Lucan was busy checking himself, unaware of how much time had slipped away in solitude. He stared at the strip of cloth that served as a bandage for his wounds. But pain still surged through him, proof that the curse remained shackled inside.
Elira must have done everything she could to tend to him in this forest, alone, with no one to rely on.
How terrified she must have been during those days. That was why she hugged him and cried so desperately.
His mind retraced every detail of what had happened at the Silver Lake — how it swallowed them both and dragged them into this forest. Piece by piece, he mapped the events, connecting each scene to the next. And in the end, it pointed to one answer: someone was behind it.
"Alec," he muttered, his eyes narrowing at the sound of the name.
The man he had met at the inn. Lucan was certain Alec was the one pulling the strings. The aura surrounding him was not ordinary; it was the kind of presence that suggested control, as though he held everything in his palm. Though he had no proof.
Lucan's jaw tightened as the thought settled. He needed to know more about that man. But first, he had to escape the forest. Whatever Alec's reason, Lucan would uncover it — and that would be his first act when he returns to the kingdom.
It was either him or Elira Alec wanted, since they had both been swallowed by the lake.
At the mention of her name, his gaze shifted. Elira was sitting with her back against a tree trunk, her eyes closed, exhaustion etched across her face.
Lucan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he sat upon the rock. He studied her quietly. The weariness in her features told him she had endured far more than she let on. Four days… what had she faced while he was unconscious?
He remembered vividly: her sitting outside the shelter, his sword clutched tightly in her hands, mumbling to herself that she would not sleep. Guarding him, even when her body begged for rest. And holding his hand tightly, as though she feared…
Lucan recalled the last moment before the curse ignited within him. That must have been why she held his hand — afraid the curse was still awake.
How silly.
The memory unsettled him. She had fought against despair alone, refusing to abandon him. That kind of devotion was dangerous — not because it made her weak, but because it threatened to unravel the walls he had built around himself.
Lucan was still convinced that she was the Saintess of the prophecy, yet the power she possessed made him undecided about abandoning or killing her. Knowing himself, being with someone was always a burden — the responsibility of protecting them weighed heavily on him. He hated that very idea. And now, here he was, nearly lost his life because of her.
Lucan let out a sharp exhale. Now it was his duty to take her.
"You told me I was necessary. Then find out why your curse bends to me. I need someone too — not just you. You don't believe me when I say I'm not of this world, but my life here is a mystery even to me, and what lies ahead is darker still. Look for yourself if I am the Saintess; I swear I am not. To survive, I must stay by your side, not because I wanted to but because you were the only person with me right now. That is the deal I offer."
"Deal…" A small laugh escaped his lips as he remembered the word she had spoken so fearlessly. Does she even know what a deal means to someone like me?
Lucan's gaze on her was now so intense that no one could have guessed what was running through his mind at that moment.
Once someone makes a deal with him, they must be prepared to honor it — no matter the cost—because there's no turning back.
A chilling smile curved at Lucan's lips as he thought of how bold she was to suggest a deal between them.
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Elira was now staring at the edge of the forest; dawn had already broken. Her mind spiraled with thoughts of what she had done and said to him the night before.
She ran her fingers through her hair roughly as the realization struck her hard.
"Ugh! Why did I said those things?" she muttered in frustration. She understands the idea of being terrified of what they've encountered but suggesting a deal with someone who wants to kill her...
No, no, no! I'm in between of life and death which is surviving. Elira said through her mind.
Her eyes flicked toward Lucan, who was preparing to begin their journey out of the forest.
"Should I be glad my head is still attached to my body?" she whispered to herself. "But the deal… I truly meant it."
She paused, her silence heavier than her thoughts. She knew she needed to cling to him.
"Oy."
Elira was caught off guard by the way he called her — "Oy."
"We're leaving. If you'd rather stay, say so."
Elira stood with sudden resolve, but that same resolve sent her sprawling.
She look up and found Lucan's gaze fixed on her, a smirk of disbelief curling his lips. Slowly, she lifted herself from the ground, only to feel the sting of fresh wound on her knee.
She brushed the dirt from her skirt. As she drew closer, Lucan's voice cut through the silence.
"Ignorance or immaturity—which is it?"
She scoffed, her tone edged with irritation.
Lucan glanced at her, his expression unreadable, then turned his gaze toward the path ahead. The faint light of dawn filtered through the trees, painting their way in muted gold.
He adjusted the sword at his side. Then, without a word, he stretched out his hand toward Elira.
Elira furrowed her brows, unable to guess what he was doing.
Lucan tilted his head slightly toward the horse standing nearby, his hand still extended. The gesture was clear — he was telling her to get on.
Elira hesitated, her eyes darting between his hand and the horse. "You want me to…?" she began, unsure if she was reading him right.
Lucan's gaze hardened. "Do you expect to walk the entire way?" His tone was sharp, but beneath it was a trace of practicality.
She pressed her lips together, then placed her hand in his. His grip was firm, steady, pulling her closer to the horse.
"Hold tight," he instructed, guiding her to the saddle. "This forest won't spare the careless."
Elira settled onto the horse, her heart pounding as Lucan mounted behind her, the weight of his presence felt strangely protective.
She turned her head toward Lucan to ask, but his sudden stare caught her off guard — their faces mere inches apart. Quickly, she withdrew her gaze and shifted away.
"W–Why am I here in front of you?" she asked, steadying her voice to keep the nervousness from seeping through.
"To watch you," Lucan answered directly.
She furrowed her brows. "Watch? What do you mean?"
"Stop talking, or I might push you off the horse," Lucan warned. But before Elira could say anything back, he held her waist and pulled her closer to him.
Elira's eyes widened and her body froze. Though it lasted only a moment, the strange sensation lingered in her mind. She felt awkward being seated in front of him.
The horse snorted, stamping the ground as Lucan took the reins. "We ride until we're out of these cursed trees," he said, his voice low. "No stopping, so hold on tight."