Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband-Chapter 1150: Dianna, Don’t Be Afraid

Mort Thorne left, he went to find Dianna Hollis.

"Mort!" Kate Lee called out, but Mort didn’t even turn his head back. His tall and upright figure quickly disappeared from sight.

Kate looked at Charles Bishop discontentedly, "Charles, why did you have to tell Mort? Now, look, Mort has gone to find Dianna!"

Moments ago, the two had a disagreement. Charles wanted to tell Mort, but Kate stopped him. Kate felt it was a golden opportunity as if heaven was helping her. Dianna accidentally wandered into the back mountain where wolves roamed, and possibly her life was in peril. If so, no one would compete with her for Mort’s affection. But Charles ruined this good chance.

Charles frowned at Kate and said sternly, "Kiki, although I don’t agree with Mort and Dianna being together, a life is at stake. How could you treat it so lightly? Kiki, I think you’ve changed. You’ve become selfish. How do you expect to enlist like this?"

Kate’s face turned pale. Charles had always been on her side, but she forgot that Charles was a soldier.

"Charles, I... I didn’t mean it that way. Mort’s health isn’t good right now, he can barely take care of himself. If he goes to the back mountain to save Dianna, he’ll just risk another life. I’m just worried..." Kate innocently explained.

Charles looked gravely towards the direction where Mort disappeared, wondering if Mort would successfully rescue Dianna.

...

Back Mountain.

Dianna was surrounded by a pack of wolves. One lunged at her, and with a swift motion, she stabbed the wolf in the head.

Then another wolf leaped at her. Dianna tried to pull out the knife, but it was stuck, she couldn’t get it out.

With their keen sense of smell, the wolves sensed Dianna was unarmed. Two wolves lunged at her from both front and back simultaneously.

Dianna’s pupils shrank, the two wolves in her vision kept zooming in and out.

Would she die at the hands of these wolves, leaving no remains?

A suffocating sense of doom instantly enveloped Dianna, and she was a beat too slow.

At that moment, the two wolves bared their jaws wide, about to bite her.

In a hair’s breadth moment, Dianna felt herself being embraced, a strong arm wrapped around her slender waist, pressing her tightly against a hot male body.

They fell to the ground.

The man’s rough hand cupped the back of her head, protecting it in his embrace. Despite the strong impact making them roll several times, Dianna felt no pain because she was securely protected.

She smelled a rich manly scent mixed with a faint soap fragrance.

Not the smell of body wash, but of soap.

They stopped rolling. Dianna lay beneath, the man on top. Dianna, quivering with her butterfly-wing like eyelashes, looked up at Mort Thorne on top of her.

Mort had come!

Why did he come?

Why would he risk coming?

"Are you hurt?" Mort asked, his voice hoarse as he looked at her.

Dianna averted her gaze, not answering.

Seeing her ignore him, Mort’s eyes darkened a bit, "You can still get angry, seems like you’re not hurt."

Just then, a wolf leaped at Mort from behind, and Dianna immediately grabbed his sleeve in panic, "Wolf!"

Mort’s large hand, tucked behind her head, slightly pressed her small face against his chest. He spoke in a low raspy voice, "Dianna, don’t be afraid."

The sound of a sharp knife slashing a throat was heard. In Mort’s left hand appeared a sharp knife, and he slit the wolf’s throat.

Thud.

Fresh blood splattered out, soaking into Mort’s black shirt.

His tousled bangs covered his bloodshot eyes. He didn’t even blink when he drew his knife, like a detached, cold-blooded yet mighty warrior.

Dianna lifted her head from his robust chest, not a single drop of blood had touched her.

"Cain, why are you so hot?" Her hand fell on his sturdy muscles, realizing his abnormal body temperature.

He was like a fireball, and her soft fingertips were scalded.

Mort grabbed her boneless soft hand, moving it away from his body. This time the withdrawal from addiction caused his fever to recur endlessly. He huskily said, "I’m fine."

How could he be fine when he’s burning like this!

Mort stood up; his blood-red eyes watching the wolves glaring at him. Perhaps realizing how fearsome this man was, those wolves didn’t dare pounce. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Mort rolled up his blood-stained black shirt sleeves, then wiped the blood off his handsome face with his hand. He stared at the wolves, his eyes exuding a cold-blooded and bloodthirsty light.

Slowly extending a long index finger, he disdainfully gestured at the wolves to come at him.

Awwoooo.

The wolves were successfully provoked.

One man against several wolves, the tension was enough to make anyone’s heart race.

"Cain." Dianna uneasily tugged at his shirt. He had a high fever, wasn’t feeling well, facing off against these wolves alone was risky.

Mort extended his rough hand, grasping her soft little hand, "Stay here obediently, don’t distract me, okay?"

In this critical moment, Dianna had no choice but to comply; she nodded, "Okay."

Then, several wolves leaped at once, and Mort quickly stood to face them.

The wolves were fast, but Mort was faster. Knife raised and lowered, he immediately killed two. Then, a wolf leaped at him, its sharp fangs sinking into his abdomen.

"Cain!" Dianna’s pupils contracted.

The wolf’s fangs had pierced Mort’s abdomen, but Mort used his large hand to grip a fang and forcefully snapped it off.

Awroooo, a miserable howl from the wolf, Mort yanked the fang out of the wolf’s mouth.

He lifted the knife in his hand, stabbing it into the wolf’s head.

Blood.

Blood everywhere.

Only one wolf was left from the pack, eyeing Mort. Mort’s bloodshot eyes also stared back at it.

The man, full of ferocity, looked brutish and bloodthirsty covered in hostility.

That last wolf turned and fled.

Soon, the other observing wolves followed, swiftly vanishing into the dark mountains.

He killed several wolves, his bloodthirsty aura scaring the rest away.

He was fiercer than the wolves.

The wolves left, the danger was lifted, and with a thud, Mort knelt on one knee.

His bangs were soaked, small droplets falling drip by drip from the ends. One large hand supported on his thigh, the other holding the knife on the ground, his sturdy chest heaving breaths, one after another.

Dianna had seen him in action before. This time, he was faster, deadlier, relentless—this was the real him, hiding deep, fatally dangerous.

Not just the wolves; even she was no match for him. Her heart had long been lost to him, never to return.