Meher moved through Delhi’s underworld like a ghost wrapped in fire.
No guards. No Kabir. Just her name whispered like a warning.
She wasn’t hiding.
She was hunting.
Rehan had made it clear: he wanted to destroy Kabir. But Meher knew better now.
He didn’t want the empire.
He wanted to break the heart of it.
Her.
A lead brought her to a derelict temple on the edge of the city—one Rehan’s men had been circling like vultures.
She stepped inside, gun drawn.
“You came alone,” a voice echoed behind the pillars.
“Funny,” Meher said coldly. “So did the devil.”
Rehan emerged from the shadows, smile slow and sharp. “You’re quicker than your king.”
“I left him.”
He chuckled. “Then you’re finally useful.”
Meher didn’t flinch. “You never wanted Kabir’s head, did you? You wanted mine.”
Rehan tilted his head. “I wanted his soul. But it lives in you. So yes—killing you is the only thing that might break him.”
She raised her gun. “Try.”
He didn’t move. “Even now, you protect him.”
“No,” she said. “I protect the part of me he didn’t destroy.”
Her hand was steady.
But so was his smirk.
Because Rehan had one more move left—
And it was already in motion.
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