The temple bells echoed in the distance, their sound merging with the soft chant of “Har Har Mahadev.” The air was thick with incense, the fragrance of sandalwood and marigold drifting toward me. I adjusted the simple veil covering my face, blending among the common women who had come to worship.

But my eyes were not on the shivling.

They were on him.

A man stood waist deep in the Ganga, water glistening on his bare chest as he rose from the snaan. Drops cascaded down his sculpted frame, catching the morning sun until he looked less like a mortal and more like an offering of Mahadev himself. Around him, dasis crowded with silver thalis overflowing with silks, ornaments, coins. Each stretched a hand forward, desperate for his glance, desperate to serve him.

But he didn’t see them.

Or perhaps he didn’t care.

My feet froze where I stood. My heart pounded against my ribs as if trying to escape. My eyes unwilling, unashamed , remained fixed on him.

“Rajkumari” Ruhani’s whisper trembled beside me. She followed my gaze, and in the next instant her face drained of color.

“Chaliye yaha se! Abhi.” She tugged at my arm, terrified.

I blinked, confused, my voice barely a murmur. “Kaun hai yeh?”

She swallowed, her grip tightening on my wrist. “Woh… woh hamare shatru hai.”

Her words struck like lightning. Enemy. My lips parted, my breath caught, yet my gaze betrayed me , returning to him. And to my horror, to my secret delight, his gaze found mine.

For a moment the temple disappeared.

The chants, the bells, the crowd, all dissolved.

It was only his eyes and mine, locked across the sacred river.

A pull I could not name.

A sin I should not feel.

𖹭𖹭

“Rajkumari, he is here!” Ruhani’s voice quivered, but this time with excitement, not fear.

Days later, as the darbari trumpets thundered, my hands trembled around the garland of marigolds and roses. Baba sa had arranged my swayamvar. Princes and kings from across the lands had come to seek my hand. I had prayed to Shiv Ji with every breath, every tear that he would come.

And Mahadev had listened.

He was here.

My heart swelled with joy so pure that tears blurred my vision. I clasped Ruhani to me, sobbing into her shoulder, laughing between the sobs. But the happiness lasted only a moment.

The hall was filled with chaos , im standing infront of him in darbar. My garland trembled in my hands as I lifted my chin, forcing composure. My lips should have curved in a smile , my eyes should have glowed with devotion.

Instead, tears welled once more.

Because fate had been cruel.

The man I had prayed for stood before me, as glorious as he had appeared on that riverbank.

My voice cracked as I raised my eyes to him, the one man I both adored and love .

“H-hu- hum apko inkaar karte hain, Rana sa.” I said these words finally, looking at him in his eyes .

The garland slipped from my hands, petals scattering like fallen hopes.

The silence that followed was heavier than any sword. The darbar murmured, whispers like sharp daggers. She refused him? The Rudransh of Veerakhand?

And then his eyes , those eyes that had once held me captive , hardened into steel. His jaw clenched, his broad shoulders squared, and the cold fury that rolled from him silenced even the whispers.

For the first time, I saw the man the world feared.

And for the first time, I realized the cost of my words.

No one had ever dared to reject him.

No one.

Until me.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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   Excited for the novel ?

Tbh i actually cried while writing the rejection lines. Destiny not work according to our pov . 

Agar koi tumhara hai toh khuda tumko usse pass kheech he lega , agar nhi hai toh usse jaane dena behtar hota hai .

Moving on from any relationship is hard but jinko tumhari parwah nhi unke peeche rona faltu hai .

:)

[ author ke andar ka teacher jag gya ]

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