Isaac Vaughn was placed in a wooden barrel filled with clear water, the ripples gently swaying.
Wyatt Yardley deftly curled his tail around the handles on either side of the barrel, carrying it securely by his side.
He hurried along the road, occasionally looking down at Isaac Vaughn.
As soon as they started running, Seraphina Caldwell felt a sudden jolt on her back.
It was the recoil from Gideon Larkin's leap.
Instinctively, she leaned against Gideon Larkin, her entire body leaning forward, almost pressed tightly against his spine.
Her hands clung to the fur at the back of his neck, afraid of falling off if she lost her grip.
Gideon Larkin's steps faltered slightly, his muscles instantly tensing.
But he quickly adjusted his pace, stepping more steadily and forcefully to minimize the jolting.
Yet within that steadiness, there was a barely noticeable tension.
The soft body on his back clung to him.
Through the thick mane, he could still feel the warmth emanating from her body.
Every breath she took gently brushed against his shoulder and back, carrying a faint fragrance.
This feeling was too unfamiliar, so unfamiliar that he was somewhat at a loss.
He had never been so close to anyone, nor had he ever allowed anyone to ride on his back.
He did not deliberately jostle her.
Yet whether it was the original master or the current Seraphina Caldwell, it was the first time riding a lion to travel.
This experience was unprecedented, completely exceeding her expectations.
She desperately tried to steady herself, gripping the dense mane at the lion's neck tightly with both hands, and clamping her legs firmly against his back.
But as Gideon Larkin ran faster and faster, the jolting sensation grew increasingly intense.
Her arms gradually became too sore to lift, and her muscles began to tremble uncontrollably.
She bit her lower lip, using all her strength to hold back a cry.
Eventually, she had to bury her face in the dense mane.
Using the thick fur as a cushion against the vibrations, she tried to stabilize her trembling body.
She already knew that females had weaker stamina.
Especially when faced with the overwhelming carrying capacity of a purebred male's beast form, they appeared even more fragile.
But she never expected herself to be this weak.
Just lying inert on the lion's back had already drained all her strength.
Several times, the jolting was particularly severe, her body was lifted half an inch off, nearly hurled off the lion's broad back.
Only by desperately clutching those sturdy tufts of mane was she barely able to avoid falling off.
Until the sun rose overhead, the scorching sunlight directly baked the earth.
The group finally stopped by a small river, ready to rest for a while.
The water flowed gently, clear to the bottom.
As soon as Gideon Larkin stopped, Seraphina Caldwell slowly slid off his back.
Her legs had long since stiffened, knees weakened.
Landing awkwardly, she stumbled several steps forward, hurriedly reaching out to steady herself against the thick trunk beside, barely managing to stand firm.
She shook her arms, plopping down into the shadow beneath the tree, leaning back against the trunk, panting heavily.
"Whew..."
She breathed out heavily.
When she lifted her head, she met Gideon Larkin's complex gaze.
She was about to ask what was wrong, when her throat had yet to utter a sound.
Gideon Larkin suddenly drew out a whip from the leather bag at his waist, handing it to her.
"Go ahead."
After saying this, he didn't hesitate in the slightest, directly kneeled on one knee before her, bowed his head, exposing his sturdy neck.
Seraphina Caldwell looked down at the whip in her hands, stunned in place, her mind buzzing.
She was dazedly looking at the drooped head of Gideon Larkin, then at the whip in her hand, her mind full of questions.
"Hit you? Why would I hit you?"
Gideon Larkin seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world.
His ice-blue eyes widened suddenly, pupils contracted slightly, disbelief written all over his face.
He stepped forward half a pace, his towering body bearing down, his shadow enveloping her completely.
"He tortured you till your back was almost breaking, your face looks awful, your hands are trembling, shouldn't you teach him a lesson?"
After waiting for a while, he found that Seraphina Caldwell had no intention to act, still sitting there dazed.
Gideon Larkin's brow furrowed slightly, his gaze darkened.
"You really won't hit?"
She was not the original her, neither would she take pleasure in whipping others.
The former Seraphina Caldwell might have cared about identity and rules, but she didn't.
She just wanted to live safely and peacefully, not to appease anyone by whipping and hurting.
Moreover, the few individuals before her were all dangerous characters capable of taking her life, how dared she act?
Even if Gideon Larkin himself wanted to be beaten, enjoyed being smacked till he screamed.
She was too exhausted now to lift a hand, her body feeling drained of strength.
Seraphina Caldwell carelessly tossed the whip aside.
The tip of the whip brushed against the grass, the blades bending to either side, producing a soft "pop" sound.
She slid down against the trunk, her back pressing against the rough bark, inching downward bit by bit.
"I'm tired, want to sleep for a while, don't make noise."
As soon as the words were spoken, her breathing soon turned slow and steady.
She genuinely couldn't hold out anymore, having had a nightmare last night and barely slept soundly.
The dream was filled with biting, growling, blood, and flames.
She was continuously running, yet couldn't move at all.
Now, as soon as she relaxed, her mind went blank.
Straightaway, she fell into deep sleep.
A few Beast Husband gathered around her, staring at Seraphina Caldwell leaning against the tree, their expressions complex.
The air seemed to freeze, only the rustle of leaves in the wind gently echoing.
Such a frail little female, the first time being carried such a distance by someone, was jolted till her face turned pale, her lips grayish-white.
They had thought she'd surely lose her temper upon dismounting, either crying or yelling, at the very least snapping the whip a few times to vent.
But instead?
Without even touching the whip, she silently curled up exhaustedly against the tree and fell asleep?
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting dapples across her face.
A few Beast Husband silently closed in.
None spoke, but their gazes grew more complex, one after another.
Gideon Larkin bent over to pick up the whip, fingers lightly caressing its surface.
The whip was specially crafted, its thick leather leaving deep red marks when it struck flesh.
Once, this thing smacked across his skin, leaving him with burning pain.
It hurt so much he couldn't sleep at night, the moment salt water touched, it was agony.
Yet now, she didn't even glance at it, just tossed it carelessly into the grass.
Wyatt Yardley lazily leaned against the tree, his dark red eyes swept over Seraphina Caldwell's pale lips, then glanced at the whip within Gideon Larkin's hand.
Evan Orwell knelt down, half-kneeling, getting closer, his gaze fell on the bruises upon her neck which hadn't faded.
Kaelan Hawthorne retrieved a piece of meat from the Beast Skin Bag, wrapped in greaseproof paper, still retaining a bit of warmth.
He squatted at the edge of the clearing, set a campfire, moving skillfully.
Sparks crackled and popped, flames gradually rising high.
He placed the roasted meat on the rack, leisurely turning it.
The aroma of meat gradually spread, grease dripped into the fire, sizzling.
From time to time, he would lift his gaze to glance at Seraphina Caldwell, a look of unclear complexity in his eyes.
Isaac Vaughn sat beside the water barrel, his tail flapping at the water's surface.
His gaze fell upon the bruises on Seraphina Caldwell's neck, paused, his pupils slightly contracting.
That injury...
Wasn't caused by him, yet he remembered being right nearby at the time.
He turned his head away, no longer looking, stared at the reflection of the trees upon the water surface, his lips pressed into a straight line.
No one spoke.
Only the sound of wind rustling through leaves, intermittently audible.
Mingling with Seraphina Caldwell's gentle breathing, forming a subtle quiet.