The girl grinned, her golden eyes glinting with satisfaction as she drank in Ethan's terrified expression—the sa expression she had worn the night before.
The flas in her hands flickered excitedly, as if mirroring her emotions, eager to consu him.
Yes.
She was going to take her revenge. Right now.
Ethan's breath ca in short, shallow gasps. His body scread at him to move, to run, to do sothing, but his back was already pressed firmly against the cold wall. There was nowhere to go. His entire body trembled, cold sweat trailing down his spine, soaking his shirt, his forehead damp with fear.
Last night, for so reason, her flas hadn't hard him. But now? He could feel the heat radiating from them, the scorching air making his skin prickle, his lungs struggle to pull in oxygen.
This ti, she wouldn't hold back.
"I'm going to die."
His mind raced, grasping at anything, any plan, any hope of escape. But he found none.
Fight? He barely knew how to throw a punch, let alone face soone who could wield magic. On Earth, he had never been in a real fight, never been pushed into a life-or-death struggle. And now, in this unfamiliar world, in a body that wasn't even his... what chance did he have?
No. If he tried to fight, he would lose.
His hands clenched into fists. But I have to do sothing. If I don't—
The girl took another step forward, slow and deliberate, savoring every second of his fear.
Otherwise, I will definitely die.
Desperation clawed at his throat. His voice cracked as he pleaded, "Please... I'm sorry. It—it wasn't my fault! I—I—"
The mont the words left his mouth, she snapped.
Her entire expression twisted with fury.
She lunged.
The fire around her surged, flaring violently as her golden eyes widened with pure rage.
"Not your fault?"
A hollow, humorless laugh tore from her lips, sharp and jagged like broken glass.
"Ha... ha... ha..."
She glared at him, stepping closer, the heat of her flas forcing him to press himself even harder against the wall.
"Not your fault?" she repeated, her voice dripping with malice. "Then whose fault is it?"
The air in the room grew suffocating, thick with magic and barely contained fury.
"Was it that cowardly dog of your family?" she spat, her voice trembling with rage. "The one who was stronger than but didn't dare face head-on? The one who ambushed in my own ho, bound , and threw into your bed for your enjoynt?"
Ethan's blood ran cold.
She wasn't just angry.
She was seething.
"Or was it the mayor?" she continued, her tone sharp as a blade. "The one who conveniently sent my brother away for ten days so he wouldn't be here to protect ?"
She took another step forward, her fire casting long, jagged shadows across the room, her presence overwhelming.
"Tell , Ethan." Her voice dropped to a whisper, thick with venom. "Who do I bla? Who should I burn?"
Ethan's mouth went dry. He had no answer. No words that could change the storm that was about to consu him.
Because in the end—
She was right.
What happened to her last night was horrible.
Ethan knew that. He could empathize with her, but at the sa ti, he knew himself.
He wouldn't do sothing like that. No matter what.
What happened last night had many factors involved.
First, he was transmigrated into this body. He had no control over it at the ti.
Second, that damn curse—the one the system had inford him about. One of its effects was to force him to act in ways he wouldn't normally.
So, in truth, it wasn't his fault.
But she didn't know that.
And she probably wouldn't believe him even if he explained.
Ethan swallowed hard, his throat dry as sandpaper. His eyes darted to the fire swirling around her fingers, the deadly glow reflecting in her golden irises.
"But I don't want to die."
She stepped closer.
The heat was unbearable now.
He stamred out, "I... I unbound you."
She froze.
Ethan saw her eyes flicker with sothing—hesitation? He latched onto it.
"I unbound you," he repeated, breathless. "If you wanted, you could have pushed away."
Her brows furrowed.
For a mont, she looked... stunned.
Ethan didn't waste the opportunity.
"You could have stopped ," he pressed.
He thought—no, he swore—that he saw the faintest hint of red on her face.
But was it from the fire... or sothing else?
It didn't matter. He had to keep going.
"So... it shouldn't really be my fault, right?"
The flas around her flickered, the intensity lowering slightly as she cast her gaze downward.
"...You did do that," she muttered.
Ethan felt hope.
An opening.
"And your fire," he said carefully, "it didn't burn . Even when it touched ."
She blinked, looking down at her hands, her voice softer, "Yes... it didn't burn you then."
Ethan exhaled, relief flooding through him.
Maybe—just maybe—he could get out of this without being burned alive.
But then—
She lunged.
Ethan's breath caught in his throat as her eyes blazed with renewed fury.
"But let's see if it works now."
Her hand slamd against his chest—right over his heart.
This ti—
He felt it.
A searing, unbearable pain.
Fire.
Burning him from the inside out.
Ethan's scream tore through the room, raw and agonized, his back arching, his fingers clawing at her wrist in a desperate attempt to pry her hand away.
His vision blurred, his body convulsing in sheer agony. His breath hitched as he choked on a ragged gasp, his mind blank with white-hot pain.
She laughed.
A dark, mocking laugh.
She was enjoying this.
"Ha... ha... ha...."
She tilted her head, watching him with cold, predatory amusent.
Drinking in his suffering.
Just like she had suffered.
"You think I'm stupid?" she sneered, pressing her palm even harder against his chest, making him cry out again.
Her golden eyes glead with cruel satisfaction.
"Whatever happened last night for whatever reason my fals didn't burn you it doesn't matter."
Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
"You will pay. I will make sure you'll wish you were dead."
Ethan's world was nothing but fire and pain.
And this ti—
There was no escape.
----------------
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