Even after all her tempting words, Oliver couldn't bring himself to become Isolde's "specimen." At least, not for now. His instincts screamed that letting her carve runes into his heart wasn't a risk he could afford, no matter how sweetly she described the rewards.
So he forcefully shifted the topic.
"Alright, enough of that crazy talk. What we need to figure out is how to get out of this hellhole. I've been trapped in here long enough. I'm sick of stale air and walls. I want to see the open sky, breathe fresh air, and—" he clutched his stomach, "—eat something that isn't roasted dungeon rat."
Isolde's lips curled in amusement.
"Of course I know a way. I know every nook and cranny of this dungeon. The only question is… how do you want to leave? Climb all the way up the floors… or teleport out instantly?"
"Is that even a question?!" Oliver shot back without hesitation. "Teleport, obviously!"
