“And next time, they won’t send someone as weak as him.”
Thalia did not answer immediately.
She stood beneath the streetlights, watching Acheron as the night breeze moved along the empty road and lifted a few strands of hair from her shoulders.
Everything around them had already returned to normal.
The streetlights were on again.
Her phone had regained its signal, and even the electronic lock on the museum’s side entrance was working as though nothing had happened.
A car passed somewhere in the distance, its headlights briefly sweeping across the intersection before disappearing into the night.
The street looked exactly as it had before.
But Thalia knew what had happened was real.
The cold that had nearly frozen her in place, the unnatural shadow around her ankle, and the stranger’s words before he disappeared—none of those things had been an illusion.
And Acheron was right about one thing.
Now that those people had found her, they were unlikely to give up.
Ivan had clearly reached the same conclusion, but there was little point discussing it in the middle of the street.
Instead of immediately questioning Acheron, he first looked Thalia over carefully.
Only after confirming that she had no obvious injuries did some of the tension leave his face.
He steadied her lightly by the arm.
“Let’s go home first.
We can deal with the rest tomorrow.”
Thalia nodded.
After everything that had happened, she was exhausted.
She had no objection to leaving and turned to follow Ivan toward the parking area.
The moment her right foot touched the ground, however, a sharp pain shot through her ankle.
Thalia sucked in a breath.
Her leg gave way, and her body swayed.
Ivan caught her immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
“My ankle hurts.”
Frowning, Thalia steadied herself and looked down at her right leg.
When the strange shadow had wrapped around her earlier, she had felt only the terrible cold and the sensation of being unable to move.
There had been no real pain, so once the danger passed, she had not thought much about it.
Now the cold had not disappeared with the shadow.
If anything, it had become more distinct.
It felt as though something icy remained beneath her skin, slowly sinking deeper.
Even her lower leg had begun to feel faintly numb.
Thalia bent down and pulled up the leg of her trousers.
Under the streetlight, both of them immediately saw the dark mark circling her ankle.
It did not resemble a bruise.
There was no swelling or redness, and the color was uneven, more like gray-black smoke trapped beneath the skin.
Several thin lines branched from it, spreading faintly upward.
Ivan’s expression darkened.
“Did that happen just now?”
“Probably.
I didn’t notice it before.”
Ivan crouched and reached toward her ankle.
Before his hand could touch it, Acheron’s low voice came from behind them.
“Don’t.”
Ivan stopped and looked back.
Acheron had already approached.
He gave no immediate explanation.
His eyes lowered to the dark mark around Thalia’s ankle, and for the first time that night, something colder entered his otherwise unreadable expression.
Thalia noticed.
“You know what this is?”
“Something they left behind.”
Acheron crouched in front of her and reached toward her leg.
Ivan blocked him first.
“Explain.”
Acheron looked up at him.
Ivan clearly had no intention of moving until he received an answer.
After a brief silence, Acheron said, “It’s a tracking mark.
As long as it remains on her, they can find her wherever she goes.”
Ivan’s expression changed immediately.
Thalia looked down at her ankle again.
The mark itself was faint, almost harmless in appearance, but after what had happened tonight, she had no intention of treating it like an ordinary injury.
“Can you remove it?”
“Yes.”
Acheron answered without hesitation.
Before Thalia could fully relax, he had already taken hold of her lower leg and lifted her right foot slightly.
The movement was so sudden that she instinctively tried to pull away, but his grip remained steady.
“Don’t move.”
“You could at least warn me first.”
Thalia sounded more exasperated than angry, but she stopped resisting.
Acheron said nothing.
His thumb brushed lightly along the edge of the mark.
The thin lines beneath Thalia’s skin reacted instantly.
They moved.
Several dark threads suddenly stretched farther up her leg.
A sharp, needle-like pain followed.
Thalia stiffened and drew in a breath.
Acheron released her immediately.
When he stood again, his expression had grown noticeably colder.
“This can’t be dealt with here.”
Ivan had seen the mark move as well.
His brow tightened.
“Where do we need to go?
A hospital?”
“A doctor won’t even be able to see it.”
Acheron glanced at Thalia.
“If we leave it alone, it’ll keep spreading deeper.
The longer we wait, the harder it will be to remove.”
Ivan did not insist on ordinary medical treatment after hearing that.
