Warm light surged through Adir’s body—golden, soft, and otherworldly. His breathing slowed. The pain in his chest faded. His broken ribs stitched together as if time bent itself backward. His eyes fluttered open, golden slits peeking through as his vision cleared.

  He saw her.

  Kneeling beside him, one hand pressed to his wound, her fingers glowing faintly. Her eyes shone with quiet strength, framed by strands of luminous yellow hair. Her black dress flowed like smoke around her, barely disturbed by the night breeze.

  “Who... are you?” Adir rasped, still dazed.

  “I’ll explain all this later,” she said softly, voice calm yet urgent.

  Adir blinked again, recognition blooming in his eyes. “I’ve seen you before... Where...?”

  The girl gave a small smile. “Yes. The library.”

  Adir’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re the library girl… the one who vanished behind the poetry shelves…”

  “I am.”

  He pushed himself upright slightly, wincing. “Why are you helping me? And how did you even do this—”

  “Shh,” she whispered, placing a gentle finger to his lips. “He’s nearby. He can smell your blood.”

  They both went still.

  A low rumble echoed through the broken buildings.

  From below, Karakash’s guttural voice rang out, thick with hunger and mockery.

  “Come out, kiddo,” he snarled. “I’ll kill you easy if you don’t be naughty.”

  The girl helped Adir up swiftly, her movements sharp and precise. They darted low, crawling behind a rusted water tank perched near the edge of the roof. The air was cold, laced with ash and tension.

  “We need to work together to kill him,” she whispered.

  As she spoke, her healing aura continued to work—divine light coiling around Adir like silk threads, weaving over every wound. The deep gashes vanished. Scales reformed. Even the blood on his skin shimmered and evaporated.

  Adir took a deep breath, strength returning.

  “I’ll handle him,” he said, eyes burning.

  “You can’t,” she said firmly, holding his shoulder.

  He met her gaze—and saw not fear, but fierce determination.

  Footsteps echoed—heavy, wet, dragging.

  Krakash had made it to the rooftop, sniffing the air like a starving beast.

  “I can smell your soul, little serpent…”

  The girl pulled Adir back behind a ventilation shaft as Krakash prowled across the rooftop, sniffing, muttering.

  “We need to lure him,” she whispered. “There’s a rooftop garden just across that gap—it has a containment sigil. We can trap him if we time it right.”

  Adir looked to the edge. The buildings were close but not connected—just wide enough for a leap.

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  She glanced at him. “Can you jump?”

  He smirked. “Try and stop me.”

  She led the way, crouching low. Krakash was distracted, clawing at pipes and growling to himself.

  In a flash, the girl sprinted toward the rooftop edge and leapt across the chasm like a streak of shadow.

  Adir followed, launching himself in a clean arc, tail whipping behind him.

  They landed silently in the overgrown rooftop garden. Moonlight glinted off faint glowing runes carved into the stone.

  As Krakash turned and spotted them, a cruel smile twisting across his face, Adir and the girl vanished into the overgrowth—silent predators preparing for the final strike.

  Krakash leapt across the rooftop gap with a roar that split the night, landing heavily on the garden rooftop, his clawed feet cracking the stone beneath. The moon hung overhead, cold and distant, casting its light across the shattered city.

  Adir stood beside the girl, both poised in the center of the overgrown rooftop. Vines curled along ancient stone, hiding glowing sigils that pulsed faintly with celestial energy.

  Krakash bared his fangs. “You think you can hide behind tricks?”

  The girl stepped forward.

  “No tricks,” she said, her voice changing—no longer just human, but powerful, ringing like a temple bell in the dead of night.

  She closed her eyes, and her form shimmered.

  Stripes of glowing silver raced across her skin. Her limbs extended. Her nails became claws. Her golden hair flared with celestial energy as a spectral aura of a massive white tigress coiled around her like a spirit.

  Adir’s eyes widened.

  “You’re… Tigress.”

  She opened her glowing eyes and nodded. “A guardian sent by the gods. To protect the serpent-born.”

  Krakash snarled and lunged.

  The rooftop exploded into chaos.

  Tigress met him head-on, her claws locking with his, sparks flying with every strike. Krakash lashed his tail like a whip, sending shards of stone flying, but Adir darted in, wrapping around the beast’s legs and tripping him.

  Krakash rolled, slamming Tigress into a wall. She rebounded with a snarl, leaving claw marks across his snout.

  Adir leapt high, silver dagger drawn, and stabbed down—but Krakash caught him midair and flung him like a ragdoll. Adir crashed through a small greenhouse, vines tangling around him.

  “You’re persistent,” Krakash hissed. “But not smart enough.”

  Bloodied but not broken, Adir got up slowly. Tigress landed beside him, panting, her energy pulsing.

  “We can’t beat him with brute strength,” she said.

  Adir nodded, grimacing. “Then let’s beat him with something else…”

  A memory sparked in his mind—an old myth from his tribe. Crocodile spirits… always weakest in the cold.

  He turned to Tigress. “Cold. He’s sensitive to cold.”

  Tigress narrowed her eyes, scanning the rooftop.

  “There,” she said, pointing to an ancient water tower rigged with cooling systems, still humming faintly from an old emergency backup line.

  Adir slithered swiftly to it, coiling around the pipes. “I’ll rupture the coolant. Freeze the air.”

  Tigress moved to stall Karakash.

  “You’ll regret this, girl!” he roared.

  She held her ground, eyes blazing. “I don’t regret protecting the innocent.”

  They clashed again, claws sparking and bodies slamming into stone and metal. Meanwhile, Adir drove his fangs into the pressure line—bursting it wide open.

  A chilling fog hissed out, blanketing the rooftop in cold mist.

  Krakash stumbled.

  His breath became ragged. His green crocodilian skin began to crack with frost. His movements slowed.

  “What… what is this?” he roared.

  Tigress took the opening.

  With a deafening snarl, she slashed across his chest, divine energy burning into his frozen hide. Adir darted in with his dagger, driving it straight through Karakash’s throat.

  The beast howled, thrashing—but it was too late.

  Frozen blood poured out as the sigils on the ground flared to life, binding him in golden chains of divine flame.

  Krakash screamed one final time before his form twisted, shattered, and dissolved into black ash.

  But as his head cracked apart, his voice slithered out in a raspy whisper, carried on the wind like a curse.

  “You think this ends with me? He is watching… and he is hungry… Be ready… for more disaster.”

  Silence.

  Only the wind remained.

  Adir collapsed to his knees, breathing hard. Tigress stood beside him, watching the ashes scatter into the moonlight.

  “It’s over,” he whispered.

  She looked at him with a soft smile. “For now.”

  Adir glanced at her. “You saved me.”

  Tigress looked up at the stars. “No. We saved each other.”