Even though Ann Vaughn had prepared herself ntally, hearing Cyrus Hawthorne say this still shocked her.
If it wasn’t birth control pills, then the dicine was...
Before she could think further, Cyrus gave her the answer.
"After mutating, the OX virus can only be transmitted to another person through blood." Cyrus lowered his gaze, focusing on her shocked expression, a trace of darkness passing through his eyes. He continued, "What you took was a specially formulated virus blocking drug from the laboratory."
There were reasons why Ann Vaughn misunderstood the bottle of dicine as birth control pills.
Firstly, she didn’t know at the ti that Cyrus was infected with the virus, nor did she know that after their intimate encounter, she also faced the risk of infection.
Secondly, he handed her the dicine without explanation, insisting she take it with a cold and firm attitude, making it inevitable for Ann Vaughn to misunderstand.
And finally, what shattered all her doubts and that sliver of hope was the test result of that bottle of dicine...
"Ouch!" While brooding over it, Ann Vaughn felt a slight sting at the corner of her mouth. She looked up, startled, only to be t with Cyrus Hawthorne’s narrowed, angry eyes. She froze, forgetting even to blink.
The anger encircling him seed even more intense than before.
He leaned in closer, his soft dark hair brushing against her smooth forehead, his warm breath gently dispersing over her, causing Ann Vaughn’s back to tense up.
The overwhelming masculine scent flooded over her as if weaving a tight web, enveloping Ann Vaughn entirely, placing everything she knew and felt under his control.
"From the mont you misunderstood until now, you’ve had plenty of opportunities to ask for confirmation, but you didn’t."
"Had this not been inadvertently exposed, you would have continued hiding it from ."
"Count carefully, how many tis has this happened?"
Each question from Cyrus Hawthorne made Ann Vaughn shiver involuntarily.
His kisses trailed from the corner of her lips, chin, and earlobe, finally landing on the hollow of her neck. His teeth lightly grazed her skin, sending tingles up to the back of her head, making it nearly impossible to ignore.
Ann Vaughn’s small hands feebly grasped his shoulder, whimpering in grievance, "I, don’t I have any self-respect? You gave birth control pills, and I should still go and pester you with questions..."
Before she could finish speaking, the soft skin on the side of her neck was bitten harshly, "Hmm?"
Ann Vaughn unconsciously kicked her little leg, admitting weakly, "I know I was wrong. From now on, no matter what misunderstandings arise, I’ll confirm with you imdiately and won’t just speculate, convincing myself logically..."
Her mistake was having a brain that was too darn active.
Often, she hadn’t even sorted it out herself when her brain had already automatically generated the causes and effects, with perfect logic.
She damn near killed herself with it.
Cyrus Hawthorne slightly lifted his head, looking at her flushed little face, speaking slowly, "And if it happens again?"
"...It shouldn’t happen again, right?" Ann Vaughn hesitated, feeling sowhat unsure.
She can’t control herself, can she?
Cyrus Hawthorne narrowed his eyes dangerously, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "If it happens again, you won’t be allowed to sleep for a week."
A week without sleep, what kind of punishnt is that?
At first, Ann Vaughn felt a bit lucky, thinking it wasn’t much since she was the champion of late nights.
But once she truly understood the implication behind Cyrus Hawthorne’s words, her delicate body trembled.
"It... it can’t an what I think it ans, right?"
"What do you think?" The Archfiend’s eyes were gentle, but his grip around her waist suddenly tightened.
Ann Vaughn imdiately turned into a puddle, lying on his shoulder as she caught her breath, her mind suddenly flashing with an idea.
She grabbed Cyrus Hawthorne’s sleeve, looking at him seriously, "You’re at fault too!"
Cyrus Hawthorne raised an eyebrow slightly, "Hmm?"
"After getting infected with the virus, your first thought wasn’t to tell or discuss how we should handle it, but to hide it from , pushing further and further away."
Ann Vaughn’s lashes trembled lightly, shielding the emotions in her eyes, "I know you did it for my own good, but Quinn, you can’t make all the decisions for . I have my own answers too."
What her answer would be was long understood without words.
Cyrus Hawthorne furrowed his brows deeply, then slowly relaxed, his handso face showing so helplessness.
"So we’re even?"
Ann Vaughn snorted, imitating the threatening air he used earlier, pushing lightly against his left shoulder with her small hand, pretending to be stern, "If you do it again, don’t think about getting into my bed for a week."
The sa threat, when coming from Ann Vaughn, carried an inexplicable softness, as if she could be knocked over with a light push, left at one’s rcy.
Cyrus Hawthorne pressed his fist against his lips, chuckling without exposing her false bravado, nodding in cooperation.
After talking openly, a lot changed between them without either realizing it.
Ann Vaughn recalled the promise she made to Ian Vaughn and Eli Sheridan before, reporting the incident to them soon after waking up.
To avoid worrying them, she hid the fact that she had fallen into the river, only ntioning it was a minor accident, telling them not to fret.
But Ian Vaughn and Eli Sheridan, one a tactful professor in the university, the other an elite thriving in the business world, had keen discernnt.
Anything concerning Ann Vaughn left them taking no chances. That very night, they flew to The Imperial Capital on a private jet.
Soon after the doctor left from giving Ann Vaughn an injection, the door to her hospital room was swiftly pulled open.
Two figures, one refined and the other cold, walked in simultaneously, making the nurse still in the room glance shyly, her ears turning red.
Were they international male models?
Their aura and physique were too perfect!
Ann Vaughn was just about to take her dicine when seeing Ian Vaughn and Eli Sheridan made her scalp tingle.
It’s over...
Ian Vaughn and Eli Sheridan had already been briefed by Cyrus Hawthorne about the situation, but seeing Ann Vaughn in person, looking miserable while holding her nose and taking her dicine, made their hearts ache.
The severe abrasions on her body were hidden under her clothes, but the injuries on her forehead, neck, and wrists were exposed.
This was her saying she was fine, just at ho watching dramas and admiring handso n?
Ian Vaughn and Eli Sheridan were nearly beside themselves with anger.
The little Princess they held dear to their hearts, was she to be bullied by anyone else?!
Ann Vaughn also knew her faults, her head lowered, looking obediently apologetic.
Unexpectedly, they didn’t bla her for hiding it, nor did they lecture her for breaking her previous promises.
Before she realized it, Ann Vaughn was embraced.
The embrace was warm, like the first bite of roasted sweet potato in winter, sweet and comforting, driving away all the chill.
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