CHAPTER 226: CHAPTER-226

He could have been in his fifties... or maybe seventies. It was impossible to tell. His movements were too steady, too sharp, for someone of old age.

Without delay, the doctor dropped to Veer’s side, pressing fingers to his wrist, then his neck. His gaze flicked briefly to the dark hollows beneath Veer’s eyes, his frown deepening. "We need to lay him down," he said firmly.

Veer’s father immediately bent, helping to lift his son with surprising care, his earlier fury tempered by fear. Veer’s brother moved quickly at his side. Kaya followed, but her steps were slower, her eyes darting around as she entered deeper into the mountain cave.

To her surprise, the inside wasn’t wild or bare like she expected. The cave had been carved, reshaped—almost like a home. Smooth stone walls. Wide corridors that split into rooms with carved archways. Doors fashioned from heavy slabs of polished wood. It wasn’t just a den; it was a stronghold.

When they reached a chamber at the end of the hall, they lowered Veer onto a broad stone bed covered with thick quilts. The doctor leaned over him again, carefully prying open his eyes, checking his mouth, feeling the faint tremor in his pulse. His expression softened slightly.

"He’s stable," the doctor murmured. "But weak. His body is under strain... he must rest. No stress, no agitation. We’ll need to watch him until morning."

At those words, Kaya let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. But the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease completely. Her eyes moved from Veer’s pale face to the figures around him.

Veer’s father adjusted the quilt carefully over his son, his large hands surprisingly gentle. For a moment, the harshness in his features softened. He bent low, brushed a hand through Veer’s hair, and murmured in a voice Kaya hadn’t thought him capable of, "Be well, son."

But the tenderness lasted only a heartbeat.

As he turned, his gaze fell on Kaya, and the warmth in his face twisted into something venomous. His eyes darkened with hatred, his jaw tightening as though her very presence poisoned the room.

"You!" His voice rang like a blade scraping stone. "How dare you—"

His steps thundered toward her, each one heavier than the last, his teeth bared as though he were ready to tear her apart with his bare hands. Kaya didn’t flinch. Her finger itched toward the hidden gun at her side, though her heart beat hard in her chest.

But before he could reach her, a hand pressed against his chest, halting him.

It was Veer’s eldest brother.

"Dad." His voice was calm, low, but firm—the tone of someone used to standing between fire and storm.

Veer’s father’s head snapped toward him, eyes burning. "Get out of my way. Now."

The eldest son didn’t move. He shook his head slowly, shoulders squared. "Dad, calm down."

"Calm down?" Veer’s father’s voice cracked, half growl, half roar. He jabbed a finger toward the bed. "Look at him! Look at Veer! See his condition? And all because of her. He has never set foot outside in the cold—never. You know how terrified he is of it. But still—because of her—he went out there. Look at what it’s done!" His voice trembled now, more grief than fury, though his rage masked it well.

For a long breath, no one moved. The cavern air was suffocating, thick with unspoken words. Kaya’s nails dug into her palms, her anger simmering beneath her calm expression. He doesn’t even know me. He doesn’t know what Veer chose.

Then the eldest brother spoke again, his voice softer but weighted with reason. "Dad. I know you’re worried. But you also know Veer. He’s stubborn. If we try to force him, he’ll only push back harder. You’ve seen it before." His hand remained pressed against his father’s chest, unyielding. "If we provoke him now, if we try to separate him from her, he will do something reckless. You know that."

The words hung in the chamber, undeniable.

The father’s breath came hard, ragged, as though every word had been an insult carved into his pride. His gaze flickered from his eldest son’s calm defiance to Veer’s fragile body lying on the stone bed, then back to Kaya. Hatred simmered in his eyes still, but beneath it—fear. Fear of losing his son.

"Our priority," the eldest brother finished, voice steady, "is making sure Veer survives the night. Nothing else."

Veer’s father’s gaze lingered on his youngest son—his beloved, his weakness—then swung back to Kaya like a blade drawn from its sheath. His voice dripped venom, every syllable a curse.

"I don’t care. Get this woman out of my sight. Keep her away from my son—or I swear, I will kill her."

The words echoed against the stone walls, cold and absolute.

The eldest son didn’t flinch. He simply inclined his head once, his voice flat. "Okay, Father."

With that, Veer’s father spun on his heel, his cloak snapping in the air as he stormed out of the chamber. The heavy silence he left behind was louder than his threats.

Kaya’s eyes followed his retreat, her stare like ice piercing into his back. But she said nothing. Only when the cavern quieted did she turn to Veer’s brother, her tone sharp, cold, almost mocking.

"What?"

He exhaled slowly, shaking his head, the faintest trace of weariness softening his expression. "Nothing. You can stay in the first room." He lifted a hand and pointed toward the chamber across from where Veer lay.

Kaya narrowed her eyes. "What? You’re not worried I might kill your brother while he’s weak?"

For a moment, his lips curved—not into mockery, but into something closer to a sad, helpless smile. He held her gaze, unblinking, and spoke quietly:

"No. Even if you did, he would die happy. But..." His eyes darkened just slightly, and his smile thinned into something more serious. "If we so much as laid a hand on you... I don’t know what he would do."

The weight of his words lingered, as if even he feared testing the truth behind them.