Leila stirred slightly, shifting under the covers as her mind began to wake. She couldn't quite remember when she'd fallen asleep the previous night, but fragments lingered—vivid yet blurred—of someone holding her, their presence wrapping around her like a shield. The memory was faint, but it carried an odd sense of security and warmth, something she hadn't felt in a long time.
A soft squeal escaped her lips as the chirping of birds reached her ears. Morning had come. Slowly, she opened her eyes, groaning lightly at the sunlight streaming through the room. She blinked away the lingering traces of sleep, only to feel the sting of tears clinging to the corners of her eyes.
She shifted, folding herself into a tight, protective position on the bed. The events of the previous day flooded back all at once, each moment weighing heavier on her chest.
Her sisters.
The realization struck her anew, raw and unpleasant. She hadn't even been given enough time to grieve them properly, to mourn the lives lost. The ache in her heart twisted painfully, and the dam broke. Bitter, anguished tears poured from her as she clutched the bedsheets, her sobs muffled against the fabric.
Her cries filled the room, raw and without restrain, and for once, she didn't care who heard her. All she wanted was to cry, to release the unbearable weight pressing against her chest. The world felt cruel, heartless, and she hated it—all of it. The fact that justice for her sisters seemed like a fleeting, impossible dream tore at her soul.
"Leila!"
Her brother's voice cut through the haze of her despair, and moments later, Arman burst into the room. His heart clenched at the sight before him: his sister curled into herself on the bed, trembling with sobs.
He rushed to her side, his concern written all over his face as he climbed onto the bed and reached for her. "Leila," he called softly, kneeling beside her. "Are you okay?"
She didn't respond with words; instead, she reached out, gripping him tightly as though he were the only anchor in her turbulent world. Her sobs grew louder, her pain spilling freely as she clung to him.
Arman's heart broke into pieces. He didn't fully understand the depths of her anguish, but he could feel it, and it shattered him. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close, holding her as tightly as she held him.
"It's okay," he whispered, though he knew those words offered little comfort. He stroked her hair gently, his voice soft and soothing.
"Are you okay now?" Arman asked softly as Leila's sobs began to subside. She shook her head, her grip on him still tight, as though she feared he might disappear if she let go.
"Did that madman do anything to hurt you?" His voice carried a protective edge, though there was genuine concern beneath it.
"No…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. She clung to her brother like a lifeline, needing the solace his presence provided.
"Then why are you crying?" he asked gently, his hand moving to smooth her hair in a soothing rhythm.
Leila hesitated, swallowing the lump in her throat before answering. "I just realized…" Her voice cracked as fresh tears threatened to spill. "I'll never get to see my sisters in the red-light district again."
Arman stiffened at her words, his heart sinking. He had pushed thoughts of the tragedy aside, distracted by the chaos Shahkhur had brought into their lives. Now, hearing Leila's anguish brought the grief crashing back, sharper than ever.
"And it's all my fault," she cried, her voice trembling. "If only I hadn't gone there… none of this would have happened."
Arman's eyes narrowed slightly at her words, his protective instincts flaring. "I was meaning to ask," he said cautiously, leaning back to look at her. "Are you involved in the death of the governor's son?"
Leila's shoulders slumped, and she nodded slowly. "Shahkhur killed him," she admitted, her voice heavy with the weight of the truth.
"Shahkhur?" Arman's tone was incredulous. "You mean that deranged man?"
She nodded again, wiping at her damp cheeks with trembling fingers. "But he only did it to defend me," she added quickly. "Even after Madam Baran told me to leave, Lord Shapour, the governor's son came after me. They were going to dishonor me, Arman. I was helpless… and Shahkhur came to save me."
Arman's jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "That piece of waste material…" he muttered under his breath, referring to the governor's son. The thought of anyone trying to harm his sister ignited a fury he struggled to contain.
"I don't like that madman," he admitted grudgingly after a moment. "But if he's the one who saved you… then yes, he can have my thanks."
