Beads of sweat covered my face despite the low temperature of the air conditioner. What kind of strange dream was that? That witch, my mate? Over my dead body. She dared to utter the rejection words first, as if I was going to grapple over her.
It must be one of her tricks. If she thinks using witchcraft will make me like her even a bit, then she's a joker.
My inability to find the slightest hint of the girl who saved me saddened me. Her mother said she usually leaves clues but was upset with me because I had still not found her.
What pierced my heart were her last words. "If you've not found her, then she must be suffering by now. I still feel her, which means she's alive."
"Please tell me her name," I implored her, but she stared sadly at me from her cave. "If I tell you, then you don't deserve her. She didn't care about your name when she saved you, but I already gave you enough clues. Red hair and immense strength."