“Where are you taking her?”
“Blackthorn Manor.”
Thalia looked at him.
“What’s Blackthorn Manor?”
Acheron’s gaze shifted to her.
“My residence in the human world.”
The words human world came so naturally from him that Thalia went quiet for a moment.
She had known for some time that Acheron was not human.
She also knew that whatever he truly was, his identity was far more complicated than anything he had told her so far.
But hearing him describe the world she had lived in all her life as simply the human world made that difference suddenly feel much more real.
Somewhere beyond everything familiar to her, Acheron clearly had another place he truly belonged.
Now was not the time to question him about it.
Ivan had already taken out his car keys.
“Give me the address.
I’ll drive her.”
“No.”
The refusal came immediately.
Ivan’s hand stopped.
He looked up.
“Then I’m going with her.”
“No.”
This time, Acheron did not even pause to consider it.
Ivan’s expression cooled.
“She’s my sister.
I’m not letting you take her somewhere alone.”
“I know.”
“Then you should understand that I’m going with her.”
Acheron looked at him in silence.
He did not appear to be considering Ivan’s demand so much as deciding whether the argument was worth continuing at all.
Thalia saw the atmosphere between them worsening and stepped in.
“Why not just let Ivan come?
You’re only treating the mark.
Once it’s done, we’ll come back.
It shouldn’t take that long.”
Acheron finally looked at her.
“Troublesome.”
Thalia stared at him.
Ivan’s expression became even darker.
“Whether I’m troublesome is not for you to decide.”
Acheron ignored him and looked down at Thalia’s leg instead.
In only a few minutes, the thin lines around her ankle had spread slightly farther upward.
Apparently, that was enough to end his patience.
Acheron raised one hand and made a casual motion through the air.
Something rippled around them.
Ivan sensed that something was wrong, but before he could say a word, he disappeared.
There was no flash of light.
No violent burst of power.
One moment he was standing beside Thalia.
The next, he was simply gone.
Thalia stared at the empty space for several seconds.
Then she slowly turned toward Acheron.
“…Where is my brother?”
“Inside the museum.”
“You sent him back?”
“Yes.”
Acheron sounded as though he had merely moved something out of the way.
Thalia stared at him in disbelief.
For a moment, she could not decide whether to worry about Ivan or get angry at the man standing in front of her.
“You just sent him away?”
“He’s fine.”
“I know he’s fine.
That’s not the point.” Her voice rose slightly.
“You could have told him first instead of just doing whatever you wanted.”
Acheron looked at her calmly.
“If I told him, would he have agreed?”
Thalia stopped.
No.
Judging by Ivan’s attitude a moment ago, he absolutely would not have agreed.
He probably would have stood between them until Acheron explained everything to his satisfaction.
That did not make Acheron’s method any less overbearing.
“Even if he wouldn’t agree, you can’t just—”
Another sharp pain shot through her leg.
Thalia instinctively shifted her weight, but the moment she put pressure on her right foot, the entire leg seemed to lose its strength.
She stumbled sideways.
Before she could react, an arm wrapped firmly around her waist and pulled her back.
Thalia caught the front of Acheron’s coat by instinct.
Only after regaining her balance did she realize how close they were.
One of Acheron’s hands remained at the small of her back, steadying her through the fabric of her clothes.
His other hand held her arm.
Thalia was almost entirely against him.
All she had to do was lift her head slightly to see his face.
Their eyes met.
For some reason, all the complaints she had been ready to make about Ivan disappeared for a moment.
They were too close.
Close enough for her to feel his breath.
Close enough to catch the faint, cold scent that always seemed to cling to him.
It took Thalia two seconds to remember that she was still gripping his coat.
She released it.
“I can stand now.”
Acheron did not let go.
Instead, he glanced down at the right foot she still refused to put any weight on.
“Can you?”
Thalia followed his gaze and immediately felt less certain.
She still tried to move away.
The hand at her waist remained exactly where it was.
She looked up again.
“Acheron, I really can stand on my own.”
“And fall again?”
“I wasn’t paying attention.”
“The result is the same.”
Thalia had no answer to that.
Before she could come up with another argument, Acheron apparently decided he had heard enough.
He bent down without warning, slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back, and lifted her straight into his arms.
The sudden loss of the ground beneath her feet startled Thalia.
Her arms went around his shoulders automatically.
