Secrets Of The Neglected Wife

Chapter 1288:

Suddenly overcome with panic, Allison slumped back to the ground and crawled over to him.

“Kellan? Kellan! Wake up! Can you hear me?”

Allison reached out to check Kellan’s breathing. Her hand trembled, both from pain and fear. She was terrified of finding that he was already dead. Fortunately, her finger felt his weak breath. He was still alive!

Thankfully, there were several trees protruding from the length of the cliff, which helped cushion their fall. If they hadn’t been there, Allison and Kellan would have likely been a mass of blood and gore when they reached the ground.

Not that their current state was any less worrying.

“How is there so much blood?”

Allison soon discovered that Kellan had hit his head on a rock, and the wound was still bleeding.

It had to be treated immediately, or his life would be in danger. Allison gritted her teeth and swallowed the pain as she proceeded to create a makeshift crutch with fallen branches.

“Damn,” she muttered, hissing with every move she made, as if her limbs were being torn apart.

Allison struggled to stand. Apart from a broken right leg, her injuries were mostly superficial.

She inhaled deeply, steadying her resolve.

“I’ll make sure you’re safe,” she vowed.

Although she wasn’t sure if Verruckt had survived, her immediate priority was to help Kellan.

𝗣𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝘁 𝗀ⱥ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀꞉ⅽ𝗈𝗆

Allison searched the area and gathered long, sturdy vines, twisting them together into makeshift straps. With slow, deliberate movements, she secured Kellan to her back, making sure he wouldn’t slip. Then, after spotting a dry, elevated patch of ground, she carefully lowered him down.

In the past, she could have done this in ten minutes.

This time, it took her two agonizing hours. By the time she finished, the sun was sinking below the horizon, casting long shadows across the jungle floor.

That was when she realized something was wrong. Kellan’s skin was burning up.

“He’s running a fever.”

Her heart clenched as she noted his shallow, labored breaths, a clear sign of infection.

She dug through her soaked belongings, relieved to find that the antibiotics she’d taken from Verruckt had survived the river’s wrath.

Wasting no time, she administered the medicine, then set to work cleaning his wounds with practiced efficiency. Years of experience made her movements swift and precise, and soon, the bleeding had nearly stopped.

But Kellan remained unconscious. Allison’s chest tightened with unease.

She had never been the type to believe in miracles.

Yet now, with nothing left to do but wait, she found herself praying.

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