She sighed.
Not like she was the one who would build them with her own hands anyway. But it still meant more mouths, more space, more risk. And right now, Kaya hadn’t even managed to borrow a spot for herself to sleep. Renting a proper place here required either being a shopkeeper or paying a hefty fee—and she was neither.
She didn’t even dare go back to the cave where she’d stashed her things. If someone followed me... it’d be over. Too many eyes. Too many unknowns.
Backtracking and returning would draw attention, and she wasn’t in the mood to gamble tonight.
So instead, Kaya made a quiet decision—just for the night, she’d take shelter in the grove down the path. The trees there were strong and low. Hidden enough to keep her out of sight. It was only a five-minute walk, and right now, that felt like the smartest move.
When she got there, she found a sturdy branch and climbed up. Her body moved with practiced ease despite the dull ache in her limbs. Sitting against the thick trunk, she leaned back with a small grunt and looked at the stars between the branches.
Back at the cave, she knew cutie was still healing the injured, tirelessly pushing his little hands over every wound. Vayu was likely hauling water again, quietly and without complaint.
And here she was—on a tree again.
Kaya stared at the bark beside her hand and let out a tired, half-laugh.
"Am I some kind of monkey?" she whispered to herself. "Always sleeping in trees these days..."
Kaya had just closed her eyes, hoping for even a sliver of rest, when a familiar wave of irritation rolled through her. She sighed, clearly done with everything and everyone.
"What are you even doing here?" she muttered, not bothering to open her eyes.
Hovering nearby, Veer flapped lazily in the air, that ever-present smirk playing on his lips. He looked downright pleased with himself.
"Wow, sweetheart," he said with a low chuckle, "you can sense me even with your eyes shut? I didn’t know you were that in love with me."
At that, Kaya’s eyes fluttered open—slowly, deliberately—and she gave him a flat look.
"You smell, Veer. That’s how I know you’re here."
Veer’s face froze for a second. He spun around, gave himself a theatrical sniff, then turned back to her, lips twisting in mock disbelief.
"Seriously? Come on, you’re joking. I smell amazing—like power, danger, and charm wrapped in leather and sweat."
Kaya didn’t even blink. "You smell like you rolled in a pit of roasted ego and forgot to bathe."
He winced dramatically, then grinned and gave her a playful nudge on the shoulder. "Ah, Kaya. You wound me."
She raised a brow, unamused. "I can fix that. Permanently."
Her eyes were beginning to shift—soft safari blue bleeding into the blackness of her pupils. A silent warning. The kind of look that said she wasn’t bluffing.
But instead of backing off, Veer leaned in just a bit closer, lowering his voice to a slow, dangerous whisper. He placed his hand gently over her chest, right above her heart.
"If you want my life," he said, "just say it."
His gaze locked with hers, intense but soft, as if the teasing had slipped just slightly into something real.
"I’ll rip out my heart and lay it at your feet, sweetheart. You won’t even have to lift a finger."
Kaya stared at him, silent.
And for a moment, under the pale silver moonlight, with her heart beating just under his hand... she didn’t move.
Kaya looked at him, confused. She didn’t know why, but she felt both annoyed and... hurt. Like something inside her chest had been pulled apart.
The way he called her sweetheart—it felt too familiar. Like she had heard it before. Like he had called her that a thousand times, and she had answered just as many.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember when or where.
This wasn’t the first time either.
The first was with Cutie. The moment she saw him, she had felt something shift inside her. Like she already knew him. Like she had met him before. And now again—with Veer.
Why did they feel so familiar? Why did she feel so lost every time she looked at them?
Chatak
Chatak
Suddenly, the sound of a sharp snap broke the silence. Kaya turned her head toward it.
Veer—still floating lazily beside her—had snapped his fingers and was now looking straight at her, eyes sharp and focused like he’d been reading her thoughts.
"What?" she asked, trying to sound irritated, though her voice came out softer than she meant.
He smirked. "Lost in my beauty, sweetheart?"
Kaya blinked, caught off guard for a second. That nickname again.
She rolled her eyes, masking the strange twist in her chest. "No. I was just wondering how someone like you manages to survive without a mirror."
Veer laughed, that easy, confident kind of laugh. "Oh, I don’t need one. I have you staring at me like I’m art."
Kaya narrowed her eyes, arms crossing as she shifted slightly on the branch.
"You’re seriously full of yourself," she muttered.
Veer smirked, wings fluttering behind him. "Well, someone has to be, sweetheart. You’re too busy sulking in trees like an angry cat."
Kaya scoffed. "Better than flying around like a mosquito who thinks he’s charming."
"A mosquito?" Veer gasped, hand over his heart like she’d truly wounded him. "Sweetheart, I’m more like lightning. Fast, dangerous, and unforgettable."
"Yeah, well, lightning strikes once. You just keep buzzing around and refusing to leave."
He grinned, floating closer. "And yet, here you are, still talking to me. Maybe you like the buzzing."
"I like silence," she snapped back. "Which is why your voice is a crime."
"Ouch," Veer said, chuckling. "That mouth of yours really needs a license for how sharp it is."
Kaya leaned forward, eyes glinting. "And you need a leash. Or a cage. Or better yet, a one-way ticket out of my life."