The Fake Heiress and Her Purrfect Partner novel Chapter 32

**TITLE: Dreams Rise Again by Braxton**

**Chapter 32**

As Nina approached Shadow’s doghouse, a surge of envy flickered within her. It was not merely a shelter; it resembled a lavish villa, complete with an array of toys and specialized training gear, nestled beside an expansive lawn that seemed to stretch endlessly.

In stark contrast, Nina’s own dorm room felt like a cramped closet, barely larger than Shadow’s bathroom. The disparity gnawed at her, but she quickly brushed it aside.

“Jason mentioned you have a special connection with animals,” Quentin remarked, his gaze piercing through her. “What did Shadow share with you during the trip here?”

Jason might have had his moments of oblivion, yet he never stretched the truth. With everything that had transpired, Quentin was already convinced that Nina possessed an extraordinary ability to communicate with animals.

Under Quentin’s unwavering scrutiny, Nina felt her throat tighten. “He said he feels really safe around me,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Quentin scanned her expression, searching for any trace of deception, but found none. The sincerity in her wide, doe-like eyes was unmistakable.

He let out a derisive snort. “You really know how to indulge in self-praise, don’t you?”

Nina sensed an underlying tension in Quentin’s demeanor, a hint of something deeper. Was he perhaps feeling a twinge of jealousy over the bond she shared with Shadow?

‘If that’s the case,’ she mused playfully, ‘I might just have to snuggle with Shadow even more—let’s see how much that irks him!’

Quentin abruptly handed her a hefty stack of documents. “Here’s Shadow’s health report,” he said, his tone shifting.

Nina flipped through the pages, her heart sinking as she read the details. Shadow was a male purebred Czech Wolfdog, six years old, yet his past was marred by violence—his spine and three legs had suffered injuries from gunfire or shrapnel.

As a search-and-rescue dog, he had spent two arduous years in the battlefield before finally returning to Quentin’s side.

The weight of his struggles hit Nina like a tidal wave, and tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Shadow, holding him tightly as if trying to absorb his pain.

Shadow, ever perceptive, nudged her gently with his head. “Vet lady, I’m okay now. I’m healthy,” he reassured her, his voice soft yet resolute.

“Besides,” he continued with a hint of pride, “Quentin got hurt more than I did. I want to be brave like him.”

Nina’s gaze darted to Quentin, surprise flickering in her eyes.

She recalled Jason’s words about Quentin—how he was a medical prodigy who had entered a prestigious medical university at the tender age of fifteen, completing his bachelor’s, master’s, and PhD by twenty-two.

He was expected to inherit the Hayes family’s medical empire, but instead, he had been deceived by his stepmother and thrust into the chaos of battlefield medicine overseas.

The brutality of that work was unimaginable. Doctors faced a relentless tide of wounded soldiers and gruesome injuries daily, often with little to no sleep, and resources dwindling.

At any moment, they could become targets themselves, stepping on landmines or contracting deadly diseases.

Nina looked at Quentin, a mix of admiration and sympathy swirling within her.

Quentin, feeling the weight of her gaze—one that resembled how one would look at a wounded creature—shifted uncomfortably.

He rubbed his forehead, attempting to dispel the awkwardness. “So, what else did Shadow share with you?”

Internally, he felt a flicker of annoyance that Shadow had divulged so much to Nina.

Nina’s voice softened, almost tender. “Shadow mentioned that you’ve endured many injuries. He wants to be brave like you, Quentin.”

A flicker of warmth ignited in Quentin’s eyes, and when he glanced at Shadow, it was as if he were looking at a beloved family member.

Just then, Jason strolled into the room, a casual air about him.

Under Quentin’s scrutinizing gaze, he instinctively recoiled, his neck retracting slightly. “Quentin, I just came to check on Shadow,” he said, attempting to sound nonchalant.

Quentin rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh really? Are you sure you’re not here to gawk at the sports cars in my garage instead?”

Jason chuckled, settling into a chair. Given that Nina was tending to Shadow, he felt a sense of entitlement as the one who had introduced them.

As Nina conducted her tests and asked Shadow a series of questions, she finally arrived at her diagnosis. “Shadow is suffering from canine post-traumatic stress disorder,” she stated, her tone serious.

“When he first returned with you, the symptoms were subtle, but they’ve escalated over time. He often confuses the present with haunting memories from the battlefield, resulting in various uncontrolled reactions.”

Quentin’s expression froze for a moment, struck by her words.

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