Episode----- 23
The storm roared above, rain falling harder now, beating against broken glass and cracked stone like a thousand frantic fists.
Ayan's arms wrapped around Lina, breath ragged against her hair. His chest heaved, each breath sharp with pain, warm blood seeping through torn cloth where fresh wounds bled freely.
For a moment, neither spoke. Their hearts, hammering in wild sync, said enough.
Then Ayan's grip loosened, enough to pull back and search her face. His gaze swept over her, as if counting every cut, every bruise, every trembling breath.
"You're hurt," he rasped, voice raw, the iron edge melted into something softer.
"So are you," Lina whispered back, tears and rain blurring her sight.
His hand, shaking, brushed a streak of blood from her cheek. "That doesn't matter," he murmured. "Only you do."
---
A new crash echoed through the villa — somewhere deeper, a door or a piece of falling stone.
Ayan's head snapped up, body tensing. "It isn't over," he whispered, voice turning cold again, though fear still burned behind his eyes.
"Then we keep fighting," Lina said, voice cracking but sure.
A flash of surprise softened the harsh line of his jaw. "Lina—"
"I won't leave you," she cut in, firmer now. "Don't ask me again."
---
For a heartbeat, the hall seemed to hold its breath.
Then, slowly, he nodded — once. Not agreement born of victory, but of acceptance. "Then stay close," he murmured.
---
They moved together over flooded marble, boots slipping on rain‑slick stone.
Ayan reclaimed his sword, wincing as he bent. Blood dripped from his arm, but his hand stayed steady.
Lina's fingers curled once more around the iron rod, slick with rust and her own blood. The weight no longer felt foreign; it felt like stubborn will given shape.
---
They passed the tall man's body. Lina forced herself to look — to see what fighting meant.
She felt no triumph. Only the sobering truth: if she hadn't swung that rod, Ayan might have fallen instead.
And that thought hurt far worse than any cut.
---
The hall narrowed into a corridor of fallen beams and cracked plaster. Lightning flashed through broken windows, briefly illuminating shadows ahead.
"Careful," Ayan whispered. "They'll try to corner us here."
"And we can't let them," she replied, surprising herself with the steadiness of her voice.
His gaze cut to her, lingering a second longer than before. Pride flickered behind the exhaustion in his eyes.
---
They moved on, rain dripping from ceilings, pooling around their feet.
Then, from the end of the corridor, footsteps echoed.
A shape stepped into view — another man, taller than the last, blade already raised, gaze cold and hungry.
Ayan stepped forward, sword lifting. His breath came harsh, labored. Blood stained his sleeve, darker now, but he held the weapon firm.
"Stay behind me," he growled — softer than an order, rougher than a plea.
Lina obeyed, but her grip on the rod tightened, pulse racing so loudly she could barely hear the storm.
---
The man charged.
Steel met steel in a crash that shuddered through the ruined hall. Sparks fled into darkness; the man's blade swept low, nearly catching Ayan's leg.
Ayan twisted, but pain stole speed from his steps. His sword rose a breath too late — the attacker's blade glanced across his side, slicing cloth and flesh.
"Ayan!" Lina cried, voice cracking.
He grunted in pain, but didn't fall. His eyes, fierce and desperate, stayed locked on the enemy.
---
The attacker raised his sword again, preparing a killing blow.
Lina didn't think — she moved.
The rod swung forward, clumsy but fast enough to jar the man's arm. His strike veered wide, missing Ayan by inches.
The man turned on her, fury twisting his face.
---
Fear crushed Lina's chest, but she held her ground.
The man advanced — and in that heartbeat, Ayan struck.
His blade swept low, catching the man across the thigh.
The man staggered, and Ayan didn't hesitate — the sword rose again, found its mark across the chest.
The attacker collapsed, steel clanging against flooded stone.
---
Ayan gasped, chest heaving. Rain dripped from his jaw, mixing with sweat and blood. His free hand lifted, fingers brushing Lina's sleeve. "You saved me," he rasped, disbelief and something deeper burning in his gaze.
"So did you," she whispered, voice shaking.
---
For a breath, everything around them seemed to fade — the storm, the ruins, the danger still lurking.
Ayan's hand cupped her cheek, thumb trembling against her skin. "You shouldn't have stayed," he murmured, words raw, almost broken.
"I had to," she breathed, eyes stinging. "Because you would've done the same."
His gaze held hers — iron walls cracking, something fragile spilling through.
"And that terrifies me," he confessed, voice barely a whisper.
---
Thunder boomed, shaking dust from the ceiling.
They didn't move. Didn't speak.
In that ruined corridor, bruised and bleeding, they stood side by side — bound by fear, defiance, and something fiercer still.
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