Arie's POV

  The first blow sent a guard sprawling, the impact reverberating through the wooden floor with a sickening crack. I have never seen Skymint angry before. His fury was unchained, raw as an avalanche thundering through rock. He moved without hesitation, a tempest of force, his body hardened against the feeble resistance of the Polarmen guards. Their wooden spears scraped against his skin, leaving nothing but shallow, insignificant marks.

  With a sharp twist, he wrenched apart the metal cuffs binding his wrists. The chain links, once formidable, now snapped like brittle ice beneath his strength. The rush of freedom electrified him. Without pause, he drove his fist into the nearest guard’s chest. The man crumpled, breath stolen before he even had the chance to scream.

  I had only a moment before more of them flooded the chamber, their weapons raised in perfect synchronization. And then, a shadow behind them—a presence that commanded silence.

  The Guardian of Polarmen.

  His frost-rimmed cloak trailed behind him, a specter of authority made flesh. He stepped forward, unhurried, the air around him sharp as the edge of a blade.

  “Stop struggling, young Polarman,” he said, voice as deep and unshaken as the tundra itself. “You have nowhere to run.”

  Skymint barely spared him a glance. He seized a spear from a fallen guard, snapping it over his knee as though it were no more than a twig.

  A slow breath steadied me. I yanked my own wrists apart, willing ice to bloom through the iron. The cuffs cracked, splintering under the cold’s relentless pressure before falling away in fragments. Magic surged back into me in a sharp, intoxicating rush.

  And just in time.

  Following Skymint’s lead, I pressed my palm to the floor, sending a thin sheet of frost spiraling outward. The guards faltered, their balance stolen by the ice creeping beneath their boots.

  I moved. A spear whistled past my shoulder as I twisted, my elbow driving into a guard’s ribs. He staggered back, winded, and I spun—another kick, another enemy sent crashing into the others. Skymint fought like a force of nature. Brutal. Precise. He caught a spear mid-thrust, yanked it free, and swung with bone-breaking efficiency, sending bodies sprawling in his wake.

  “Arie, move!”

  I turned in time to see the Guardian raise a hand. The temperature plummeted. A howling gust of freezing wind tore through the hall, sharp as daggers, and then—ice. Jagged, lethal, hurtling toward Skymint.

  I didn’t think. I reacted.

  A wall of frost erupted before me, absorbing the worst of the onslaught before I shoved Skymint aside. He landed on his feet, eyes ablaze with fury, but I could feel it—

  The Guardian hadn’t even tried.

  A sigh, low and measured. “Persistent,” he mused. “But pointless.”

  The weight of him settled over the space like a leaden sky before a storm. This wasn’t just a battle against guards. This was against something larger. Something unshakable. He took another step forward, and the air grew thick, pressing against my ribs. My breath came slow and steady despite the weight settling in my chest.

  “We have to go,” I murmured to Skymint.

  “No,” he growled. His grip tightened around the spear. “Not until I break his damn face.”

  I knew better than to argue. So I moved first.

  A surge of ice shot from my fingertips, forcing the Guardian back just enough. An opening.

  “Now!” I seized Skymint’s wrist and pulled him with me toward the exit.

  The Guardian did not follow. He didn’t need to. His voice chased us instead, curling like frostbite against my skin.

  “Run while you can,” he said, almost amused. “This land will not forget you.”

  The words pressed into me, cold and unyielding. But there was no time to dwell. More guards would come. This place was no longer safe.

  We had to move. Fast.

  The mansion groaned beneath the weight of battle, its gilded halls tarnished by the echoes of our destruction. Skymint and I carved through the corridors, breath sharp in the frigid air, the scent of blood and splintered wood thick around us. The polished floors, once a testament to grandeur, lay defiled—streaked with crimson, littered with shards of glass that crunched under our boots. My pulse thrummed, but my mind remained clear. Every step was calculated, every movement precise.

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  The Guardian of Polarmen had not revealed himself since his chilling parting words, but his presence slithered unseen, woven into the very fabric of this place. Watching. Waiting.

  More guards surged forward, their iron-tipped spears trembling only slightly in their grip. They knew who we were. Knew what we had done. Knew that Skymint’s fury alone could tear through them like an avalanche swallowing a village. And yet, they did not falter. Whether it was loyalty or fear that drove them forward, it no longer mattered.

  Skymint moved first. A storm incarnate.

  A guard lunged, spear aimed for his chest, but Skymint didn’t bother dodging. The wooden shaft snapped against his hardened frame, a hollow crack slicing through the air. Before the man could register his mistake, Skymint seized his wrist and flung him into the others, their bodies colliding like stones skidding across ice.

