The Mosquito and the Lion

nineteen

The tension in the air sank its claws into Alia's flesh, more painful than any knife wound or kick to the head. Though Nandini had saved her life, the scholar was a long way from forgiving her.

And so, they trudged to the caves in silence. Even the trees and wildlife had deadened in fear of Nandini's simmering wrath.

Unlike the day prior, Nandini scurried ahead of Vikram and Alia. Her slim figure just a shadow in the distance. Every so often, she would turn around and tap her foot impatiently, her pink lips in a tight line, her rage rolling off of her in waves.

Their role reversal was ironic, really. Now, it was Alia who was slowing them down, but at least she had an excuse. Every time she moved her neck too much, searing pain would rip through the space between her neck and shoulder and cause her vision to blur.

Her foot caught on a branch and the ground reared up at her. And though Vikram caught her by the waist and steadied her, the movement was too much. An overwhelming ache rippled through her muscles, and she could not bite down the cry that escaped her lips. Sweat trickled down her forehead from the effort.

Vikram kept his grip on her, his rough fingers pressing indents into Alia's skin. "Are you okay?" he asked, hot breath tickling her ear.

She let out a shaky exhale, her heart hammering in her chest, begging her to take a moment to rest. But she couldn't. Arjun was behind her, and he would not let her know peace. Dragging the back of her hand against her forehead, she said, "Yes. Just... We need to hurry up."

He nodded and released her, but he stuck close, ready to catch her should she fall again.

"I'm fine, Vik," Alia mumbled. "Really."

He raised his dark brows at her, bemused. "You almost die every night then?"

"Don't tell me you were worried." She glanced at him, recalling his distressed gaze from the night before. The way his voice cracked when he begged her to keep her eyes open. It was impossible to believe this was the same Kshat guard who chased her through the streets.

"Never." He shot her a cocky smirk. "You're just my ticket to bigger and better things, princess. I don't want to spend my whole life catching petty thieves in Toshalwar."

She scoffed, ducking beneath a branch but letting the leaves caress her face. "You never caught anyone."

"Caught you, didn't I?"

Alia twisted her torso so she could look back and frown at him, but her retort caught in her throat when she saw him gazing down at her, his dark eyes alight with mischief.

The light bathed his features in hues of gold and orange, accentuating his strong nose and full lips. With his growing beard and longer hair, he looked nothing like a Kshat guard. And when she looked at him, she no longer saw his title or his job. She just saw him. Vikram.

A man who had snatched her away from everything she held dear. But also the man who would protect her until his last breath. Their fate really was the greatest cosmic joke in ages.

"Vishal set the trap. You just happened to be there," she finally managed, turning back around and continuing on their trek.

She did not have to see him to know he was smirking. If it wasn't so difficult to turn around, she would have glowered at him. Instead, she resigned to find victory in having the last word.

Alia was struck by how little she really knew about the man. For the longest time, she treated him like a caricature. Someone willed into existence to torment her, but with no story of their own. She frowned, trying to recall anything she knew about his childhood or why he even became a Kshat guard, but nothing came to mind.