"Elflame," he muttered. "So this is the anchor point."
Elflame was the city just outside the Academy—controlled by the Academy itself. They had arrived in a hotel room, and now he had just stepped out, standing on the quiet street. It wasn't as busy as it usually was, which meant the Academy was currently out of session.
"Haah… Haa… Haa…" He glanced over his shoulder and saw Anna stumbling behind him, barely dressed. Her clothes clung to her awkwardly, clearly thrown on in a rush. A few men nearby stared—some grinning, others simply gawking like fools.
"Can you not look like a slut? You're drawing attention," he said sharply, unaware that while his face was being reconstructed, it had been completely altered. The scarf he wore now served no purpose; no one could recognize him anymore.
"Tch," Anna clicked her tongue in irritation, tugging her dress down. It had ridden up significantly as she struggled to adjust the bra she had gotten in the hotel room earlier, offering passing perverts too much to imagine beneath the absurdly short hem.
"Where… are you taking me?" she asked, uneasy. Ever since he'd uttered those cold words about killing her, she'd known her life was in his hands. He had no intention of letting her go.
"You'll see," he replied without even a tilt of his head.
"Teleportation gate," she muttered, recognizing the route they were taking.
He didn't respond.
His mind was elsewhere entirely.
She looked around. The place was practically deserted. The merchants had all returned to their kingdoms to chase profit. Every second counted in their world.
She glanced down at her palm.
The tattoo was gone.
She didn't understand how it worked—it seemed to only respond when she tried to defy him. Her gaze shifted upward, her teeth clenched in frustration. What had she gotten herself into? She should have been with Auston. She didn't even know if he had recovered. And even if she wanted to check, she couldn't. Her teleric had been lost in the chaos. She couldn't contact Nora. Nothing.
'Stupid, stupid, stupid…' she clutched her head, overwhelmed.
She couldn't even forget what happened that morning. For a moment, she thought she had lost the one thing she had saved for Auston's nineteenth birthday next month—her first time. She had waited, preserved herself for that special night to seal their relationship. But then... this morning. In that vulnerable, exposed moment, she had felt—
Horror.
It almost happened. To someone she despised. A cowardly, pathetic weakling who had hurt the man she loved.
But he hadn't done it.
She should've felt relief. She did. But she was annoyed too. Angry, even. That look he gave her—that indifferent, dismissive look. Like she was just average. Like she was the only one fooling herself when she looked in the mirror and smiled, thinking she was irresistible.
Was it her pride?
Maybe he didn't even find her attractive.
Would Auston still find her appealing?
Now she began to doubt everything.
"We're here," she heard him say.
She looked up. A long queue snaked its way toward the teleportation gates.
"Go," he said, handing her an ID pulled from his spatial ring. Then, without shame, he manifested her own money and handed it to her.
"Go buy tickets to Frosten."
She frowned.
"The North Pole?" she asked, eyes widening as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Yes," he replied flatly.
"Are… you stupid?" she blurted, unable to contain herself.
The North Pole?
WHO THE HELL RANDOMLY GOES TO THE NORTH POLE?!
"Are you sure you want to find out?" he asked, those emotionless eyes pinning her down. She hated them. Hated how powerless they made her feel.
But she wasn't powerless.
She could kill a billion weaklings like him in a minute. And yet… here she was, walking toward the counter like an obedient dog, purchasing the damn ticket.
'What do I do? I have to do something,' she thought, her mind spinning. She didn't yet understand the true nature of the contract binding her to him, but she had to find a way out. There had to be something—a loophole, a clause, anything that could free her.
"Where to?" asked the young man at the counter.
"…Frosten," she replied.
He raised an eyebrow. She looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place her.
"Frosten?" he echoed.
"Yes…" she sighed.
"Can I see some ID?" he asked politely.
She passed it to him.
The moment his eyes landed on her name—then the surname—his expression changed instantly.
His eyes widened in shock.