The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1869

When unconscious, one perceived nothing but darkness.

Yet, the return of a living soul was different. One could faintly hear the Twin Reaper whispering among themselves or even catch phrases like "The underworld guards are reaping souls, and the living shall keep away." These warnings were meant for those whose souls had strayed from their bodies.

Those with weaker horoscopes, especially children, might run high fevers in April. Or, while asleep, they might dream of unfamiliar, eerie landscapes. These might be due to them accidentally wandering onto the Path of the Dead, prompting those cautionary whispers.

Families, recognizing the signs, would often perform spirit summoning rituals or seek spiritual help. This was what folk traditions referred to as "the frightened child", sometimes remedied by burning spirit money.

But unlike ordinary cases of a living soul returning, Wynter was fully conscious, just as Dalton had appeared in the underworld while riding the spirit vehicle to get there.

Normally, those whose souls were being called back wouldn't be on that bus. Instead, one would find people like Argus, those whose energy was so depleted that, due to magnetic disturbances, they attracted the attention of dark forces.

The evil spirits on the bus had somehow slipped past the underworld guards. They drove their spirit vehicle through the mortal realm, wreaking havoc and seeking replacements for their own tormented fates.

Running into Dalton was their worst misfortune, but for Argus, it meant a second chance at life.

So, whether it was Dalton or Wynter, their paths back were not the same. Even if they had traveled together, they would be left alone, leaving only a vast white mist beside them in the blink of an eye.

This mist was different from the fog over the River of Forgetfulness in Krishaven—it was more like the morning haze of a mountain village. Anyone who had lived in the countryside knew that dawn was near when such mist appeared.

Yet, the scene before Wynter wasn't a village, but the exterior of a hospital she had never seen before.

Logically, even if her soul were to linger outside a hospital, it should have been the one in Colifernia where her spirit first detached. Yet clearly, this wasn't that hospital.

This place was far more bustling because it stood at the heart of downtown. The Crownbank Headquarters, the Bank of Cascadia, and other iconic structures blazed with light, encircling it.

In the distance, neon signs flickered and pulsed, while the Twilight Cruise glided slowly across the water, their hulls aglow, mirroring the skyscrapers' radiant facades along the shore.

Wynter's brow arched slightly.

Was this Vidorra Port? Was she in Havenia? Why had she ended up here?

Wynter narrowed her eyes. She knew lingering too long outside her body was harmful. Time was running out, and she had to return before dawn. But what was the purpose of her being here?

She clenched her right hand and stepped forward, the white mist curling through the streets.

Since her priority was a swift return, she saw no reason to delay and intended to teleport. After the Sacrificial Human Formation, her mastery of the Arcane Way had recovered by 90 percent. Such feats were effortless for her now.

But before she could even raise her hand to inscribe the spell, a young girl collided with her from behind.

The child, no older than five or six, looked utterly terrified. Her face was pale as she glanced up, her eyes widening when she realized she'd bumped into someone.

"I'm sorry, miss! I've been running and running, but I can't find my way out. Daddy and Mommy disappeared all of a sudden. They won't answer me, no matter how much I call for them!"

Was this a living soul?

Wynter lowered her gaze but didn't immediately answer the girl. The first thing she noticed was the lucky token bracelet around her wrist. Such bracelets were usually enchanted by cultivators and were expensive.

But it also told her this child must have a habit of soul detachment, hence why her parents made sure she wore it at all times. Plus, she had merit clinging to her.

Wynter's raised hand shifted, instead resting gently on the girl's head. Her voice softened. "Little one, your mommy and daddy aren't ignoring you. You just took a wrong turn."

"A wrong turn?" Jules Maynerd's small face scrunched in confusion. "But I was walking straight home!"

Wynter swept a hand past her eyes. "Look again. Is this still the way home?"

Jules blinked, stunned as the scenery around her shifted—everything was now pitch black.

"No... this isn't right." Her voice wavered with panic. "But—but something was chasing me! They wanted to grab me! What do I do now?

"Mommy and Daddy will be so worried if they can't find me... I promised I'd wait at the kindergarten gate after school. I wasn't supposed to go anywhere, not with strangers!"

Kneeling to meet her eyes, Wynter nodded. "You did the right thing. Who was chasing you?"

"Over there!" Jules pointed toward a shadowed alley.

Just moments ago, something foul was lurking there, coiled and waiting. Yet, the instant Jules clung to Wynter, it seemed to have sensed something and vanished instantly.

Wynter didn't believe that was a coincidence. Her mind flickered to the recent lapses in the underworld's order before studying Jules again.

"Close your eyes. I'll send you home."

"Send me home?" Jules tilted her head. "How?"

A faint smile curved Wynter's lips as she lifted her red-threaded hand, pressing a fingertip to Jules' brow. "Like this. Be a good girl now. Sleep and think of your mommy and daddy. Go back where you belong..."

Jules nodded drowsily, murmuring as she drifted off, "I need to be healthy when I see her..."

Celestine's gaze lifted to meet Driscoll's.

Stepping out of the ward, Driscoll turned to his assistant. "Find her. From Jules' description, she's young and clearly versed in the Arcane Way. Whoever she is, she's the Maynerd family's greatest benefactor!"

"Understood."

...

In a hospital room in Colifernia, Dalton was the first to wake up.

Perhaps it was because he hadn't moved for too long, but even the slightest movements of his fingers seemed sluggish as he lay on the hospital bed. His long lashes fluttered faintly, but the motion was barely noticeable.

Yet, even with all that, she never imagined that in the brief moment she turned to replace the nutrient bag, the impossibly handsome Dalton would disappear from his bed.

She had, of course, reviewed the patient's file. She knew Dalton was the young, accomplished head of a major conglomerate with business ventures even overseas.

She had grown accustomed to seeing him lying motionless on the bed. So, when she turned back to find the bed empty, she nearly screamed in panic, wanting to alert Keane, who was waiting outside.

Just then, she spotted Dalton. He was still in the room, just not where he was supposed to be. He had moved to the adjacent bed.

The patient on that bed, Wynter, was even more unusual. According to the hospital director, she wasn't actually ill, so no special medication was required.

Even so, the nurse had never seen anyone who could embody both an icy detachment and a bewitching allure so effortlessly. Yet, Wynter pulled it off flawlessly.

Even in slumber, her presence was overwhelming, and the tear mole beneath her eye always made the nurse pause for an extra glance whenever she wiped her face.

"How long has she been asleep?"