The humid, post-climax silence in the clearing was thick, broken only by the distant chatter of monkeys and the heavy breathing of the four humans. Akshara felt boneless against the jeep’s hood, the cooling streaks on her face a stark, sticky testament to the madness. Neil was still inside her, his softening length a warm, possessive anchor. His forehead rested on her shoulder, his breath hot on her neck.

Aarohi’s slow clapping had stopped, but her gaze was a laser, burning with an intensity that had nothing to do with amusement anymore. She watched Neil’s broad back, the way his muscles still trembled with aftershock, then her eyes flicked to Abhimanyu, who stood with a smug, sated expression as he fastened his pants.