CHAPTER 243: CHAPTER-243

"Wait—how..."

Suddenly, she raised her head, ready to bombard the sparrow with more questions. But the words froze on her lips. The little creature had already turned into his bird form, wings tucked close, dozing as if the world no longer existed.

Kaya let out a helpless sigh, pressing her palm against her forehead and rubbing it in slow circles. "Unbelievable," she muttered, but her movements betrayed no harshness. She carefully lifted the small bird with both hands, setting him gently on the bed. Adjusting his tiny body into a comfortable position, she pulled a hide cover over him. He didn’t stir. His breathing was steady, almost serene, like nothing could trouble him anymore.

For a moment, Kaya just stood there, staring. A strange heaviness tugged at her chest before she shook her head and turned away. Quietly, she stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

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Kaya stepped out of the room and looked at the empty hall. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Veer was out hunting today, and he wasn’t going to be back anytime soon. Which meant she had to stay here all alone for a long while.

For the first time, Kaya found herself actually missing someone. Ridiculous as it sounded, she really wished that idiot was here. His constant babbling, nonsense words, and idiotic commentary—those things that usually drove her insane—had a way of drowning out the storm in her head. Now, with only silence pressing down, her mind spun in circles, throwing questions she didn’t have answers to. And the truth was, she didn’t want to think anymore. Not tonight.

Her gaze landed on the dry bundle of grass lying near the wall. Normally Veer used it for firewood since he already had a proper bed, but now Kaya just stared at it, an odd thought slipping into her mind.

Before she knew it, she was dragging the grass onto the stone table, her hands moving quickly, almost desperately. Fifteen minutes later, she stepped back, brushing dust off her palms. In front of her stood... well, something that could pass as a human mannequin. To be honest, it looked more like a creepy voodoo doll from a late-night horror movie, but whatever—it would do.

Kaya wrapped strips of cloth tightly around her hands and dragged the grass figure to lean against the cave wall for support. She drew in a breath, pulled her fist back, and landed her first punch. The impact rattled through her knuckles, dull and biting at the same time, but the grass softened the blow just enough.

She gritted her teeth and struck again. And again. Each hit echoed faintly against the stone, a rhythm beating into the silence. The ache in her hands built quickly, but she welcomed it. Pain was better than thinking.

For too long, she had been still, fragile, dependent. That wasn’t her. That wasn’t the Kaya she remembered. And if she had to bloody her knuckles on a grass voodoo doll to feel like herself again, then so be it.

"Huff..hufff hufff"

After forty minutes, Kaya finally stopped.

The dry grass lay in ruins at her feet, crumbled into nothing but dust and brittle stalks scattered across the ground. The cloth wrapped around her knuckles had turned a deep red, but Kaya barely felt it. Her fists were clenched tight, nails digging into her palms, and her gaze remained locked on the wreckage. The anger inside her still boiled, simmering hotter than the sting in her hands.

That was the sight Veer walked in on. Arms full of fruits and a few limp wild roosters slung over his shoulder, he froze in the doorway. For a moment his chest went heavy, like a stone dropping inside him. Then, in a blur, he set everything down and rushed to her side.

"What the hell—?" His voice cracked as he grabbed her wrist. The white cloth was soaked through, fresh blood seeping at the edges. His expression hardened, but his hands were almost frantic as he pulled her toward the table.

Kaya didn’t resist, only watched blankly as he unwrapped her makeshift bandages with careful, trembling fingers. His jaw was tight, his brows drawn together in a storm of worry, frustration, and irritation.

"What were you doing, huh? Are you insane?" he muttered, low but sharp. His eyes, fixed on her torn knuckles, were filled with a kind of restrained panic he didn’t bother to hide.

When Veer finally unwrapped the cloth, his breath caught. Her knuckles were swollen, bruised black and purple, the skin split open and raw as if scraped clean. For a moment, his chest tightened painfully, almost stealing the air from him.

Without a word, he turned sharply and disappeared into the other room. A moment later he returned with a bowl of warm water, a damp cloth, and a smear of neem paste already stirred in. Setting them down with hurried hands, he sat before her and began gently wiping the blood away, his touch careful despite the storm on his face.

"Are you going to say anything," his voice was low, strained, "or just sit there like this?"

Kaya pulled her hand back, her expression flat. "It’s nothing."

That single word broke something in him. Veer’s jaw clenched, anger flaring hot in his chest. He caught her wrist again, more firmly this time, and dragged her hand back toward him.

"Nothing?" His voice rose, sharp and trembling. "Are you crazy? Look at your hand, Kaya! Where exactly are you planning to go with it like this, huh? You get yourself torn up like this and then sit here saying ’nothing’—what the hell are you thinking?"

Kaya didn’t answer. She just looked at him, her face empty, eyes flat and unfeeling—like a doll staring back at him.

Veer’s shoulders slumped. A helpless sigh escaped his chest as he finished wrapping the bandage around her bruised knuckles.

His gaze flicked to the pile of crushed grass scattered across the floor, then to the faint marks on the cave wall. His jaw tightened. How could she be so reckless? Punching stone until her skin split—what was she trying to prove?