Then she realized what he had done.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you with me.”
“I can walk.”
“We already tested that.”
“You don’t have to carry me like this.”
Acheron looked down at her.
“Do you have a faster way?”
Thalia opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
With her ankle hurting every time it touched the ground, walking anywhere on her own would take far longer.
She understood that.
Understanding it did not make being carried in his arms any less awkward.
They were far too close.
Even the slightest movement brought her shoulder against his chest.
Thalia adjusted the arm around his shoulders.
“You could have warned me.”
Acheron glanced at her.
“Now you know.”
“…”
Thalia gave up.
She was beginning to think Ivan should have stayed after all.
At least then she would have had someone else to share the frustration of arguing with Acheron.
The thought had barely crossed her mind when the world around them began to change.
The wind disappeared first.
Then the streetlights.
The museum behind them and the distant buildings faded beneath a deepening darkness.
There was no violent movement and no blinding flash of light.
The city simply vanished from around them.
A sudden sensation of weightlessness made Thalia tighten her arms around Acheron.
Her body instinctively pressed closer to his.
By the time she realized what she had done, her face was almost against the collar of his coat.
That faint, cold scent became much clearer.
Thalia stiffened and was about to pull back when the darkness around them dissolved.
The night wind returned.
But the air smelled completely different.
The familiar mixture of traffic, dust, and damp pavement was gone.
In its place came the cool scent of wet earth, grass, and trees.
There were no voices nearby.
Thalia raised her head.
They were no longer in the city.
Deep among the trees stood an old manor.
Dark stone walls were covered in thick climbing vines.
Warm light shone through tall, narrow windows, while steep sections of the roof disappeared among the branches overhead.
A stone path led toward the main house.
Dense thorn bushes grew along either side, so dark beneath the night sky that they nearly blended into the surrounding woods.
The place was not nearly as sinister as Thalia had expected.
It was simply quiet.
Strangely quiet.
Not oppressive, but isolated, as though the entire estate existed apart from the world outside.
Still in Acheron’s arms, Thalia looked around.
“This is Blackthorn Manor?”
“Yes.”
“You live here?”
“Sometimes.”
She was about to ask another question when Acheron started along the stone path.
“Wait.
We’re already here.
You can put me down.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You can’t walk.”
“It hurts.
That doesn’t mean I can’t move at all.”
Acheron did not slow.
He only looked down at her.
“Who almost fell a minute ago?”
Thalia fell silent.
She was beginning to understand that Acheron rarely bothered explaining himself, and once he had decided something, changing his mind was nearly impossible.
Since arguing was getting her nowhere, she stopped wasting the effort.
The manor doors opened on their own as they approached.
No servants came to greet them.
There were no voices inside.
The entrance hall was quiet, with only the distant crackle of a fire somewhere deeper in the house.
Once they entered, Thalia realized the interior was even older than the exterior suggested.
Dark wooden furniture, heavy rugs, and antique decorations filled the rooms, all bearing the marks of another era.
Yet nothing looked neglected.
Everything was immaculately maintained.
Acheron carried her through the entrance hall and into a sitting room.
A large stone fireplace occupied nearly half of one wall.
Flames burned steadily inside, filling the otherwise cool room with warm, golden light.
Only when they reached a long sofa did Acheron finally lower her.
The moment her feet touched the floor again, Thalia felt an unexpected sense of relief.
She still avoided putting any real weight on her right foot and carefully sat back.
“Just so we’re clear, once you deal with this, you’re taking me home.”
Acheron did not agree.
He crouched in front of her.
“We’ll see.”
Thalia was already beginning to dislike those words.
“Why is it always ‘we’ll see’ with you?”
“Because I don’t know how deep the mark has spread.”
He held out a hand.
“Give me your leg.”
Thalia looked down at him.
“Can’t I do it myself?”
“Do you know how to remove it?”
That silenced her immediately.
She did not.
With a quiet sigh, Thalia leaned farther back against the sofa.
Once she stopped objecting, Acheron supported her lower leg and pushed the fabric of her trousers slightly higher.
The mark had become noticeably darker.
Several thin lines now extended farther up her skin, clearly visible beneath the shifting firelight.
Thalia’s expression grew serious.
“It’s worse, isn’t it?”
“Yes.
But there’s still time.”
