The first thing Aaravi became aware of was warmth. It surrounded her, seeped into her skin, wrapped around her like a second layer of existence. It was unlike any sensation she had ever known—not just physical warmth, but something deeper. A presence. A tether. A pulse of energy humming in time with her own heartbeat.
The second thing she noticed was him.
Vihan lay beside her, his arm draped over her waist, his body curved toward hers in a way that felt both foreign and utterly right. His breath was steady, his golden eyes still closed, his face softer in sleep than she had ever seen it. Gone was the hardened warrior, the wary leader. Here, now, in the early hush of morning, he was simply a man.
Her man.
The realization sent a shiver through her, but it was not one of fear. It was something else entirely—something new and thrilling and terrifying all at once.
She shifted slightly, and the movement stirred him. His grip on her tightened for a brief moment, as if he sensed her trying to move away. Then, with a quiet inhale, his eyes fluttered open.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The weight of what had happened last night hung between them, as tangible as the sunlight beginning to seep through the cracks in the tent. The world had changed, and they were no longer separate pieces of it.
Vihan's golden gaze searched hers, and in it, she saw understanding. He felt it too.
Before either of them could speak, a voice cut through the quiet.
"Well, well. I was going to ask if you two slept well, but judging by the fact that the ground itself looks like it was rearranged overnight, I think I already have my answer."
Aaravi groaned, pressing her palm against her forehead. Ronan.
Vihan let out a slow exhale, rubbing a hand over his face before sitting up. His expression had shifted from something tender to exasperation in mere seconds.
Ronan stood just outside the tent flap, arms crossed over his chest, smirking like he had been waiting for this moment his entire life.
Aaravi glared at him. "Is there a reason you're standing there instead of, I don't know, not standing there?"
Ronan shrugged. "There is, actually. The others are waiting. Something about the sky changing colors last night, the wind howling like a beast possessed, and—oh yes, the flames that shot out of the ground and didn't burn anything." He flashed a grin. "Bit dramatic, don't you think?"
Aaravi felt her stomach tighten. She had felt it too. The way the world had shifted around them, how the very air had seemed to recognize what had happened. But hearing it spoken aloud made it real.
Vihan swung his legs over the side of the bedroll, his muscles taut, his face unreadable. "They know."
"Of course they know," Ronan said, stepping fully inside now. "Half of them think you ascended to godhood. The other half are debating whether or not to kneel when you walk outside."
Aaravi rolled her eyes, pushing herself up. "That's ridiculous."
"Is it?" Ronan raised an eyebrow. "Because from where I'm standing, the two of you don't exactly feel… mortal." His gaze flickered between them. "Something happened last night. And not just in the way I assume it happened, considering I wasn't dumb enough to get close to this tent when the ground was literally shaking."
Aaravi exchanged a glance with Vihan. She could still feel it—the connection that had woven between them, the way her energy pulsed in time with his.
Vihan exhaled, pushing to his feet. "Where's the faction leader?"
"Waiting for you," Ronan said. "And they're expecting an explanation."
The morning air was crisp, the sky still streaked with strange hues that had not fully faded since last night. As Vihan and Aaravi stepped out of the tent, all eyes turned to them.
The camp was eerily quiet. People stood in small clusters, whispering, watching. The moment their gazes met Aaravi's, she felt it.
Awe.
Fear.
Recognition.
A man stepped forward—tall, broad-shouldered, his dark hair streaked with silver. His eyes were piercing, assessing, his presence commanding. This was the leader of the new faction.
"Vihan. Aaravi." His voice was deep, measured. "You are not the same as you were yesterday."
It was not a question.
Vihan stood firm. "No. We're not."
A murmur passed through the gathered warriors, but the leader raised a hand, silencing them. His gaze lingered on Aaravi, then shifted back to Vihan. "The old ways speak of such a bond. A union of flame and spirit. It has not happened in generations."
Aaravi's breath caught. They knew.
"You've changed the path we walk," the leader continued. "And now we must decide whether that is a path we will follow."
A tense silence followed.
Then, Ronan clapped his hands. "Well, this is all very dramatic, but can we get to the part where we decide whether or not we're about to be thrown out, sacrificed, or put on a pedestal? Because I'm getting tired of the suspense."
A few people chuckled. The leader sighed.
"We will discuss this further," he said, gesturing toward the central tent. "For now, Vihan, I believe you have a message to send."
Vihan stood at the edge of the camp, his falcon perched on his arm, the small parchment already tied to its leg. He had written the words carefully, each one weighted with the gravity of what had happened.
Varun,
We have arrived. Things have changed. I am not the same man you sent here. Aaravi is not the same woman she was before last night. The world knows it, and so does this faction. What happens next is uncertain, but one thing is clear.
We are no longer walking separate paths. We are one.
He lifted his arm, and the falcon took flight, disappearing into the sky.
Aaravi stepped beside him, her fingers brushing against his. "Do you think he'll understand?"
Vihan watched the bird disappear into the horizon. "He'll understand. The question is—what will he do with that understanding?"
Aaravi exhaled, staring at the sky. "Whatever comes next… we face it together."
Vihan turned to her, his golden eyes softening. "Always."