Chapter 3

Elara POV

As night fell over the mountains, the temperature in the snowy peaks plummeted, and the wind howled like a wild beast.

I hovered above the campfire, watching the dancing orange flames.

I couldn't feel the temperature, but I knew my corpse must be freezing.

The deadwoods where I fell rarely saw sunlight, and the snow was knee-deep. My blood had probably already frozen into dark red ice shards.

In the camp, they had changed into heavy polar tactical jackets.

Julian rubbed his freezing hands and threw a piece of firewood into the flames. "Elara is really stubborn. It's freezing out there, and she's still holding out instead of crawling back to beg for mercy."

Cassius's face was dark. He glanced at his luxury watch; it was eight o'clock at night.

"She's doing this on purpose to disgust us," Cassius said coldly. "She knows it's Serena's birthday today, so she has to use these underhanded disappearing tricks to ruin the mood."

Dante leaned back in his folding chair, his brow furrowed tightly.

He picked up his phone and dialed my number. The screen lit up, and I saw the name he had saved for me: The Burden.

"The subscriber you have dialed is currently unreachable."

The robotic female voice was exceptionally piercing in the quiet camp.

Frustrated, Dante threw the phone back onto the table, producing a dull thud.

"Let her be," Dante snapped. "Let her freeze in the snow for a night and suffer a bit. Otherwise, she'll always think the whole planet revolves around her."

Suddenly, Serena sneezed.

Cassius immediately took off his heavy winter coat and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders.

Julian hurried to grab the thermos. "The temperature drop in this hellhole is too extreme. I'll pour you a cup of hot water."

Dante stood up, walked briskly to the supply tent, and brought back a whole pack of thermal hand warmers.

They were originally prepared specifically for me.

He ripped the packaging open and personally pressed the warmers into Serena's palms.

Serena held the warmers, looking at him timidly. "Dante, aren't these Elara's? If she comes back later and sees me using her things, she'll definitely throw a fit again."

Dante let out a cold sneer.

"Does she even have the right to throw a fit?" Dante said harshly. "We went to such great lengths to hire actors to help her overcome her psychological barriers. And what does she do? She plays the ungrateful victim and goes off the grid."

I looked at the warmers pressed against Serena's palms.

It reminded me of the Syndicate's Winter Survival Trial last winter.

It was also in the snowy mountains. It was also the four of them.

Serena had accidentally sprained her ankle, crying from the pain.

Cassius, Dante, and Julian took turns carrying her on their backs as they hiked back.

I walked at the very end of the line.

My altitude sickness was severe; with every step, my heart felt like it was going to explode.

I coughed up a mouthful of blood-streaked phlegm.

I grabbed Dante's sleeve, begging him to slow down.

Dante turned around, his eyes full of absolute disgust.

"Elara, can you stop playing the fragile victim?" he reprimanded. "Serena really can't walk anymore. Can't you be a little more mature?"

He violently shook off my hand.

I stumbled and fell hard into the snow. They didn't even look back.

I crawled alone in the sub-zero blizzard for four agonizing hours.

By the time I made it back to camp, two of my toes were severely frostbitten and had lost all sensation, ultimately requiring the removal of necrotic tissue.

But no one cared.

They were all gathered around Serena, looking heartbroken over a bruise on her ankle the size of a fingernail.

The campfire crackled.

Julian took a sip of hot soup and suddenly laughed. "Do you guys think Elara is hiding in some tree hollow crying her eyes out right now? When we head down the mountain tomorrow, she'll definitely be following us in disgrace."

Cassius chimed in coldly: "No one is allowed to talk to her tomorrow. We have to teach her a lesson."