The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1870

The voice that entered the nurse's ears was deep and pleasing to the ear. But perhaps because Dalton hadn't spoken in so long, his voice was slightly raspy.

The nurse was stunned for a moment before immediately replying, "Not long, just from last night until now—"

Before she could even finish answering, her professionalism kicked in. She dashed out while shouting into her phone, "Director! The patient in Room 501 is awake! Yes, the male patient! That's right!"

Dalton didn't pay attention to the commotion outside as his focus was entirely on the time displayed on the clock. The sky wasn't fully bright yet, but based on the duration of Wynter's spiritual form's departure, she should have returned by now.

So, why couldn't he sense even a trace of her soul energy?

His hand gradually clenched tighter. He didn't hurt Wynter, but he crumpled the bedsheet. His fingers, distinct at the knuckles, were pale and tense.

Even the Fankrit inscriptions coiled around him stirred eagerly, rising to the surface of his neck. It was a warning to him not to interfere with the order of cause and effect, even if he was the heavenly law.

The greater his authority, the heavier his restraints.

But he had had enough of seeing her lying on the bed, cold and lifeless. It wasn't until his return from the River of Forgetfulness that he remembered that he would appear by her side every lifetime, all for the sake of waiting for the real her to return.

Now, the real her had finally returned to his side. If they still intended to take her away from him, then he would tear apart these restraints no matter the cost.

Without the slightest hesitation, even as the Fankrit inscriptions sliced into his neck, he pressed his fingertips to Wynter's lips, letting her draw his blood.

He may indeed be a mortal right now, but his blood still carried the power of heavenly luck—enough to bring the dead back to life.

Jensen stood outside the door. As a Savior, he had already foreseen Dalton's awakening. He also understood better than anyone that everything would be fundamentally different once Dalton woke this time.

Though Dalton lived in this world as a mortal, the heavenly luck around him would grow stronger now that his spiritual form had fully gathered.

This applied to everyone. What would follow would become a battle over the country's fortune. From now on, wherever this luck resided, prosperity would flourish.

It had always been this way, but henceforth, the heavens would make no distinction between the souls of the living and the dead, demons and beasts, and humans and spirits. After all, all beings were equal.

Dalton's return was certainly a good thing, but they needed to find Wolf as soon as possible. After all, the awakening of all things didn't apply to just the goods, but also the dangerous.

For years, Wolf had lived among them, disguised as a human child by Wynter's side. If he truly awakened now, the consequences could spiral beyond control.

This thought, thick with unease, seemed to spread even to Wynter, lying on the hospital bed. Her fingers twitched slightly. Then, with a sudden shudder, her eyes snapped open.

Before she could even process what was happening, she was pulled into a tight embrace.

She hadn't been able to hear Dalton's heartbeat in the underworld, but here, more than his scent, it was the steady, powerful rhythm against her that made her feel safe. It was neither frantic nor hurried—just slow and deliberate, like his voice when it reached her ears.

"Don't ever use your merit to summon me again. You'll die if the resentful energy can't be offset."

This might have been the first time Dalton had ever felt fear. No, in fact, it was the second time. But both times, it was because of her.

In the formation, he couldn't bear the thought of her vanishing. All those years ago, the reason he went to such lengths to seal her away was simply because he couldn't stand losing her.

She probably couldn't even imagine how he felt when he saw her standing on that boat in the River of Forgetfulness, shrouded in black mist with her wrists bleeding. It was especially so when knowing she had used her merit.

He had been terrified she wouldn't wake up. If that had happened, he wouldn't know what to do. How many more years would he have had to wait?

"Remember, never take risks for me."

He said it like a command, but Wynter would never obey. After all, she was the only one who would slaughter her way through evil spirits in the River of Forgetfulness just for him.

...

At the same time, the members of the Special Unit were stationed in Havenia, but since this wasn't the mainland, they couldn't openly search for Wolf. They had spent days combing through the city with no trace of him.

Now, seated in a café, one of the members spoke up. "Captain, if Wolf is really in Havenia, we should've found at least some leads by now."

Sheldon took a slow sip of tea. "He's most likely here. But Havenia is big, so we'll have to take our time. If we go back empty-handed, there's no way we can face Ms. Quinnell."

Finishing the last of his tea, he stood. "Let's keep looking." The others followed suit, dispersing from the café in different directions.