  I moved in tandem, fingers tightening as cold bloomed beneath my skin. A flick of my wrist, and the air shattered, frost crawling across the floor in a slick, merciless sheen. The guards stumbled, their footing lost to the ice’s treachery. One braced himself, adjusting quickly, but I was faster. A sharp kick to his knee sent him sprawling, weapon clattering from his grip.

  Behind me—movement.

  I twisted, raising my arm just as a spear arced toward me. Ice engulfed my forearm, hardening on instinct. The impact sent a dull reverberation through my bones, but I did not waver. With a calculated burst of frost, I seized his weapon in the cold’s merciless grip. The brittle wood splintered as I struck, shards cascading like frozen rain before I drove my elbow into his ribs. A choked wheeze—then silence.

  "Arie! Keep moving!" Skymint’s voice was rough, urgent.

  I didn’t hesitate. The grand hall loomed ahead, doors shut tight, sealing off the courtyard—the only thing standing between us and the pier. But before we could reach them, a dozen guards emerged from the shadows, closing ranks with chilling precision. They did not attack. Not yet.

  And then, he stepped forward.

  The Guardian of Polarmen.

  His silhouette cut through the flickering torchlight, long, fur-lined cloak trailing in his wake. There was no urgency in his step, no tension in his frame. His expression remained composed, but in his eyes—amusement, coiled and patient, like a predator that had already set its snare. He tilted his head, as if we were nothing more than pieces in a game he had already mastered.

  "You’re certainly capable," he mused, his voice a smooth contrast to the chaos around us. "But even the fiercest winter storms are predictable. You’re heading for the pier, aren’t you?"

  I forced my breathing steady. He was stalling.

  Skymint took a step forward, rage radiating from every line of his body. I caught his arm, halting him before he could strike. The Guardian had expected that. He had been waiting for it.

  "You can’t keep us here," I said evenly, though tension crackled beneath my skin.

  The Guardian smiled. "Oh, I have no intention of keeping you. But Felipe would love to. I’m merely… observing." His gaze slid to Skymint, eyes glinting with something darker. "Your companion has made quite the spectacle today. I wonder—by sunset, how much will his head be worth? I'd actually prefer him to be searched from all over the continent. Felipe would punish him very well since he's with you, the Ice Princess herself."

  Skymint went rigid, his fists trembling. A bounty. Not a capture mission—no need for chains or locked doors when the entire territory could be turned against us with a single decree.

  I exhaled sharply. No time. No hesitation. The pier. That was all that mattered.

  Ice flared from my palm, slicing across the floor in jagged, crystalline shards. Frost raced up their legs, locking them in place. The guards stumbled, cursing, but their struggle was distant noise—I was already moving.

  “Move.” I seized Skymint’s wrist, yanking him forward.

  We ran. The heavy doors crashed open beneath our momentum, the cold air searing against my skin. The scent of salt and snow filled my lungs, sharp and biting, but we didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Yet even as our escape loomed just ahead, his voice followed—low, calm, unshaken.

  “Run as far as you like,” the Guardian called after us. “Too young to be this unlucky, Polarman. And Princess, it’s not too late to betray him.”

  The words crawled under my skin like a whispered curse, but I didn’t look back. Couldn’t afford to.

  The moment our feet hit the deck of the small boat, Skymint collapsed onto the wooden planks, his breath coming in ragged, uneven bursts. I dropped to my knees beside him, gripping his arm, but he barely reacted. His body—so familiar in its quiet strength—trembled beneath my touch. Not from the cold. Not from pain. Something deeper. Something I couldn’t name.

  On the pier, the Polarmen stood in rigid silence, their masked faces unreadable. They did not raise their spears. Did not fire. They only watched.

  And the Guardian—he had not followed. He remained in the shadows of the mansion’s gate, his cloak billowing in the wind, his presence like a stain in the periphery. Watching. Waiting.

  Even as the boat drifted farther into the frozen waters, I felt him. A force unseen but inescapable, like the cold that had rooted itself in my bones long ago.

  Skymint didn’t speak. He curled onto his side, staring at nothing, his expression hollow. The fury that had driven him to tear through the Polarmen, to fight, to escape—gone. In its place, only silence.

  I swallowed hard. “Skymint.” My voice barely carried over the lapping waves.

  Nothing.

  The wind howled, filling the space where words should have been. On the shore, the Guardian lifted a hand—a gesture as effortless as it was deliberate. A reminder.

  This wasn’t over.

  A bounty would be placed on Skymint’s head. He had defied them. Shed their blood. There was no forgiveness for that.

  My hands curled into fists. This was my fault. I had led him here. I had involved him. And now, he bore the consequences.

  The Polarmen turned, retreating into their place. Their duty was done. The Guardian would not chase us now.

  But he would be watching. Always.

  I turned back to Skymint, forcing my voice to stay steady. “We’re safe now.”

  Still, nothing.

  I wasn’t sure if he even believed that anymore.