Wynter didn’t want to continue talking about it. She walked ahead in her black boots. Her long hair

hung low around her waist. Her legs looked slender and pale.

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But Dalton still noticed that something was wrong with her right hand. Out of nowhere, he grabbed her

wrist and lowered his eyes. “What happened?”

Wynter was unbothered. “I probably scraped myself against the tree by accident to avoid hitting

someone mistakenly. It’s okay. I’ll go back home-”

Wynter stopped speaking halfway because of what Dalton did. He suddenly leaned,

down and placed his l*ps on her wrist. He exuded such nobility that his action,

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