An Understated Dominance Novel (Dahlia & Dustin) by Marina Vittori updated 2025-26 - An Understated Dominance Chapter 2736

Chapter 2736

Dustin didn’t approach. Instead, he remained at the doorway and spoke gently, his voice calm and nonthreatening.

“It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. If you’re hungry, you can come anytime.”

The little white fox continued to watch him warily, its amber eyes faintly shimmering with spiritual light in the dim room.

Dustin turned away and took more food from the refrigerator.

He placed a few slices of ham and a small bowl of milk in the corner of the kitchen, then returned to the living room. Picking up a book, he pretended to read, though his attention stayed fixed on the kitchen from the corner of his eye.

About half an hour later, the little fox limped out of the storage room.

It paused, carefully surveying its surroundings. After confirming that Dustin posed no threat, it quickly grabbed the food and scurried back into hiding.

Over the next few days, Dustin left food in the same corner every day—sometimes sliced fruit, sometimes cooked chicken, and occasionally pet treats he bought specifically for it.

The fox appeared at unpredictable times—sometimes early in the morning, sometimes late at night—but Dustin could always tell it had been there by the reduced amount of food.

Its wariness gradually faded.

At first, it only came out after Dustin left the kitchen. Later, it dared to sneak out even while he remained in the living room.

One afternoon, about a week later, Dustin was reading when the little white fox walked straight up to him. It stopped at his feet, looked up, and gently nudged the apple in his hand with its nose.

Dustin smiled.

He broke off a small piece of apple and placed it on the floor.

The fox hesitated briefly, then lowered its head to eat. This time, it didn’t immediately flee. After finishing, it lay down on the carpet at Dustin’s feet and began licking its injured hind leg.

Only then did Dustin get a clear look at the wound.

It wasn’t a normal scrape or bite. Faint scorch marks surrounded the injury, as though it had been caused by some unusual force.

“Let me take a look, alright?” Dustin asked softly.

The fox seemed to understand. It lifted its head and met his gaze. A trace of hesitation flickered in its amber eyes—but in the end, it didn’t resist.

Dustin carefully examined the injury, cleaned it, disinfected it, applied medicine, and wrapped it with a bandage.

Throughout the process, the fox trembled slightly now and then but never struggled or tried to bite him.

“All done,” Dustin said gently, stroking its head. “Just don’t get it wet for the next few days. You’ll recover soon.”

The little fox rubbed its head against his hand before limping away.

From that day on, it appeared more often.

It would curl up at Dustin’s feet while he read, wander over to sniff curiously when he brewed tea, and even allow him to stroke its smooth, soft fur.

Dustin gave it a name.

“Qyla.”

“Qyla, we’ve got your favorite salmon today.” Dustin set a small plate of sliced fish in the kitchen corner.

But that day, Qyla didn’t appear.

She didn’t show up the next day either.

A flicker of concern stirred in Dustin’s chest, but he reminded himself that Qyla was still a wild creature. Perhaps she had returned to the mountains now that her injury had healed.

Late on the fourth night, sharp, urgent scratching sounds jolted him awake.

Dustin opened the door.

Qyla stood there, soaked from head to tail.

Beside her lay a woman—also drenched.

The woman’s body was covered in wounds. Her face was pale as paper, her breathing shallow and weak. Her ancient white robes were heavily stained with blood, yet even so, they couldn’t conceal her breathtaking beauty.

It was a beauty beyond the mortal world.

Her brows resembled distant mountains, her skin was like frozen jade, and even in unconsciousness, she radiated a cold, otherworldly presence.

Qyla dragged the woman to the doorway, nudged her with her nose, then looked up at Dustin. Her amber eyes were filled with pleading.

Without hesitation, Dustin carried the woman inside and gently laid her on the sofa.

After examining her injuries, he frowned.

She had many external wounds, but the true danger lay within. Her internal organs were damaged to varying degrees, and a strange, violent energy was rampaging through her body.

Though Dustin had lost all his cultivation, his medical expertise remained.

He quickly treated her external injuries, then used acupuncture to stabilize the chaotic energy inside her. Afterward, he brewed a medicinal decoction for her internal damage and carefully fed it to her.

Throughout the entire process, Qyla never left the woman’s side. Her gaze remained fixed on her, occasionally flicking nervously toward Dustin.

“Who is she to you?” Dustin asked softly.

Qyla, of course, didn’t answer. She only lowered her head and gently nuzzled the woman’s hand.

The woman remained unconscious for two full days.

During that time, Dustin cared for her meticulously, while Qyla stayed in constant vigil at her side.

Dustin became certain—this woman was no ordinary person.

Her meridians differed greatly from those of normal people. Though the residual energy inside her was violent, its essence was extraordinarily pure, far surpassing that of ordinary martial artists.

On the morning of the third day, the woman finally stirred and slowly opened her eyes.

The instant their gazes met, Dustin nearly stopped breathing.

Her eyes were like a frozen abyss—clear, deep, and aloof, as if they could see straight into one’s soul.

When she noticed Dustin, wariness flashed across her face. She tried to sit up, but the movement aggravated her injuries, forcing a pained gasp from her lips.

“Don’t move,” Dustin said quickly. “You’re badly injured.”

The woman glanced around before spotting Qyla lying beside the bed. The tension in her eyes eased slightly.

“Did you save me?” she asked softly.

“Qyla brought you here,” Dustin replied, gesturing to the white fox. “I just did what I could.”