The sight of her—blood streaking down her lip, her body faltering against Ishviq’s arms—burned into me like fire against raw flesh. My Saanvi. They dared to strike her. They dared to put their hands on her. I had ordered Ishviq to take her away, to see that she was tended to with every ounce of care the heavens could spare. Because if I lingered near her now, I would crumble. And I could not crumble. Not here. Not while these jackals still breathed.

Something inside me broke then, and what rose in its place was not man—it was beast.