Chapter 1872 The Wedding Night

As Dalton finished his sentence, the scene before Wynter shifted. The sharp scent of disinfectant was gone, and the sterile ward vanished. All sound slowly faded into the distance. They were now deep within the underworld, where demons roamed freely, and the city of ten thousand spirits loomed. At its highest level, everything was cold except where the Spirit King resided. Water from a hot spring seemed to descend from the heavens, its droplets hitting stone with a soft patter. The warmth at Wynter's back reminded her exactly where she was. No one would disturb them here. The barrier he had summoned with a wave of his hand was the one he once used to imprison her. Wynter tried to move, but the chain at her ankle tugged her straight back into his arms. A breeze lifted the corner of the crimson silk draped from the gilded canopy hook. Intimacy ran deep between them, impossible to describe fully. Dalton was still dressed in a sharply tailored suit, but now there was an added elegan