Kainat’s breath hitched, her chest tightening as she absorbed every word.
All this time, she had built a fortress of anger and mistrust around herself, believing Agastya to be a man driven only by power and control. But now… now she saw the cracks in his armor, the boy who had once been helpless, the man forged in loss.

Her fingers, which had been limp in his hold, slowly curled around his hand. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but for Agastya, it was enough to feel that maybe—just maybe—she was letting him in.