Suddenly Sparrow paused, eyes narrowing as sothing clicked in his mind. He looked between Cutie and Veer, head tilting. "Wait. Tying tubes ans—" He gestured vaguely, looking at both of them for confirmation.
Veer glanced at Cutie. Cutie glanced back at Veer. Both their faces stayed perfectly blank.
They had no idea what Kaya ant by that exactly, but they were definitely not going to let this big-mouthed bird know anything. Because Sparrow would just go around shouting about it to anyone who’d listen.
So they looked at him in perfect unison and said flatly, "You’re just a child."
Sparrow’s mouth fell open. "What? I’m already an adult!"
Cutie and Veer ignored him completely, turning their attention toward Kaya’s closed door like Sparrow had ceased to exist.
Sparrow sputtered behind them, wings fluttering in indignation, but neither of them acknowledged it.
Cutie looked at Veer. "Are you gonna knock?"
Veer paused, hand halfway raised, then dropped it. "Give her twenty minutes. Let her be alone for a bit." He sighed and rubbed his temples, exhaustion settling into his shoulders.
Cutie watched him and laughed—soft, almost fond. "You’ve gotten her habit too. Rubbing your temples all the ti."
Veer looked at him, and despite everything, a small smile pulled at his mouth. "Well, what can we do? A husband normally picks up his wife’s habits."
Cutie stared at him for a mont, then just sighed, shaking his head. He didn’t know what to say to Veer right now—this man who called Kaya his wife like it was already fact, like the elders and the council and tradition didn’t exist.
Cutie’s gaze drifted toward Liam, who’d been shoved back into the wooden box in the corner, lid closed tight. He sighed again. "Do you think it’s also because of his so-called jinx power? Everything that’s happened?"
Veer just shrugged. "I don’t know. But for , it’s a normal thing. Not a jinx. Just... life."
Cutie paused, turning to look at Veer fully now, sothing shifting in his expression. "How did you agree so easily?" he asked quietly. "That Kaya won’t have a child. Do you not want children at all?"
Veer looked at him like he’d just asked the stupidest question in the world. "Are you crazy or what?" His voice wasn’t angry—just bewildered. "Why would I care about children when I have Kaya?"
Cutie blinked.
Veer’s expression hardened, jaw tightening. "Do you even know how many females die during birth?" His voice dropped lower, rougher. "What would I do if anything happened to her?"
The question hung there, heavy and raw.
Cutie opened his mouth, then closed it. Because he understood now. It wasn’t about tradition or heirs or what the tribe expected.
It was about fear.
The kind of fear that ca from loving soone so much that losing them felt worse than losing everything else combined.
Sparrow, who’d been listening silently from behind them, finally spoke. "So... you’d rather have her than a legacy?"
Veer turned and looked at him, eyes steady and certain. "Every ti."
And for once, Sparrow didn’t have a coback. He just stood there, wings folding tight against his back, realizing that maybe—just maybe—Veer understood sothing about love that the rest of them were still learning.
Twenty minutes passed like an hour.
Veer stood outside Kaya’s door, hand raised, then finally knocked—three soft taps, just like before.
"Co in," Kaya’s voice ca from inside, flat and tired.
Veer pushed the door open slowly. Kaya was sitting on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, staring at the wall like it had personally offended her. She looked exhausted—not the kind from lack of sleep, but the kind that ca from fighting too many battles in one day.
"They’re gone," Veer said quietly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
"Good," Kaya muttered without looking at him.
Veer walked over and sat down beside her, not too close, just close enough. The silence stretched between them—not uncomfortable, just heavy.
"You okay?" he asked.
Kaya let out a short laugh that wasn’t really a laugh. "Define okay."
Veer’s mouth twitched into sothing almost like a smile. "Fair."
They sat there for a mont, the weight of everything that had happened settling around them like dust. Veer wanted to say sothing—wanted to ask if she was scared, if she regretted coming here, if she needed anything from him. But the words felt wrong, too small for what was sitting between them.
Finally, Kaya spoke. "Your father really hates ."
"Yeah," Veer said simply. "He does."
"And that doesn’t bother you?"
Veer turned his head to look at her. "It bothers that he disrespected you. That bothers a lot." His voice was steady. "But him hating you? No. That’s his problem, not mine."
Kaya’s lips pressed together, sothing flickering in her eyes—surprise maybe, or disbelief. Like she still couldn’t understand why he’d choose her over everything else.
"One month," she said quietly. "That’s not a lot of ti."
"It’s enough," Veer said.
Kaya finally looked at him. "Enough for what?"
"To figure it out." He t her gaze, steady and certain. "Whatever we need to do, we’ll do it. Together."
Kaya stared at him for a long mont, searching his face for doubt, for hesitation, for the mont he’d realize this wasn’t worth it. But Veer’s expression didn’t change. He just sat there, calm and unbothered, like he’d already made his choice and nothing could unmake it.
Finally, Kaya let out a long breath and leaned back against the wall. "You’re insane."
Veer grinned. "You’ve said that before."
"Because it’s true."
"Maybe," he said. "But you’re still here."
Kaya didn’t argue with that. Because he was right.
They sat in silence for another mont, then Veer stood up, offering his hand. "Co on. We still have to deal with Liam."
Kaya looked at his hand, then took it, letting him pull her to her feet. Her legs were still sore, her body still recovering, but she pushed through it anyway. Because sitting around feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to solve anything.
As they walked toward the door, Veer paused. "Kaya."
She looked back at him.
"I ant what I said out there," he said quietly. "I’m happy you won’t have a child. I don’t care what they think. I only care about you."
Kaya’s throat tightened, sothing warm and uncomfortable settling in her chest. She nodded once, not trusting herself to speak, and pushed the door open.
Outside, Cutie and Sparrow were waiting, both of them looking tense. The wooden box sat in the corner, lid closed tight, Liam trapped inside like the problem they’d been avoiding.
"Alright," Kaya said, voice steady now, back in control. "Let’s finish this."
***
They dragged the box to the center of the room and pried the lid open.
Liam sat inside, cramped and pale, eyes blinking against the sudden light. He looked worse than before—thinner, weaker, the kind of broken that ca from days in the dark with nothing but your own thoughts.
But that smug little smile was still there, sitting at the corner of his mouth like a dare.
Cutie and Sparrow hauled him out and shoved him into a chair. His wrists were still bound, hands tied behind his back, but he didn’t struggle. Just sat there, tilting his head like this was all very amusing.
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