the very earth beneath them.

Wynter had long been prepared for his appearance, but she hadn't expected him to arrive like this.

At the same time, she knew one thing for certain. With him here, there was a chance this formation could be stopped. After all, this time, she had guessed his true identity.

The Arcane Way followed nature, yet the heavenly law could overturn the Realms of Reincarnation.

She looked at him, her fingers brushing his cheek in an attempt to calm him. "I didn't abandon you. The real you is outside the formation."

"Oh?" Dalton arched a brow, his lips curling into a gentle yet dangerous smile as he let out a soft laugh. "Why is the one outside real? How sure are you that I'm not?"

The question made Wynter's heart skip a beat. The Dalton before her was undeniably perilous. He even carried an inexplicable air of dark allure. It reminded her of that time in Hawford's formation, when he had also tried to keep her trapped inside.

He wasn't joking when he said he had no intention of letting her leave.

Wynter glanced at the wrist he held captive, then at the overwhelming presence he exuded, and inwardly cursed.

She could handle anyone, even her own obsessions. But she knew better than anyone how ruthlessly calculating he could be.

Escaping Dalton's grasp wouldn't be easy, but today was her last chance. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to leave the formation after this. Knowing him as she did, he wouldn't give her another opportunity.

Her profile remained cool, but a flicker of emotion passed through her eyes.

Dalton pressed her against the only intact wall, pinning her wrist with one hand as his burning gaze locked onto hers.

"Why won't you stay? If you do, your sage, your seniors, and even that Mr. Winston you're worried about will all remain. You know they'll all disappear if the formation breaks."

Including him. But he didn't say that last part aloud.

Seeing how little she seemed to care, he almost didn't want to hear the answer.

He should have refused when she first brought him up the mountain. She was just one cultivator among countless others. There were plenty who would beg for his affection, so there was no reason for him to fixate on a woman whose heart didn't belong to him.

And yet, he couldn't let go. He had tried, yet he just… couldn't do it.

Dalton leaned in, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. "I'm losing my patience. I'll give you one last chance to choose. Don't test me further."

Wynter frowned slightly, feeling his breath against her neck. It was as if one wrong word from her would have him sinking his teeth into her skin.

The him right now knew nothing. That was why he just wanted her to stay. Additionally, there were faint wisps of black mist curled around him.

It was residue from Granville Village. Wynter's gaze sharpened as she recognized it. That was the consequence of bearing resentful energy.

Her eyes snapped back to his.

He had always been detached, never one to meddle in others' affairs. But that day in Granville Village, the vanishing grim spirits had all been dealt with by him.

No matter how natural the Arcane Way was, even the heavenly law couldn't disrupt cause and effect. So, he…

Wynter blinked, her gaze dropping to the blood staining his robes. Her first instinct was to take control as she checked his injuries. "You're bleeding. Calm down and listen to me."

Dalton stilled at her concern.

Wynter's eyes lifted before her lips brushed the back of his hand, her voice soft. "I don't want to make you angry. You have no idea how much medicine I've used to treat you when we were outside."

Dalton's pupils constricted slightly, as if he'd realized something. His grip loosened. Where her lips had touched, his skin burned. It was a sensation he'd never experienced before.

"You—" From youth to adulthood, the only time Dalton had encountered anything like this was during that encounter with the Sablemare in Granville Village.

He had never truly understood the pull of physical desire. And yet, as if she knew exactly where his weakness lay, she pressed closer. This time, her lips grazed his neck.

"Now I finally understand why your blood has always been so intoxicating to me," Wynter whispered.

He didn't understand, but his body reacted before his mind could, pressing her harder against the wall as he caught her movements with one hand.

Wynter took in his expression, a smile curling at the edges of her eyes. "I used to believe they were just dreams. But now it seems you really might have imprisoned me before. When would that have been?"

Though Dalton couldn't grasp her meaning, his razor-sharp logic remained intact.

Cold and composed, he replied, "When you disobeyed. Like now."

Wynter studied him, a complicated glint in her eyes. She had never seen him like this—dark, domineering, maddening, yet irresistibly captivating. And, though he didn't realize it, pure.

This might be her only way out.

"Then, are you planning to lock me up now?" she murmured, lazily looping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her eye level.

Dalton had never been this close to anyone before. Even in the past few days together, she had never initiated contact like this.

If not for the fact that his spiritual manifestation could reveal all malevolent spirits, he might have suspected that damned Sablemare had returned. But the warmth beneath his fingertips confirmed that this was no illusion. She was the one seducing him.

Dalton's gaze swept over her, his voice as composed and low as ever, even as he restrained himself. "You're plotting an escape."

"I—" Before Wynter could speak, Dalton cut her off.

"Don't play games." His voice was deep and hypnotic. "You won't get away."

Fabian exhaled. "Yes. I can't take risks when it comes to Wynter, even if there's only a sliver of truth to it. He wants to meet at a café this afternoon."

Kaspar considered this. "Send me your address. I'll accompany you."

Then, he hung up.

If Kaspar had disclosed Wynter's situation outright, the consequences could've been worse.

He glanced at the unconscious Dalton. "Dalton, you'd better hurry. If we don't get Wynter back soon, not only will the Quinnell family be in trouble, but even Colifernia won't be safe, either."

His phone chimed with the hotel address Fabian had sent him. Turning to Keane, he instructed, "Watch him closely. If he wakes up, contact me immediately."

Keane nodded. "Understood, Mr. Stavius."

With that, Kaspar took the elevator down and hailed a taxi.

He gave the driver the address, and as the car pulled away, the driver grinned. "Sir, are you doing cosplay? You really look the part. You're just like a cultivator."

Kaspar blinked. "What?"

The driver chuckled. "You know, dressing up. With that outfit, I bet you'd get customers if you set up a fortune-telling stall."

Kaspar deadpanned, "If I set up a stall, the line would stretch from Colifernia to Hawford."

The driver laughed. "You've got a sense of humor, sir. These days, even fortune tellers are struggling with business."

Kaspar studied the driver's reflection in the rearview mirror. "Young man, your brow carries purple energy. You'll reach new heights soon."

The driver scratched his head. "What heights? Just trying to make ends meet with this cab."

As they arrived, Kaspar paid and added, "You'll meet a benefactor. I never lie."

The driver waved it off. "Sure, sure. I believe you."

Kaspar watched the taxi drive away. He'd foreseen a crossroads in the driver's fate. It was a choice between virtue and vice. The outcome rested solely on the man's decisions.

Following the directions given by Fabian, Kaspar arrived at the door. He had barely knocked when the door swung open.

The two men locked eyes for a brief moment before Fabian broke the silence. "Mr. Stavius, I didn't ask in the call earlier, but is Wynter really in danger?"

Kaspar sighed. "Mr. Quinnell Senior, Wynter's fine. Trust me, she'll return soon."

He knew the Sacrificial Human Formation would be useless against Dalton. But as for the reason for the delay, only Dalton himself knew.

Fabian straightened as he composed himself. "Alright, I trust you. Let's go to the café now."

The two walked side by side as the chauffeur pulled the car up to the hotel entrance. Once they got in, the vehicle slowly started moving toward the café.

Before long, they arrived at the café. At the entrance, Kaspar patted Fabian's left shoulder and said, "Mr. Quinnell Senior, you can agree to his terms, but as for when to act on them, that's up to you."