𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒐𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒆

PART-38

Rain pounded against the pavement in torrents, icy needles slashing her skin like a thousand tiny knives. Her hair, heavy and drenched, clung to her cheeks, while her dress plastered to her trembling frame like a second skin.

She stood barefoot on the slick asphalt, her toes curling under in a futile attempt to escape the chill that crept up from the earth and seeped deep into her bones. Each breath came in ragged bursts, visible in the cold air as her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.

He stood before her, a silhouette carved in rain and shadow, his eyes burning through the downpour like embers.

An electric jolt shot through her as their gazes locked. Neither of them moved. The world stilled around them, except for the rain crashing down between them like a fluttering curtain.

All at once, with a swift, confident movement, he stepped forward – one hand gripping her nape, his fingers tangling in her wet hair, the other sliding around her waist. Before she could speak, could even breathe, he yanked her closer, his lips crashing into hers with a fierce desperation that seemed to consume them both.

Her eyes flew wide. She tasted rain and salt. Her lips parted without her meaning to; her body arched into him. She clutched his soaked collar, dragging him closer as though she could dissolve into him, escape inside him. The world around them melted away, blurring at the edges, leaving only the rhythm of their breathing and the roar of the rain when—

—a sudden, brutal rupture tore through her body.

She gasped, stumbling back as her eyes widened. Blood gushed from her abdomen, warm and thick, mixing with the icy rain. A dagger protruded from her stomach, merciless and cold. Her breath hitched, her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the ground.

As she looked up, her gaze met his—only to find a twisted smile spreading across his face, his eyes glittering with a cruel light dancing in the darkness.

Slowly, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and laughed. "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" His laughter echoed through the rain. In the blink of an eye, his expression shifted, his jaw clenched, and he kicked hard at the hilt of the dagger.

"AHHHHH…!"

"Ahh!" Ira's body jolted upright, her eyes snapping open as a sharp gasp tore from her lips. Her chest heaved, heart racing like a wild animal. One hand clutched the mattress, the fabric twisted tightly in her fist as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality. The other shot up to her forehead, wiping away the sweat clinging to her skin.

The dim glow of the green night bulb cast eerie shadows that danced across the walls. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the familiar shapes and contours, but her mind clung to scattered images: rain pounding against her skin, a kiss that burned through her, the cold steel of a dagger, and blood pulsing in time with her panicked heartbeat. The scream—"Ahhh…!" —still echoed in her mind, raw and distant, as though it belonged to someone else entirely.

"What happened?"

Ira flinched, her head snapping toward the sound.

Panchhi rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn, her voice hoarse with sleep. "What happened, Ira di?"

Ira stared at her for a long moment, her face still etched with a fear she had not yet escaped. Her hand drifted to her stomach, trembling fingers brushing over the curve of her abdomen, searching for something – a wound that wasn't there. Her nightclothes were soft and dry beneath her touch.