The Jilted Heiress' Return to the High Life - Chapter 465

Chapter 465:

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Before a word could be exchanged, his phone rang. As soon as Nate answered, Moses’ voice rang through the line.

“Nate, I found her. She is in her cabin.”

Nate did not wait for details. Without another glance at Leah and Bruce, he strode toward the guest rooms with singular purpose.

When he reached Corrine’s door, he knocked once, twice. No response. His patience snapped. Without hesitation, he kicked the door open. The room was cloaked in shadows, save for a faint glow spilling from the bathroom.

His jaw clenched as he approached, his fingers pressing against the bathroom door before pushing it open. His breath hitched.

Corrine’s dark hair fanned out in the water like ink dissolving into the surface, her delicate frame submerged beneath the bath’s icy depths. Her skin, almost translucent from the cold, held an eerie, otherworldly beauty—like a porcelain doll abandoned to the elements. Veins mapped faint, blue trails beneath her flesh, giving her a fragile, ethereal quality.

Nate’s brows furrowed as he knelt, his fingers brushing against her cheek.

“Corrine. Corrine…”

His warmth met her frozen skin, and at that touch, something in Corrine stirred. To her, it was like a traveler lost in a desert, stumbling upon an oasis.

A desperate need for warmth overtook her. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she instinctively nuzzled against his hand, like a cat seeking comfort.

Nate’s gaze lingered on Corrine, his sharply defined features shadowed with an unreadable coldness. He knew her too well to mistake this for an attempt at seduction.

MⲾ𝓮 𝒹𝑒𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓁𝓼 𝒶𝓉 g𝓪l𝑛ovєls.𝓬0𝓂

With a firm grip, he pulled her from the water, his palm grazing her heated skin. The unnatural warmth seeping through her flesh made his brows furrow. He had a vague suspicion of what had happened to her. Without hesitation, he grabbed a towel from the nearby rack and wrapped it securely around her trembling form.

Corrine, her consciousness hazy, sluggishly registered another presence. A flicker of alertness flashed in her eyes as she forced them open, a brief chill settling over her expression. But the moment she recognized Nate, the coldness melted away.

“Nate, you… why are you here?” Her usual cool voice was laced with an unfamiliar fragility, her breath heavy and uneven.

The drug coursing through her veins sharpened her senses, making her hyperaware of the crisp scent clinging to Nate. It was intoxicating. She found herself leaning toward him, aching for the relief his presence seemed to promise. Biting her lip, she fought against the reckless impulse.

“Leave. I can handle this myself.”

Nate ignored her feeble protest and carried her to the bed. He caught the faint shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes, the way her teeth dug into her lower lip, a desperate attempt to keep herself in control.

“Stop biting,” he said, his voice low, edged with authority that left no room for defiance. He reached out, pressing his thumb against her chin. Her lip, swollen from her own relentless pressure, slipped free, revealing a faint trace of blood.

His jaw tightened, his dark gaze unwavering.

“Do not bite again.”

Corrine’s breath hitched. His touch sent an unwelcome rush of heat through her, testing the last shreds of her restraint. She turned her head sharply, refusing to meet his eyes, and curled up beneath the blanket.

“Just leave!” she snapped, her voice petulant yet weak.

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