Chapter 108
“…!”
At a sudden sound, Arzeletta sprang up from her seat. Her eyes, wide with surprise, darted around.
Hoo—hoo.
Only the call of the night owl could be heard.
But Arzeletta could feel it.
It’s happening again.
It was that strange pull she had experienced the night before.
No.
She thought firmly, shaking her head as if trying to alert herself.
The moment she recognized the situation, her heartbeat began to change.
The heart that had swelled like a naive adolescent girl’s quickly tensed and became shallow.
Arzeletta recalled the man who stood at the end of this pull. A supreme man she dared not even imagine.
She remembered his ice-cold eyes, the chill of his muscles as they brushed her body, the rough sound of his breath in her ear.
And more than anything, she remembered those violet eyes, scratched as if torn apart.
He had desired her and suffered for it. Arzeletta felt that she couldn’t bear to face those eyes a second time.
Out of all the looks she had endured—of hatred, contempt, and loathing—the look Ragnar had given her last night had been the hardest to withstand.
No.
Not even her own body, which had responded to him so naturally. Last night had truly felt like a strange dream.
And dreams… are meant to break when morning comes.
“No, Arzeletta.”
Arzeletta spoke to herself, softly but firmly. She shook her head.
Even so, her feet moved of their own accord. She couldn’t stop them.
Dreams were supposed to end. And yet, some dreams repeated—haunting the night and consuming her sleep.
It was about an hour later when Arzeletta appeared before Ragnar.
He caught her in his arms the moment she collapsed.
Her expression was more worn than ever, her face pale with exhaustion. Her feet, worn thin from trudging through rough terrain in the dark, were covered in scrapes—the same wounds as the day before. Her ankle looked twisted again—and worse.
“…My lord.”
Still in his arms, Arzeletta called out to him.
The man who looked down at her with a stunned expression seemed unable to understand what was happening. But neither could she. She didn’t know why she was here—why her body had moved like that.
His gaze was sharp—cold and intense. She had already experienced Exion’s eyes, but Ragnar’s were something else entirely. They pierced deeper. His icy stare stung even more.
“You…”
She said nothing.
“How did you…!”
“I don’t know, my lord,” she murmured.
There was silence.
“I hear your voice calling me,” she whispered, “and my body just moves on its own. I don’t even know where I’m going, but I end up following you. To me…”
She trailed off, her eyes clouded with confusion.
“What is happening to me?”
The place where Arzeletta had found Ragnar was at the foot of Mount Derden, near the forest’s edge. There were no watchfires here, no village close by—just the pitch-black trees surrounding them.
Ragnar brushed the damp strands of hair from his forehead, his fingers briefly pausing as he looked down at her.
She was looking up at him like he was the only truth in the world. It hit him hard.
It felt like something inside of him was collapsing all over again.
Too many emotions were crashing into him at once, and he didn’t know where to begin.
Even on the battlefield, when he’d fought for his life, he’d never felt this shaken.
He said nothing. Instead, he shifted his stance and gently lifted her into his arms.
It was the same as the night before.
He hadn’t expected this—to be holding her again the moment they met—but there was no stopping it. Everything was spiraling beyond his control.
“Stay here for a moment.”
He set her down carefully on a low, flat rock.
She reached for him, her fingers barely brushing his sleeve. It was instinct. The darkness scared her.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, steady but quiet.
“This is where I cast a barrier a while ago.”
Arzeletta blinked slowly, her eyes fluttering open just enough to take in his face. She didn’t ask for more details.
Ragnar turned away and scanned the dark forest around them.
“…One night wasn’t enough,” he muttered to himself.
“From yesterday…”
His voice dropped.
“I can’t allow the dead to cross into my territory. I don’t even know what brought them down this far. They shouldn’t have been able to leave the forest, let alone reach the lakeside.”
He stepped up to a tree and placed his hand against the trunk.
He stood there for a while, unmoving. It was as if he were reading something only he could see. From his fingertips, a faint, transparent light began to spread out—barely visible in the darkness.
Arzeletta watched, holding her breath.
“As long as they appear before me,” Ragnar said quietly, “there won’t be a second time like yesterday.”
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