Leila's gaze dropped to her knotted fingers, guilt and sorrow mingling in her expression. Silent tears began to fall again, carving fresh trails down her cheeks.
"It's not your fault," Arman said gently, his voice steady as he held her gaze. "And I'm sure your sisters know that too. They don't bear you any grudge, if there is anyone that needs to rot in the eternal flames of damnation, it's the governor and his good for nothing son. Dishonor on him and the rest of his family."
Leila shook her head, her lips trembling as fresh tears threatened to spill. They didn't deserve that. No matter what.
"I'm sorry," Arman confessed, his voice heavy with guilt. "I feel so useless, Leila. There's nothing I can do to make this better. I can't even promise to protect you properly—not after last night. I almost got you into trouble." His fists clenched at his sides as his expression darkened. "But if there's any opportunity—any chance—I'll make sure to ruin the governor and his entire family for what they've done."
Leila blinked at his fierce declaration, but before she could respond, another thought surfaced, one she'd pushed aside amidst the chaos.
"What about Mother?" she asked suddenly, her brows knitting in concern.
"She's awake," Arman assured her. "I gave her the medication, and—" He paused, his voice laced with surprise. "His pheromones… they work like magic. I haven't seen her this energetic in a long time."
Leila's breath hitched as she realized what he meant. "Speaking of Shahkhur…" she began, glancing around the room. Her eyes darted to every corner, searching. "Where is he?"
Arman shrugged casually. "He left early this morning," he said. "I didn't see him. Maybe he wanted to avoid me."
Leila frowned, her lips pressing into a thin line. "He's shifting back into his animal form," she muttered, almost to herself.
"What?" Arman asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
She sighed, her fingers gripping the bedframe. "Shahkhur is dangerous when he's a beast, so he probably wanted to do it away from us, he must have returned to the forest, the tiger's natural habitat. That's probably why he always shifts before getting too close to me."
Arman stared at her, skeptical. "Are you seriously insisting that man is a tiger?"
Leila froze for a moment, then nodded resolutely. "Have I ever lied to you before?"
Arman hesitated, his mind racing, but finally shook his head. "No… you haven't. But this is hard to believe, Leila."
"I saw it," she insisted, her voice firm. "With my own two eyes. A tiger became that man."
He stared at her, his disbelief softening under the weight of her conviction. But before he could say anything more, Leila straightened up and began heading toward the door.
"Let's go see Mother," she said briskly. "I agreed to travel with him."
"With who?" Arman asked, his tone sharp with disbelief.
"Shahkhur and I are searching for the priestess who cursed him to become a beast," Leila explained, her tone steady despite the weight of her words.
Arman frowned deeply, his protective instincts immediately flaring. "I want to come with you," he said firmly. "A young woman traveling alone with a man, especially one like that, is dangerous."
Leila shook her head, her expression softening as she reached for his arm. "Someone needs to stay with Mother," she reminded him gently.
His shoulders slumped as he reluctantly nodded. "I'll tell Mom," she continued, "and I'll leave you some money to buy more medicine for her. She'll need it."
"Will you be okay?" he asked, worry etched across his face.
Leila gave him a reassuring smile, though her heart felt heavy. "Even if things get dangerous, I'll find a way through. I tamed the all-powerful Shahkhur—what's the worst that could happen?"
Arman was about to retort when a loud commotion erupted outside, the sudden noise breaking through their conversation. Rapid footsteps echoed closer, making both siblings freeze in place.
"What's that?" Leila whispered, her voice low and wary.
"Let me check," Arman said, already moving toward the entrance.
Leila followed close behind, her nerves on edge. For a brief moment, she thought it might be Shahkhur returning, perhaps in his beastly form. If that were the case, she'd need to protect Arman—but as they stepped outside, her heart sank.
A group of at least thirty men surrounded their home, all clad in the distinct uniforms of palace guards. Their imposing stance and the gleaming weapons in their hands left little room for doubt—they were here on official orders.
Leila exchanged a worried glance with Arman, her stomach twisting in fear.