CHAPTER 48: CHAPTER 48: FELL HEADLONG INTO HIS ARMS

At this moment, his body almost couldn’t feel any pain, his limbs warm and cozy, a condition he hadn’t felt since his car accident.

Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes darkened slightly as he slowly took the bottle of medicine from her hand and drank it all.

Ann Vaughn noticed that he finally wasn’t skeptical or resistant to the medicine she gave him, which made her face relax a bit; otherwise, she would have considered using the same tactic she used on Sawyer Jennings with him.

"You should rest for a while. I’ll go outside to find some herbs and will be back soon." Ann Vaughn said to Cyrus Hawthorne, noticing the rain had stopped, then got up and ran away.

Cyrus Hawthorne looked at the gloomy sky, his brows furrowed, and a touch of agitation appeared in his eyes that even he wasn’t aware of.

Before long, the rain started again as expected.

It was getting dark, and if Ann Vaughn encountered any danger in this perilous forest...

Thinking of this, Cyrus Hawthorne propped himself up with one hand and stood up, suppressing the remaining weakness in his body, and left the makeshift shelter. He had not walked far before he saw that petite figure running from the rain.

"It’s raining, why did you come out? Your wounds shouldn’t get wet, quickly go back." Ann Vaughn held a bunch of unknown herbs in her hand, her eyes filled with anxiety as she hurriedly pulled Cyrus Hawthorne back.

The shelter that Ann Vaughn had built was barely able to block some of the rain, and if it rained harder, it might not hold up.

She had learned this skill from her grandfather when she used to go up the mountains with him.

Ann Vaughn didn’t bother with her soaking wet clothes and started applying some of the herbs to Cyrus Hawthorne’s arm while speaking, "These herbs might help your old injuries. When we get back, if you trust me, I can help you recover further."

"Thank you." Cyrus Hawthorne stared at the top of her wet hair, his throat moved twice, and his voice, usually calm, lacked its usual coldness.

Immediately, he took off his suit jacket and casually placed it over Ann Vaughn’s head.

Ann Vaughn was startled, and with slender fingers, she held the corner of the jacket, intending to take it off, "You’re the patient, if you catch a cold, it won’t be a joke."

"No need," Cyrus Hawthorne looked at her calmly, "It’s too hot. I don’t need it."

Too hot?

Ann Vaughn glanced at the continuous rain outside, feeling her mind a bit muddled. Perhaps this was why her perception of the temperature was off?

"We might have to camp out here for the night." Ann Vaughn sniffed dejectedly, the scene in front of her seemed to double, making her feel dizzy.

No, she couldn’t fall asleep. What if those people came for them?

"If Mark Joyce hasn’t reached me at the other residence, he will naturally bring people to search. We’ll leave at dawn," Cyrus Hawthorne said in a low voice and glanced at the unusual flush on Ann Vaughn’s cheeks, pausing, "What’s wrong with you?"

Ann Vaughn furrowed her fine brows in distress, her voice soft and weak, "Cyrus Hawthorne, could you stop moving around?"

The swaying was making her dizzy.

This thought barely entered her mind when she felt a quick turn of the world and her body fell forward.

She just happened to fall into Cyrus Hawthorne’s arms, her cheek resting on his thigh, and half-dazed into a light sleep.

Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and he placed his palm on her forehead, only to find it alarmingly hot.

This foolish girl didn’t even realize she had a fever and recklessly went out to find herbs.