CHAPTER 217: CHAPTER-217

Veer’s throat tightened.

Either Kaya was going to die, or she was gravely sick. There was no other explanation. Anger? No. Sulking? Impossible. This wasn’t silence out of spite—it was silence out of death creeping closer.

By the time morning came, Veer looked worse than Kaya had ever seen him. His eyes were ringed with deep, ugly shadows—panda-like, darker than hers had ever been—and his expression was a mess of exhaustion and raw panic.

Kaya blinked awake, her lashes flickering, and the first thing she saw was Veer’s face hovering above hers, his eyes wide, hollow, and bloodshot. She flinched instinctively, her hand twitching into a fist—ready to smack him for watching her like a creep.

And for the first time in hours, Veer felt hope spark in his chest. His heart leapt. Yes! Yes, hit me. Yell at me. Curse me out. Be you again, Kaya. Just—be you.

But instead, Kaya froze, relaxed her hand, and murmured softly, "I’m sorry... I didn’t see you there."

Veer’s heart stopped.

It was like the ground had been ripped out from under him. Like someone had driven a blade right into his chest.

Sorry? Did she just say sorry? Kaya? To me?

The word hit him harder than any punch could.

And in that moment, Veer’s last defense broke. His fists trembled at his sides, and his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.

No. No, no, no—this is it. She’s dying. She has to be. That’s why she’s changed. That’s why she’s quiet. She’s leaving me.

For the first time in a long time, Veer wasn’t just restless. He was terrified.

..

.

.

That day , Veer didn’t head for the Black Fox Tribe as planned. Instead, he spun midair in a sharp U-turn, the wind howling past his ears as his wings cut through the sky. His eyes were locked ahead, fierce with determination. The Monkey Tribe—renowned for their medical knowledge—was the only place that came to mind.

The Monkey Tribe was gathered under the broad canopy of a giant fig tree, their voices weaving together like a restless chorus.

"Did you see the little one’s fever? It hasn’t broken yet," one healer murmured, worry lining his brow.

Another, older beastman scratched his chin, "We’ll need the root from the northern cliffs. Without it, the child won’t last long."

A younger one jumped in, his tail swishing with impatience, "But the northern cliffs are crawling with serpents! We can’t just—"

Laughter broke out from a group nearby, trying to lighten the tension. "You always think of danger first. We’re the Monkey Tribe! Agility is our gift, don’t forget it!"

The air was alive with urgency, bickering, laughter, and concern, when suddenly—

WHOOSH!

A gust of wind swept through the clearing as Veer descended from the sky, landing right in their midst. Dust spiraled upward, making some cough and shield their eyes.

"What in the world—?!" a young monkey beastman cried, stumbling back.

Another narrowed his eyes, voice sharp, "Who dares drop from the sky into our tribe without warning?"

Before their surprise could shape into words, Veer’s voice thundered across the clearing.

"Where is the best doctor in this tribe?!"

The demand cracked like lightning, carrying both command and desperation. The beastmen exchanged wary glances, their instincts flaring between offense and confusion. One of them shifted uneasily, his hands twitching as if ready to defend his people. Another cocked his head, sizing Veer up, nostrils flaring to catch his scent.

But it wasn’t hostility Veer radiated—it was urgency, the kind that prickled the air and pressed down on their chests.

The silence hung for a beat before one monkey beastman finally stepped forward, his expression wary but curious. "Why are you looking for the healer with such desperation, stranger?"

Veer’s amber eyes burned as he turned to the monkey beastman who had dared question him. His voice cracked through the clearing like a whip.

"I said—where the damn healer is!"

The force in his tone made the gathered beastmen flinch, their tails twitching with unease. Just as the murmurs started to rise again, a figure rushed forward from the back.

"I’m the healer!"

The crowd parted to reveal a young man, barely in his thirties, his sharp eyes full of focus as he stepped closer. His robes were simple, his hands calloused from grinding herbs and mixing brews.

Veer didn’t hesitate. With Kaya in his arms, he stormed toward the healer, his desperation written in every heavy step. "Check her—right now!" His voice trembled with urgency. "She’s going to die if you don’t!"

Gasps rippled through the monkey beastmen at his frantic tone. All eyes turned to the woman in his arms.

Kaya, however, was grinding her teeth, her face burning with restrained frustration. The moment Veer’s words hit her ears, something in her snapped.

SMACK!

Her palm landed across his face with a resounding crack that echoed in the still air. The crowd froze, mouths falling open.

Veer staggered a step back, clutching his cheek in shock. "Ow—what the hell, woman?!" he barked, glaring at her with wide eyes. "Are you crazy or what?!"

Kaya, still in his arms, narrowed her eyes, her voice like a sharp blade cutting through the tension. "Say that one more time, Veer, and I’ll make sure you’re the one who needs the healer."

The Monkey Tribe exchanged stunned looks, their earlier wariness dissolving into curiosity... and a few smothered laughs.

Veer blinked, his cheek still stinging, before slowly lowering Kaya onto the ground. His eyes softened for just a flicker as he crouched in front of her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his hand brushing lightly over her arm and shoulder as if checking for wounds that weren’t there. His gaze searched her face, lingering on the faint tremor of her clenched fist, the fire burning in her glare.

And then—he grinned. That damned crooked grin.

"Hah... you’re okay. See? We just entered the tribe and look at you—snapping at me already. That’s my Kaya. Just let the doctor take a look, and you’ll be perfectly fine."