CHAPTER 261: CHAPTER-261.

"Veer," he said, slowly, deliberately, "she is an outsider. She does not belong here."

The words dropped like stones into the silence. Every vulture froze, feathers prickling, waiting for the eruption.

Veer’s chest rose and fell violently, his fists clenched so tight his nails cut his palms. His father’s tone, his words—calm, dismissive—were worse than any scream.

"Outsider?" Veer’s gaze darkened, his eyes locking onto his father’s with a cold, unblinking fury. His voice was low, but every word struck like a blade.

"Dad, she is an outsider for you... for these idiots. But for me—she is my life. And I will not make the same mistake you did... leaving my wife to die."

At that, his father flinched, the nerve struck too deep. His composure shattered, and rage burst from him.

"Veer!" he roared, his voice echoing through the tribe.

But Veer only bared his teeth, stepping closer, his own voice breaking into a thunderous shout.

"Shouting won’t change anything, Dad! Because of you, I lost my mother. But I will not lose my wife—not because of you, not because of anyone!"

He jabbed a finger into his father’s chest, his whole body trembling with fury.

"I will find her. And if I don’t... if I can’t bring her back today—then you will never see your son again."

Silence fell like a hammer. Not one vulture dared to move. Even Veer’s father stood frozen, his rage burning but his hands empty, his son’s words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit.

Veer didn’t hesitate. He sprinted to the cliff’s edge, the wind whipping around him, and with a deafening scream that made every vulture in the vicinity cover their ears, he leapt into the void. Midair, his body shifted, feathers spreading, talons forming—Veer had transformed into his vulture form.

The air shook with the power of his dive. Below, the mountains loomed, jagged and merciless, but Veer’s eyes were fixed only on one goal.

Veer’s older brother froze for a moment, staring at the cliff, then clenched his fists and moved. He ignored the frantic shouts of their father.

"Where the hell are you going?!" his father bellowed, rage cracking his voice for the first time.

"Going to find her," the oldest son replied, voice steady, defiant.

"You’re crazy!" their father shouted. "If he wants to throw his life away, let him—but you are not going anywhere!"

"I don’t care," the older brother shot back, his tone icy. "She was in our care. She is gone now. It is our responsibility to find her. And I won’t let Veer worry more than he already is."

Without another word, he leapt off the cliff. Wind tore past him as his body shifted, wings unfurling, and he surged into the sky, following Veer’s streaking form.

The father stood at the cliff’s edge, trembling with anger and disbelief. Below, two vultures carved a path through the clouds, unstoppable, resolute, and fueled by the fierce bond of family

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.

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Kaya paused mid-step. Her lungs felt tight, not from lack of oxygen but from sheer exhaustion. She hadn’t eaten anything last night, her body was weakened, and the path ahead stretched endlessly, like it had no end. With a groan, she sank to the ground and tilted her head back.

Above her loomed a massive rock, wedged unnaturally into the sky. It was like a giant boulder had rolled here and stuck, blocking the sun in a perfect patch. The shade it cast was a small mercy in the relentless heat of the day. Kaya sighed, deciding to rest. She needed to eat, to recover even a little, before moving forward again.

Carefully, she dug into her bag, pulling out dry jerky and a handful of dried fruits. A few walnuts rolled out, their shells stubborn and unbroken. She looked around, found a sturdy stone, and began cracking them one by one, her fingers stiff and sore. The sound of shells splitting echoed faintly in the quiet of the valley, a tiny relief in a place that seemed otherwise devoid of life.

Kaya ate slowly, savoring each piece. Every bite was a small victory, a brief return to the strength she feared she had already lost. After a moment, she leaned back against the cool stone, letting her eyes close, drawing in what little calm she could muster before the long journey ahead.

High above the jagged cliffs, Veer hovered in his vulture form, his eyes scanning the terrain below with sharp intensity. Every ridge, every stone, every shadow flickered under his gaze. The wind whipped against his wings, carrying the scent of the mountains and the faint traces of Kaya’s passage.

Behind him, his older brother followed, also transformed, wings slicing through the air with effortless strength. He kept his eyes trained on Veer, ready to follow any lead, ready to act. The two of them moved as a single unit, silent but alert, cutting across the sky with purpose.

"Do you see her?" his brother called, his voice almost lost in the wind.

Veer shook his head, scanning the narrow valleys and treacherous paths. "Not yet. But she has to be somewhere along this ridge. She wouldn’t have gone into the lower rocks—too dangerous." His gaze flicked to a shadowed ledge far below, where sunlight barely touched the jagged stones.

They circled, swooping closer to cliffs, then darting up into the air to get a better view of the treacherous stone paths Kaya might take. Every movement was measured. Every gust of wind, every loose stone below could hide her—or endanger her.

Veer’s chest tightened as he imagined her struggling along the narrow paths, weakened, hungry, and tired.

"VEER"

Suddenly, Veer’s brother interrupted him, his voice tight with alarm. Veer turned to follow, his eyes sweeping the stony path below. What he saw made his chest tighten—what was once a small, narrow terrace, barely wide enough for a single footstep, was now fractured, jagged, and unstable.

He remembered how solid it had been the last time he had seen it.