Tyaag

५

The burly man kept splashing water with his massive feet every time he put a foot forward.

There was not a single graceful bone in that sturdy frame of his that he kept waddling around, looking like an elephant still learning how to walk.

The man kept glancing around and it gave her the impression that he didn't want to be seen.

It piqued her curiosity even more especially when everything from his awkward stance to his stony build reminded her of someone she couldn't quite recall.

As if sensing her gaze on him, the man stopped abruptly and turned around, giving her a glimpse of his jagged face and ever vigilant eyes that probed each and every corner of the street to see if there was anything that needed his attention.

After finding nothing out of the ordinary, he turned on his heel and walked away, oblivious to the pair of curious eyes that were watching him.

Bala.

The sight of the royal soldier and Yuvraaj's most trusted confidant, wandering on the streets at an hour when only restless, evil spirits were believed to be lurking in the shadows made the back on her neck stand up straight.

For a moment, she was filled with the same terror that threatened to choke her when she saw the wild beast digging his talons in her chest, feasting upon her heart as if it were the forbidden fruit of life that he wasn't even allowed to touch, much less taste it with his lecherous tongue.

That was all that came to her mind, before forcing her to remember the creature of the night at the lake, the flash of silver that had appeared and disappeared as if it were a phantom.

It had made her paranoid.

The fact that she didn't know if it were a feral being, a man or something more sinister than anything she could've imagined made her feel as if she was going insane.

Perhaps, that was the reason why she had dreamt about the wolves, the gods and the monster.

The unknowing of the unknown plagued her mind.

She was being haunted or maybe the prince was being hunted.

And, she hadn't warned him.

That night when he kept asking her why she had abruptly made him leave, she didn't tell him what she had seen.

She didn't tell him about the strange feeling that kept troubling her ever since he had returned.

She didn't tell him how she could feel a pair of eyes watching her, watching them.

Instead of answering his questions, she had told him that she simply wanted to retire for the night, which is why she had pulled him out of the forest with no regard to his feelings, leaving the silence hanging between them on its hinges, like a creaking door that was never meant to be opened.

She could see, in the way his eyes searched for an answer that her lips wouldn't give, that he wasn't convinced.

But it was his disappointment that obscured his understanding, and so he mistook her urgency to escape as her indifference.

His hurt had defeaned his ears and so he couldn't hear the battle of her heart, just as he couldn't sense the way her breathing had turned shallow, couldn't see where her eyes kept glancing.

He had left without saying goodbye and at that moment, she was relieved.

But now as she stood, bare to the cold and harsh night that insisted on caressing her in ways she didn't want to be, the ease with which she breathed was nowhere to be found.