Acheron lifted her right leg and rested her calf across his knee.
Then he placed his palm over the cold skin.
His hand was cool at first.
Thalia instinctively pulled back, but his other hand immediately steadied her leg.
“Don’t move.
It won’t take long.”
His voice was quieter this time.
Thalia looked at him, then slowly relaxed.
Warmth began to spread from Acheron’s palm into her skin.
It was not intense, but it was unmistakable.
The lingering cold in her leg gradually retreated beneath it.
The dark lines that had been creeping upward stopped.
Then, little by little, they began drawing back toward her ankle.
But as the marks retreated, the pain grew sharper.
Thalia’s brow tightened.
At first, she could tolerate it.
When the needle-like pain became stronger, however, her hand instinctively reached for the nearest thing she could hold.
Only afterward did she realize she had grabbed Acheron’s shoulder.
He looked up at the same moment.
Their eyes met without warning.
Firelight moved across the side of his face, softening features that usually seemed almost unnaturally cold.
Thalia suddenly realized this was the first time she had looked at him this closely without danger surrounding them—and without Ivan standing nearby, ready to interfere the moment Acheron did something he disliked.
The room was quiet.
Only the occasional crackle of burning wood broke the silence.
Thalia became abruptly aware of the hand resting on his shoulder.
She started to pull it away.
“Leave it.”
Her hand stopped.
“I’m not that afraid of pain.”
“Then let go.”
Thalia looked at him for two seconds.
Another sharp pulse went through her ankle.
After a brief silence, she very naturally put her hand back where it had been.
“No.”
This time, Acheron was the one who went quiet.
A moment later, he lowered his gaze and continued working on the mark.
For just an instant, as the firelight shifted across his face, the corner of his mouth seemed to move.
Thalia caught it immediately.
“Did you just smile?”
“No.”
“I saw it.”
“You were mistaken.”
“Acheron.”
He did not answer.
Thalia watched him for another moment before finally giving up and leaning back against the sofa.
The room settled into silence again.
Wood crackled softly in the fireplace, casting warm light over the edges of their clothes.
As the cold slowly disappeared from Thalia’s leg, the tension that had remained with her since leaving the museum finally began to ease.
Even the pain no longer seemed quite as difficult to bear.
Back at the museum, Ivan stood in the archive room in stunned silence for only a few seconds after Acheron sent him there.
Then he immediately headed for the corridor.
He crossed the building quickly and pushed open the side door.
Cold night air met him.
The streetlights were on.
The road looked completely normal.
But the place where his sister had been standing was empty.
Both Thalia and Acheron were gone.
Ivan remained in the doorway for several seconds, his expression slowly darkening.
He knew exactly why Acheron had sent him away.
That only made him more irritated.
Rather than waste time standing there, Ivan took out his phone and called Thalia.
At Blackthorn Manor, the quiet sitting room was suddenly filled with the sound of a ringing phone.
Thalia snapped out of her thoughts and looked toward the coffee table.
The screen was lit.
Ivan.
The moment she saw his name, she remembered what she had forgotten.
Acheron had taken her away so abruptly that she had not even had time to send her brother a message.
“Oh no.”
Imagining Ivan’s expression right now, Thalia immediately reached for the phone.
The movement shifted her right leg, which was still resting across Acheron’s knee.
He steadied it at once.
“Don’t move.
I’m not finished.”
“My brother’s calling.”
“I can see that.”
“Then let me answer.
He can’t find me.
Of course he’s going to worry.”
“Wait.”
Thalia looked at the phone, which was close enough to see but just out of reach.
Then she looked down at Acheron, still crouched in front of her.
With no other choice, she leaned back against the sofa again.
The phone continued ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
With every ring, Thalia felt a little more uneasy.
“Ivan is probably losing his mind right now.”
Acheron did not look up.
“He isn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“He knows you’re with me.”
Thalia went silent.
She thought about that for a moment.
Somehow, instead of reassuring her, the answer made the situation sound considerably worse.
She lowered her gaze and looked at Acheron very seriously.
“I think that’s exactly why he’s worried.”
Acheron’s hand paused.
A moment later, he looked up.
Their eyes met again.
A log shifted in the fireplace with a soft crack.
Thalia waited for him to argue.
Acheron remained silent for several seconds.
In the end, he said nothing.
Apparently, even he knew she was right.