[Sequel of Warm Love, hence can't be read as a standalone.]
In the first phase, Reyansh concealed a web of mysteries, but as they stand face to face once more, it's Kiraz who holds the tantalizing secrets waiting to be unveiled. These hidden truths...
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His whole world was spinning. Blurry vision, with every blink of eyes. Ropes cutting the skin of his wrist, scrapping raw. Arms strained from the way it hanged, stretched apart. The smell of drug and blood which reminded him of death gusted in his nose with every breath. His head throbbed, skin straining from the cut at his forehead, blood dripped down.
Staying awake seemed a struggle. A challenge. But Reyansh Rathore loved challenges. It pumped his blood in a feral way, igniting his adrenaline, lethal like violence his eye finally open. For he got his woman to save.
Blinking the heavy lid, straining to keep his focus straight he sees four dark shadows stretched on the concrete ground.
Two of them he knew but the rest two like a loop it hangs on his neck.
The walls were bare, their cracked and peeling paint adding to the sense of neglect and confinement. Shadows danced ominously across the concreate floor, cast by the dim, erratic light.
Squeezing his eyelids shut, he forces them open once again but it's already too late. They had already exited the room, leaving him alone with just two guards. Just two. They had to have underestimated him. A smile curbs his lips, twisting as he lets out a hiss. Or maybe not. If they'd truly underestimated him, they wouldn't have left him alone with only two guards. They were convinced that a wounded wolf would pose little threat.
They had forgotten they were dealing with a monster.
The guard who was the closest heard the hiss of pain, his shoulder straight. A flicker of fear crossed his face as he glanced over his shoulder, just to see the Reyansh's eyes wide open, brimming with a cold, calculating fury.
He runs to his mate, whispering urgently, "He is awake."
The other guard throws a jaded look at Reyansh. "He'll be out for another hour."
"I don't think so. He's wide awake."
The other guard snorts dismissively. "Even if he is, what's he going to do? His hands are tied to the pole."
Reyansh curled his lips into a smirk. "Well, if you're that sure, then you won't mind if I try my luck, will you?" He watched with satisfaction as their relaxed poses faltered, the confident air of invulnerability slipping away, "Which one of you wants to be killed first?"
The guards exchanged perturbed glances, their earlier nonchalance fading. The room seemed to close in around them. One of the guards shifted, his hand drifting nervously toward his weapon—a gun, while the other's gaze darted back to Reyansh, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
With a sudden, deliberate effort, he tested the strength of his restraints, pulling against the pole with every ounce of strength he had left. The ropes bit into his wrists, but he ignored the pain, focusing instead on the faint creak of the bindings. To no avail; they budged not.
