Max rushed toward the Thunder Dragon Empire, crossing the eastern mountain region with Freya still held firmly in his arms.

Her hands were pressed against his chest, but she was no longer pushing with the same force as before.

"How... how about you let me fly on my own?" Freya asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

She hated Max. At least, she still wanted to believe she did. She hated his arrogance, his brutal way of ruling, and the fact that he had taken her away as if she had no choice in the matter.

What unsettled her more was not only him, but herself. The warmth rising in her face, the awareness of his arms around her, and the strange discomfort crawling beneath her skin all made her want to pull away before this feeling turned into something she would regret.

"Can you match my speed?" Max muttered.

Freya opened her mouth, but no answer came out.

Her fingers tightened once against his chest before she lowered her head, partly to avoid the wind and partly because she knew he was right. She was powerful in her own way, proud in her own way, but she was not even close to Max. Not anymore.

"Why are we heading home?" she asked instead.

Max glanced down at her.

"You still think of that place as your home?" he asked. "Is Voidstar not enough?"

Freya stiffened slightly in his arms. She lifted her head just enough to look at him, her green eyes narrowing. "Can you really call a place where you barely lived a small part of your life home?"

Her eyes shone mysteriously as she spoke, the green brilliance within them glowing like emeralds beneath the sunlight. In her human form, that glow made her gaze look sharp, almost as if she had reached into something buried inside him without meaning to.

For a moment, Max said nothing.

It almost felt as if she had read his mind.

He had constantly felt that both the world he was born in and this world belonged to him in some strange way, yet neither had ever truly welcomed him. One world had given him weakness, poverty, humiliation, and finally a knife in his body.

This world had given him power, women, bloodlines, and a kingdom, but also war, death, betrayal, and enemies powerful enough to call themselves gods.

When he thought about it like that, a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"What’s so funny?" Freya asked.

She looked up at him, intending to glare, but the moment her eyes caught his face, the words in her throat weakened. Max was looking toward the horizon, his black hair blown back by the wind, his wounded body still carrying the marks of battle, yet his lips held a faint smile that made him look calmer than he had any right to be.

Freya quickly turned her eyes away, annoyed at herself more than him.

"You are not answering me," she said after a moment. "Did I touch something painful?"

Max glanced down at her. "Maybe."

"That is not an answer."

"It is the only one you are getting for now."

Freya’s brows tightened. "You are very difficult to speak with."

"And you are very difficult to carry."

Her eyes widened, and offended pride immediately returned to her face. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"I am not heavy."

"I did not say you were heavy. I said you were difficult."

Freya pressed her palm harder against his chest. "You are shameless."

"I have been called worse."

"I am sure you have."

Max chuckled quietly, and that annoyed her more than it should have, mostly because it did not carry the same weight as Thor’s laughter.

Thor’s laughter had always sounded like mockery, like a throne speaking down to the floor beneath it.

Max’s was arrogant too, but different. It sounded like a man who had already been cut too many times by life to pretend every insult mattered.

Freya hated that she noticed the difference.

"This is the second time you took me by force," she said, her voice lowering. "You know that, don’t you?"

Max’s expression did not change. "I know."

"And you still did it."

"Yes."

"Then how are you any different from him?"

For a moment, Max did not answer.

Freya regretted the question as soon as it left her lips, yet she did not take it back. Her eyes remained fixed on him.

Thor had never needed chains to make her feel trapped. His pride, title, temper, and expectations had been enough.

Max finally looked at her.

"I am not asking you to like what I did," he said. "I am not asking you to forgive it either. I needed you, so I took you."

Freya’s lips pressed together. "That is supposed to make me feel better?"

"No. Lies would make you feel better. The truth only tells you where you stand."

She stared at him for a long moment, unable to decide if she hated that answer or respected it. "You really are shameless."

"You already told me that."

"And cruel."

"I know."

"And arrogant."

"Always."

A small breath escaped Freya before she could stop it, almost sounding like a laugh. She immediately looked away, as if the sound itself had betrayed her.

"At least you admit it."

"I admit what is true. I am not a kind man, Freya. I do not rule like a gentle saint, and I do not have the luxury to pretend I can win this world with pretty words alone. But I do not enjoy crushing those beneath me just because I can."

Freya’s fingers curled slightly against his clothes.

"You speak as if everything in this world belongs to you once you desire it," she said quietly.

Max did not deny it. "Maybe it does."

"That is a terrifying answer."

"It is an honest one."

"And what if I do not wish to belong to you?"

His eyes lowered to hers. His hold around her did not tighten, but somehow his presence felt heavier."As you said, whatever I lay my eyes on will eventually become mine."

Freya froze.

The words were arrogant, almost insulting, yet they struck somewhere she did not expect. Thor would have demanded obedience. He would have reminded her of her place, her title, her duty, and every suffocating piece of tradition wrapped around her throat.

But Max, in his own twisted way, had only told her to wait and see if he could become the kind of man who would claim her one day.

"Can I slap you a few times? I think that would make me feel better."

"No, but I can slap your butt if that’s what you’re asking for."

Her breath caught, and anger flashed across her face.

"You’ll be cut down by someone one day with a mouth like that," she huffed. "What makes you think I would ever consider becoming your woman?"

Max glanced down at her, his smile turning even more shameless.

"Did I ever say that directly, Freya? Or are you already so interested in me that your mind placed you beside me before I even asked?"

Freya’s lips parted slightly.

But Max spoke first.

"But having someone as beautiful and smart as you by my side does not sound bad at all," he said, his shameless smile fading into something more serious. "At the very least, you have a charm no other woman in my bed ever had."

Freya’s eyes sharpened, but Max did not let her interrupt.

"You have self-respect. You have pride. You stand for what you care about, even when you are forced to kneel before someone stronger. That kind of woman is rare, Freya. Beauty can be found anywhere if one looks hard enough, but a woman who still keeps her spine after living under a man like Thor... that is something else."

Her hand stayed against his chest, still tense, still guarded, but no longer pushing.

"You are a horrible man," she whispered.

Max smiled faintly. "Maybe."

"And yet..." Freya looked away, her voice quieter but still edged with bitterness. "You are not as small as him."

Max blinked once.

Then his smile changed.

"Yeah, I have heard my cock is pretty huge," he said casually. "How would you know that, Freya? Have you been secretly peeking at me naked?"

For one breath, Freya did not react at all.

Then her entire face flushed red.

"You vulgar beast!" she snapped, her hand jerking against his chest so suddenly that Max’s arm shifted, and for a brief moment, her body slipped lower in his hold.

Max caught her properly again, but his grin only widened.

"Careful," he said. "If you keep moving like that, I might actually drop you."

"You shameless animal! Perverted king! Rotten scoundrel!" Freya hissed, clinging to him tighter out of instinct while glaring at him with burning embarrassment. "I was speaking about your courage, your ambition, your will to actually do what Thor never dared to do!"

"Oh." Max looked almost disappointed. "So you were not talking about my body?"

"Max!"

Her voice cracked with outrage, and for the first time since he had taken her away, Max laughed loudly enough for the black winds around them to tremble.

"It’s funny how the moment you end up in my arms, you start acting like you’re twenty again."

Freya did not answer. She buried her burning face against his chest, not because she wanted to, but because looking at him for even one more second might make her say something even more embarrassing.