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Chapter 3

"Help,"

She heard the groan of the stranger once again.

The voice did not sound like someone she knew. Even so, it was extremely difficult to ascertain the gender or age of the person behind the voice. The silence in the air compelled her to be there with the helpless person, even if she had wanted to take a moment to fully understand who was pleading for assistance.

Her pulse quickened as the urgency for her assistance grew with each passing second. She had never before had such clarity about someone's need for her or the yearning to be there for them. Nothing was more important to her than rescuing the person in distress.

For the first time, she felt the misfortune and almost cursed to be surrounded by shrubs and trees, making it impossible for her to locate the individual who was continuously calling out for her. Even while her intellect pushed her to continue riding her bike on the designated track, her heart overruled her thoughts and was governing her body on its own. She could not even move her feet to put it on the paddle.

Heather frantically looked about for the source of the unidentified cries out for help, but she did not see anyone.

In the preview of her eyes, there was nothing. There was no indication of where the voice was coming from. This one made her more anxious. She initially tried to attribute the sudden surge of weird sentiments to a delusion, but as time passed, the pull of wanting to be with the person grew more vigorous than ever, making it more challenging for her to ignore the gasp of pleadings.

She had no idea of where to go or whom to go to. The only thing she was certain of was that she had to locate the person who was groveling for her rescue.

Heather briefly closed her eyes to gain a clearer idea of what to do next. Subsequently, she did not have much time to consider before pressing the pedal and beginning to travel in the voice's direction.

The sound of the person's voice grew louder as she pedaled her bike swiftly. It was strange that both the voice and her home were accessible via the same route.

'It had to be a mere coincidence.' She thought.

As she biked her way towards the speaker, her feet came to an abrupt halt, and her air got lodged in her throat, forcing her to gasp slightly.

But she was short on time.

Heather did not wait for her breathing to resume normalcy as she flung her bike aside and proceeded to speed towards the source of the voice. She stumbled through the bushes and waddled her way through the small rainforest when she finally saw a man moaning in agony and endlessly calling for aid.

She quickly approached and squatted next to him after spotting him clearly, so she could get a better look at him. His face was covered in blood, some fresh and some ancient, and his torn clothes made the scratch wounds on his body quite visible. It was difficult to distinguish between those from the thorns and those from the wild animals.

The animal that lived here would never harm a soul until they were in the shadows of the evil, but based on his scratch marks, it was clear that this man had crawled his way to this neighborhood.

She stared at him carefully and found herself reaching out to touch the black hair that partially hid his forehead. His face and the exposed skin on his body were covered with blood, mud, cuts, and dust.

It was apparent that this guy needed her aid, and she knew just what she needed to do to prevent this man from dying. But at first, she needs to bring him to her residence so that she can tend to him.

In an effort to hear his voice and feel for indications of consciousness, Heather leaned down to touch his face. However, as soon as her flesh touched his, she quickly pulled back as intense sparks raced through her body.

Both of the injured man's eyes expanded for a full two seconds before suddenly fluttering shut, leaving him unconscious and in need of her mending.

Despite being unconscious and continuing to murmur "Help," he felt the sparks she had.

In order to keep him from sliding into a comatose state, Heather understood she had to talk to him and try to wake him up.

"Are you able to hear my voice? Can you understand what I am speaking?" Heather questioned the person who was lying in front of her.

The only response she heard from him was a 'hmm.'

Even though he responded passively, it did comfort her. She was happy to see that he still had some life in him, however little. Now, she hoped she and the man would have the strength to make it to her house.

"I am going to help you to stand up. Please, bear with me." She told him and then attempted to raise the man all by herself.

The fact that the man still had some strength left in him made her duty easier, which was good for her. Despite his awful condition and partially conscious state, he made an effort to stand up.

She had one hand on his waist and one of his arms around her shoulder. It was clear that Heather was bearing the majority of his strength as she somewhat dragged and partially carried him for two hundred feet or so to her house.

It was no surprise that the residents of this village thought Heather Crown to be a miracle. She was a true wonder worker because of the fortitude she possessed when someone needed her medical attention. It was something no one could ever equal with.

There was no rational explanation for her strength and abilities. It always came effortlessly to her, but it constantly left her fatigued at the end of the day, and she was aware that trying to assist this unnamed man in regaining his footing would quickly drain all of her energy.

Despite this, Heather was fully aware of her role, which never deterred her from putting everything she had into it—even if it meant risking her own life.

As soon as they reached the place of her residence, she put him in the stroller outside and pushed him towards the cabin, where she commonly treats her patients.

Everything she needed to provide medical care for her patient was in her cabin. It had a wide variety of herbs, brews, and tools that have served as her partner in assisting others who are in pain.

One of the most crucial components of her medical harbor was a bathtub that she had installed in a cabin nook. Many people's healing has been built on the support of this tub.

In an effort to assist this man with the same, she helped him undress and used her herbal paste and wet towel to gently wipe his wounds.

She began with his stern face and slowly moved her fingertips down his hard body, ending at his toes. Her fingertip gleamed in an amazing shade of golden, deepening tones of orange and red at the borders as she brushed her hand over his body.

The injured man in front of her was undeniably beautiful.

Even with the wounds covering more than half of his body, she could still confidently conclude that the injured man was strong and attractive.

She was no stranger to the knowledge of intimacy that a man and woman share, but he was the first one to pique her interest. She is a woman, and this man has the power to stir up every emotion in her body, soul, and heart. Something that terrified her to no end.

She washed off all the dirt, blood, and grime before submerging him in hot water.

As anticipated, it hurt.

Nevertheless, the man's agonized groan was a clue that he was at least partially aware of his surroundings.

Once he was entirely immersed in the water up to his neck, she hurried to the cabinet on the opposite end of the cabin. She quickly grabbed a fresh amount of Centella Asiatia and other herbs, which she submerged in the water so that every drop of medicine could soak into his infected wound.

For her medicine to take its full effect and his body to absorb every last bit of its merit, he must remain in the artificial lake for at least an hour.

After bathing him for nearly sixty minutes, she gave him a gentle drying, placed him back in the stroller, wrapped a blanket around him, and pushed him through the door that led to her home and into her bedroom. Given his large size and present condition, he would require a far more comfortable structure to rest on than the cabin's bed and the sofa in the living room.

This man had been gravely injured, and it would take him weeks, if not months, to fully recover and get back on his feet. His wounds would eventually heal over time, leaving no scar, but he would require her attentive gaze and touch to stand on his own.

She assisted him into her bed and then ignited the fire in the room, filling it with logs to provide just the appropriate amount of heat.

She was by his side the entire day, providing him with everything he could possibly need to make his slumber peaceful and incrementally mending.

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