Chapter 1 Take It Off
On an uninhabited island.
Raindrops pelted down like bullets, and the crashing of the waves was like drums.
With a dagger, Arielle Moore was shaving the wooden piece down with difficulty. It was as if she felt nothing as the rain continued to hit her face.
She had lost contact with her family for ten years. Just as she finally found the Southalls—just as she was about to find out the truth about her mother’s death and her kidnapping—a group of people who claimed to be the ones to bring her home tried to kill her.
She successfully defeated them, but the ship sunk, and she ended up on this uninhabited island.
It was her seventh day on the island, and she had yet to see any passing ships.
Fortunately, there were many trees and plants on the island, and she had built herself a simple wooden boat.
Right when she moved to work on the oars, it had abruptly rained heavily.
Rising to her feet, Arielle was about to stretch when she spotted something dark by the rocks.
Walking over suspiciously, it startled her to find out it was a man.
The man was handsome, but his face was pale. He had an injury on his waist, and his blood was mixing together with the seawater, forming a sunset in the water.
Arielle placed her finger under the man’s nose. When she realized the man was not dead, she began dragging him further into the island and into the cave she had been sleeping in for the past few days.
After starting a fire, she ran back out into the rain. It was only a brief while before she returned with some herbs.
“You’re lucky that you’ve met me,” Arielle said as she reached out to take off the man’s clothes.
A quick glance at the man’s waist told her that it was a deep knife wound. Did it hit his internal organs?
The moment she reached out for his wrist to take his pulse, a hand grabbed onto hers instead.
“W-Who are you?” The man’s voice was almost a whisper, but the grip around her wrist was firm.
Shooting the man a look, Arielle gloomily said, “Who am I? I’m your savior. If you’re not going to let go of me anytime soon, I’m going to have to build you a gravestone. In memory of Nameless. Does that sound good?”
The man only furrowed his brows in silence. Then, his eyes drifted toward the crushed herbs in her hands.
“What’s the matter? Take it off! I’ll help you.”