The forest was dense, ancient, its towering trees woven together like the threads of a forgotten world. The thick scent of moss and damp earth clung to the air, mingling with the faint, distant fragrance of night-blooming flowers. Golden shafts of sunlight speared through the heavy canopy, illuminating the floating motes of dust that danced lazily in the fading light.
Aaravi inhaled deeply, the crisp, cool air tingling against her skin. She had always felt a kind of solace in nature—in the quiet harmony of the wind rustling through the leaves, in the rhythmic hum of unseen creatures whispering to each other in the undergrowth. But today, something was off.
The stillness was unnatural.
The usual chorus of birds had gone silent. Even the wind, which had earlier played between the trees, had stilled into an eerie hush.
Vihan sensed it too.
His golden eyes were sharp, scanning their surroundings with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine. He had moved into a defensive stance without even realizing it—shoulders squared, fingers flexed near the hilt of his dagger, breath slow and steady.
Aaravi's heartbeat quickened. "Vihan…"
His voice was barely more than a breath. "I know."
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to remain calm, but the growing unease in her chest made it difficult. Someone was there—watching, waiting.
A branch snapped.
The sound was so small, so subtle, that a less trained ear might have missed it.
Vihan didn't.
His hand shot to her arm, pulling her behind him in a single, fluid motion.
And then, it happened.
A blur of motion. A shadow stepping from the trees.
The attacker moved like a phantom, fast, precise, deadly. A blade flashed, slicing through the air in a silent arc aimed for Vihan's throat. He twisted away just in time, the dagger missing him by inches.
Aaravi stumbled backward, her pulse hammering in her ears.
Vihan retaliated instantly, his own dagger drawn in a heartbeat, clashing against the attacker's with a ringing scrape of steel. Sparks flew between them as they locked into battle.
The stranger was fast. Faster than most warriors she had seen. Each movement was measured, each step calculated. But there was something off about the way they fought.
They weren't trying to kill.
They were testing him.
The realization settled in Aaravi's chest like a lead weight. Who was this?
And then, the attacker's blade slid against Vihan's in a sharp, controlled twist, forcing a momentary pause between them.
And he spoke.
"Still quick on your feet, Phoenix."
Aaravi's breath hitched.
The voice was smooth, edged with amusement—but there was something dangerous underneath it.
Vihan froze.
A moment later, the attacker stepped into the dying sunlight, his hood slipping back to reveal his face.
Aaravi's stomach dropped.
Tall, lean, clad in battle-worn leathers that had clearly seen the brutality of war. His features were sharp, lined with scars, his hair dark and tousled. But it was his eyes that caught her attention—piercing, cold, watchful.
She knew that face.
Vihan's voice was dangerously low. "Ronan."
The name carried weight, history—a shadow of something long buried.
Ronan's smirk widened. "It's been a while."
Aaravi's mind raced.
She had heard that name whispered before—spoken in hushed conversations by passing warriors, mentioned in stories of old alliances that had long since crumbled.
Ronan.
A man who had once fought beside Vihan.
A man who had disappeared.
Vihan's grip on his dagger tightened. His eyes were like burning embers, glowing with something dangerous.
"What do you want?"
Ronan tilted his head. "Straight to business? No reunion speech?" He sighed dramatically. "You wound me, Phoenix."
Vihan didn't react. "Answer the question."
Ronan exhaled, rolling his shoulders lazily. "Alright, fine. I was sent to track you. Maybe stop you, if necessary."
Aaravi's pulse spiked. Sent?
By who?
Vihan stepped forward, his movements controlled but lethal. "Sharvani?"
Ronan's smirk faltered. "No."
Aaravi's brows furrowed. "Then who?"
A pause.
And then—
"Varun."
The name hit like a physical blow.
Vihan stilled, his entire body coiling with tension.
Ronan let out a small, humorless chuckle. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"
Vihan's dagger did not lower. "You're lying."
"Am I?" Ronan's eyes glinted. "Varun gave the order. He wanted to know if you were truly alive. If you were truly—" His gaze flickered to Aaravi. "—alone."
Aaravi's chest tightened.
Varun had sent Ronan not just to find Vihan—but to see if he had found her.
Aaravi.
Vihan's grip tightened around his weapon. "And if I was alone?"
Ronan shrugged. "Then my orders were to watch and wait. But since you're not…" He let the sentence trail off, eyes studying Aaravi. "You complicate things, healer."
Aaravi stood her ground. "And you're no ordinary mercenary."
Ronan's smirk softened, something almost unreadable flickering behind his eyes. "No. But you already knew that, didn't you?"
Aaravi's chest constricted.
Because she did.
She had seen him before.
Not like this—not standing, not armed, not moving with the effortless precision of a killer.
But lying on a healer's cot, barely breathing.
She had saved him.
Vihan's golden eyes burned. "You were supposed to be dead."
Ronan chuckled, shaking his head. "Almost was. Your healer here made sure that didn't happen."
Vihan's head snapped toward Aaravi. "What?"
Aaravi exhaled slowly. "I—I didn't know who he was."
Ronan smiled, something almost bitter behind it. "Fate's funny, isn't it?"
Silence stretched between them.
Then, finally—
"I can help you."
Vihan's expression was unreadable. "You expect me to believe that?"
Ronan met his gaze. "Believe what you want, Phoenix. But the people pulling the strings? They don't want you alive. And they definitely don't want you with her."
Aaravi's breath caught.
Ronan's eyes flickered between them before he spoke again, softer this time.
"I'm done taking orders."
Vihan studied him for a long moment.
And then, finally—
He lowered his blade.
Ronan smirked. "I knew you'd make the smart choice."
Vihan's voice was still laced with warning. "If you betray us—"
Ronan chuckled. "You'll kill me? I figured." He glanced at Aaravi. "Good thing your healer's already patched me up once."
Aaravi rolled her eyes.
Vihan sighed. "We move at dawn."
Ronan nodded. "Then I'd suggest getting some rest."
Aaravi wasn't sure if he meant for the journey ahead— or for what was coming.
Either way, nothing would be the same.