…

Meanwhile, the very person they were searching for, Wolf, was sprawled on a bed, fast asleep, alternating between loud snores and teeth-grinding.

Ingrid was tidying up the apartment when she heard the noises and smiled to herself. Wolf had fallen asleep the second he hit the bed, like he was completely at home.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Ingrid approached the door and peered through the peephole, spotting a man in a formal suit.

"Who are you?" she asked through the door.

The man outside smiled politely. "Mr. Chamberlain sent me. I'm here to escort you back."

Her expression darkened instantly. "Tell him I'm not going back. I'll never forgive him after what he did to my mother. Goodbye."

Hearing the resolve in her tone, the man didn't press further. He left quietly, ready to relay Ingrid's words to Antoine Chamberlain.

Ingrid's voice had been a little too loud, startling Wolf awake. Rubbing his eyes, he slipped on his sandals and shuffled out of the room.

He found Ingrid sitting on the couch, dabbing tears from her eyes with a tissue.

Wolf walked over. "Ms. Ingrid, what's wrong?"

Hearing his voice, she forced a smile. "It's nothing. Did I wake you?"

Wolf shook his head. "No, I slept enough. I just came to check on you."

Ingrid stood and patted his head. "You're such a sweet boy."

Wolf reached up, brushing away a lingering tear on her cheek. "Ms. Ingrid, if something makes you sad, you should say it. Keeping it inside isn't good."

But Ingrid shook her head. "Wolf, you're still young. There are things I can't explain to anyone. But meeting you has made me happy."

Before Wolf could respond, Jemima, hidden in his emerald pendant, suddenly spoke up. "Sir, I can smell that scent again. He's nearby."

Of course, Ingrid couldn't hear her. Wolf thought for a moment, then looked at Ingrid. "Ms. Ingrid, let's go for a walk. It'll help you feel better."

Ingrid smiled. "Alright. Let me freshen up first."

Wolf stood and took the jacket. "Okay."

Once he put it on, the presence he gave off was far beyond what a child his age should have.

Ingrid couldn't help but smile. "You look so handsome in this! Wait for me here. I'll pick out a few more things."

"Okay." He sat back down, then spoke coldly to the pendant. "If you want him to face justice properly, listen to me. He'll face the consequences if you follow my instructions.

"My boss… she's incredible. She fights for the living and speaks for the dead. So, wait for her. When she comes for me, that's when you'll get your revenge."

Jemima's voice softened. "Sir, I'll listen to you."

Just then, Ingrid returned with more clothes. "Come on, Wolf. Let's get something to eat."

Hearing that, Wolf's face lit up. "Okay! I want meat!"

Ingrid caressed Wolf's cheeks. "Fine. But you have to eat vegetables, too. You can't just have meat." She led him toward a nearby restaurant as she spoke.

As they walked, Ingrid asked curiously, "Wolf, what's your boss like?"

Wolf thought carefully. "My boss is… amazing. She's about your age. In this world, she's the only one I listen to."

"Then how could she let you come to Havenia alone?" Ingrid asked.

Wolf rubbed his nose. "She had something important to do. So, I came by myself."

Ingrid chuckled. "It's a good thing you met me. Havenia isn't the safest place yet. By the way, what's your boss' name? If she comes to pick you up, I should know who to look for."

"Her name is Wynter! Like winter, but with a 'y!'"

The moment Ingrid heard the name, her expression froze. "Wynter?"

Wolf tilted his head. "What's wrong, Ms. Ingrid?"

She shook her head quickly. "Nothing. I must be overthinking."

Back when Ingrid was studying on the mainland, there happened to be a girl in her class also named Wynter.

So, when Wolf mentioned Wynter, Ingrid froze. But the way he described her, powerful and amazing, didn't match the Wynter she'd known at all.

Wolf scratched his head, watching Ingrid's pensive expression. He couldn't help but wonder if she knew Wynter.

As they neared the restaurant, the roar of an engine cut through the air. Wolf turned to see a van screech to a halt behind them, and several burly men stepped out.

The leader, Bertie Eroll, eyed Ingrid. "Ms. Chamberlain, you'll need to come with us."

Ingrid stiffened. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"

Bertie smirked. "That's not important. Don't worry—no one's going to hurt you. You just have to wait for Mr. Chamberlain to pick you up."