Rebirth Of The Forgotten Heiress - Chapter 26: Chapter 26

If Yasin and Quinlyn had both time-traveled with a goal—and with that mark on his head—she wouldn't have even asked. His purpose would've been totally obvious: compete with other guys for Yalena's attention.
But clearly, that wasn't the case. He didn't seem like someone who'd jumped through time, and yet here he was, hanging around her. She was confused but too exhausted to dig into it. So she just came out and asked.
The fire crackled, sending sparks flying. The light flickered across Yasin's face. He hummed, like he was trying to figure out how to answer.
"What, is that so hard to say?" Quinlyn pressed.
Yasin let out a soft laugh, low and quiet. If it weren't for the stillness of the dark and how close they were, she never would've heard it. But that tiny sound, like an invisible thread, wrapped around her gently.
"Nah, I was just trying to find the right way to talk about this whole 'destiny' thing," Yasin whispered. "After all, I am your very first tenant—"
Quinlyn cut him off instantly. "Okay, hold up." She finally got why some people stayed single—they just couldn't stop talking nonsense.
She zipped herself into her sleeping bag, grumbling, "If you don't wanna tell me, just say so. No need to spout those cheesy pickup lines—it's creepy. You schemer!"
With that, she buried her head in the bag, wrapping herself up like a cocoon.
Yasin clicked his tongue softly. He was tempted to pull out his phone to search "cheesy pickup lines." He really wanted to know why everything he said came off like some cringy flirt.
Night settled in. The fire burned down to a few glowing embers, their light fading slowly.
Yasin climbed into his sleeping bag too. The cave was small, so they were close—close enough that besides the smell of smoke, he caught a faint, sweet scent, like her perfume.
He pressed his left hand over his right. No sharp pain flared up, like he'd half-expected. In the dark, he watched her for a second, then closed his eyes.
Even Yasin didn't get his own situation. He figured maybe he should find some spiritual healer to drive out whatever was messing with him, which seemed way more reliable.
'It's nothing serious,' he thought. 'Just some weird nightmares, random pain that shifts around, and watching myself die. But right before I blacked out, a little girl was there, pushing a piece of candy into my hand.'
Yasin woke up to total darkness—the cave was pitch-black. A face loomed right over him, and even for someone as fearless as he was, he froze instantly.
But as he realized who it was, his shoulders relaxed. Still groggy, his voice came out rough. "What's up? Trying to take advantage of me in the middle of the night, young lady?"
He drew out the words "young lady," like he was savoring them before letting them go.
Quinlyn remained silent. Suddenly, she couldn't even roll her eyes at his corny lines—his voice was way too sexy for its own good.
As she was still hovering over him, he brushed a hand through her hair, then let it slide down to her waist. "Wanna keep going?"
Quinlyn scrambled back, landing hard on the leftover embers. They were warm—borderline hot. She froze for a second in the dark before stumbling to her feet.
Yasin glanced over at where she'd fallen, his eyes flicking over the pile of ashes vaguely. "Burn your butt?" he asked, his tone serious.
But Quinlyn wasn't buying it. She clutched her backside and snapped, "Shut up!" It was hot, sure, but not burning—just a sharp, stinging warmth.
"Sounds like you did burn yourself. Got any cream?" Yasin asked again.
"Just stop talking!" Quinlyn inched back to her sleeping bag. She'd packed a change of clothes, and now she just needed to crawl in and swap them out.
But that burning sensation slowly crept through her pants. This kind of pain was different—sharp, like being singed by fire, impossible to ignore.
Yasin sat up, his tone dead serious. "It's been pouring nonstop, and we'll be stuck here for days. If you don't clean it up, it'll get infected. Don't be stubborn. Even if it's on your butt, you—"
Quinlyn cut him off with a flustered huff. Here she was, in the middle of the night, arguing with a guy about her butt—could this be any more awkward?
"You're the one who started this. Can you just be quiet?" she snapped. "I've got a mean streak, you know? I'll grab a fire poker and whack some sense into you."
Yasin frowned.
Quinlyn pressed on, "I was asleep. But you sounded like you were dying in your dream. I thought you might just drop dead on me."
The truth was, Yasin never screamed or anything, even in his worst nightmares. But his low, ragged groans were getting to her. She'd tried to ignore them, but they just kept getting worse—those muffled, painful sounds eating away at her nerves.
She'd called his name, but he didn't stir. So she leaned over to shake him. Next thing she knew, he'd pulled her in. Before she could scramble up, he'd opened his eyes, staring like she was up to something while he slept.
The timing was just so perfect that it looked like she'd meant it, even though she hadn't. And to top it off, she'd gotten hurt.
Yasin didn't doubt her. He knew he got stuck in bad dreams a lot. "Then you..." he said, circling back to their earlier topic.
"I'm fine!" Quinlyn's voice came out muffled, thick with irritation.
Yasin finally gave up pressing, but not before adding, "If it gets worse, tell me. Don't tough it out."
After all that, sleep was out of the question. Quinlyn just felt trapped—miserable. She'd told herself a hundred times coming back here would be worth it, but so far, it was proving the opposite.
This place, where the story's main characters crossed paths, was a magnet for chaos. Quinlyn had barely taken a walk when she ran into Zachary, soaked to the bone.
The group had found a stash of supplies the day before, but with eight people splitting it, it was gone by morning. Zachary, not used to sharing, had wandered off alone to find more supplies.
Predictably, he'd come up empty, only managing to get himself covered in filth. And with the terrain so slippery, he'd fallen into a pit without much effort.
Quinlyn couldn't help griping when she saw the scene. 'Never noticed before, but man—why are there so many dang pits everywhere?'
But that was exactly how the original plot went. After Quinlyn hauled Zachary out and carried him back, she learned he and Yalena had argued over something totally ridiculous.
As Yalena saw him all beat up, she started crying, and just like that, they were back to being all mushy again. And Quinlyn? She was just wallpaper in the background.
Quinlyn peeked at Zachary in the pit and got ready to split, leaving the perfect chance to play heroine to Yalena.
But after an hour in the rain, Zachary couldn't take it anymore. When he spotted Quinlyn, he started yelling right off.
"Nah, that's not how you ask for help. Say uncle, and I'll haul you out," Quinlyn grinned.