Beyond the Ashes

Chapter 14

Adrenaline coursed through Sharva's veins like a tempest unleashed, driving him forward as he stormed into the building. Each step was a thunderclap of urgency, his heart pounding with a primal symphony of fear and fury. Aika's name was a silent prayer on his lips, a whisper carried by the storm within him. The doorway yielded to his momentum with no resistance, but the chaos raging inside him eclipsed any disorder the world outside could muster. His feet found the stairs instinctively, each echo a heartbeat counting down to salvation—or despair.

The ascent stretched into eternity, every step carved from fire and determination. Yet he faltered not. Every breath was a promise, every movement an oath: he would find her, no matter the cost.

At last, he reached her floor. The door to her sanctuary stood before him, a fragile barrier between despair and hope. Without hesitation, he shoved it open, the wood splintering against the wall with a resounding crash that shattered the silence like glass. The room greeted him with shadows and a suffocating stillness, the air thick with unspoken dread. His breath was ragged, his pulse a war drum in his ears, as his eyes swept across the dimly lit space.

A solitary lamp flickered weakly, casting wavering shadows that danced like specters, amplifying the tension that coiled around him.

And then he saw her.

Aika was huddled in the far corner of the room, her slender frame trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. Her arms clung to her knees, her face as pale as moonlight and etched with anguish. Her wide eyes locked onto him, pools of relief and terror mingling in their depths. She was here. She was alive. The sight of her stole the breath from Sharva's lungs, sending a wave of relief crashing over him so powerful it nearly brought him to his knees.

But before he could take a step toward her, his gaze froze on another figure.

Him.

The man stood just beyond Aika, a predator in the shadows, his presence coiled with menace. His cold, calculating expression was a blade that sliced through the fragile relief Sharva had felt. Fury ignited in Sharva's veins, a wildfire threatening to consume him. His fists clenched, his knuckles white with the force of his rage.

The man's lips curled into a sneer, dripping with arrogance. His stance taunted Sharva, daring him to strike. The room felt like the edge of a blade, suspended in unbearable tension. Sharva took a step forward, his body taut with violent intent, every fiber of his being screaming for retribution.

But then he felt it—Aika's gaze.

Her fear pierced through him like an arrow. It wasn't directed at the intruder but at *him.* At the monster he might become if he surrendered to the darkness clawing at his soul. Her voice, trembling and fragile, broke through the haze of his rage.

"Sharva..." she whispered, her tone a fragile tether pulling him back from the edge.

He froze, his breath catching in his throat. The room held its breath with him, time stretching as he wrestled the storm within. He couldn't lose himself—not here, not before her. Slowly, with immense effort, he unclenched his fists, his hands trembling as they fell to his sides. The fury within him roared, but he forced it down, locking it away beneath layers of will.

"I called the police," he growled, his voice low and unyielding, each word a promise of retribution to the man before him.

Outside, the faint wail of sirens began to rise, a distant herald of justice. The man's sneer faltered, his composure cracking as he glanced toward the door. A faint buzz crackled from his earpiece, a hurried exchange barely audible over the tension in the room. Whatever orders he received drained the arrogance from his features.

Without a word, he retreated, his steps carrying him toward the door. The sound of it closing behind him was like the shattering of chains, releasing the room from its oppressive grip.

Sharva didn't move, his ears straining to confirm the man's departure. Only when silence reigned did he rush to Aika's side, dropping to his knees as though the weight of his relief had finally overcome him.

She collapsed into his arms, her trembling body folding against his as though she might dissolve without his strength to hold her. His hands, shaking with the aftershocks of his fury and fear, stroked her back in slow, soothing motions. The world outside faded, leaving only the fragile rhythm of her breath against him.

"Aika," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

She clung to him like a lifeline, her fingers twisting into his shirt. Her tears soaked through the fabric, each drop a testament to the fear she had endured.

"Sharva," she choked out, her voice breaking on his name. "Thank you... for coming."

He held her tighter, his lips brushing the crown of her head. "You're safe now," he murmured, though his voice betrayed the quake of his relief.

Aika pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face lifting to meet his gaze. But in her eyes, beneath the gratitude, he saw a shadow—a secret that loomed heavy between them.

"I need to tell you something," she whispered, her voice trembling with a weight that made his pulse quicken.

Sharva's heart thundered as he searched her face for answers. But her gaze fell away, and when she finally spoke, her voice was a fragile thread unraveling.

"I... I'm not who you think I am," she confessed, the words tearing through the fragile peace like a storm. "My real name isn't Aika."