A fine, cold sweat broke out on Sophie Sullivan’s forehead. As the wolf pack drew closer, her muscles and nerves tensed further. But that damned Thomas Shannon was still teasing her, completely unaware of the situation’s gravity. Sophie was furious, but even more, she feared being torn apart by the wolves, becoming their food.
"I’ll give you one chance. Repeat what you just said." Thomas Shannon’s voice dripped with condescending charity.
Sophie bit her lip and clenched her fists, like a cornered animal ready for a fight.
Just as she charged toward an approaching wolf, BANG— A gunshot echoed through the air above the Meadow.
The blood smell spread through the air.
Sophie remained expressionless, stubbornly opening her eyes to meet the glaring light. In her line of sight, all she could see was the piercing white light; nothing else was visible. Despite this, she kept her eyes wide open, filled with a burning rage.
Gunshots rang out one after another, and wolves fell at a visible rate. Sophie stood rooted to the spot, not moving an inch.
Thomas Shannon walked against the light, stepping over the scattered wolf corpses to reach her.
Sophie stared at him unblinkingly, the hatred in her eyes clear and luminous.
Thomas Shannon chuckled softly. He raised his hand and gently caressed her cheek. "What’s wrong? Angry?"
Sophie slapped his hand away hard. With a cold expression, she walked past him, stepping over the wolf corpses one by one, heading back.
Footsteps sounded from behind her. Sophie quickened her pace, eventually breaking into a run.
She was suddenly grabbed from behind, and the next second, her body was lifted into the air. Thomas Shannon held her in a bridal carry, his handsome face slightly cold. "Have you made enough of a scene? How much longer do you intend to carry on?"
The rage in Sophie’s chest had no outlet. She threw her arms around Thomas Shannon’s neck, tilted her head up, and bit down hard!
The man let out a muffled groan, his bright brow instantly furrowing. "What in God’s name are you doing?"
Sophie bit down hard, venting all her anger and frustration, before finally releasing her hold. "That’s for not saving me!"
"If I hadn’t saved you, do you think you’d still have the chance to throw a tantrum at me now?"
Such an ungrateful wretch!
Thomas Shannon carried her and strode back quickly. "Behave yourself. If you cause any more trouble, I’ll chop you up and feed you to the wolves."
"If you were going to feed me to the wolves, why did you kill them?" Sophie glared at him. "Your threats have no deterrent force on me at all."
"Is that so?" Thomas Shannon’s gaze was cool, showing no anger.
"Did Thomas say when he’ll be back?" Amelia Shaw called out to Minimus Hart.
Minimus Hart slowly removed the white gloves from her hands. The dust-free stair handrails already met the cleaning standard.
Holding the gloves, she slowly descended the staircase and approached Amelia Shaw.
"If you want to know the Young Master’s whereabouts, you can call him yourself."
"So, you can’t get in touch with Thomas Shannon either?" Amelia Shaw had been unable to contact Thomas Shannon for two days straight. She was torn between worry and anxiety.
On one side is Frank Mitchell, rising from the ashes, and on the other, the cold and ruthless Thomas Shannon. Amelia Shaw realized she was truly starting to waver...
"If you can’t contact the Young Master, don’t think you can get any information out of me." Minimus Hart’s expression was disdainful. "I won’t tell you anything."
With that, Minimus Hart turned and left.
Walking out of the castle, Minimus Hart suddenly clenched her fists. That little maniac...