Aayat stumbled out of the basement, her breath ragged, her body trembling like a trapped bird. What she had just witnessed would never leave her mind.
Her husband, Anirudh Singh Rathore—silent, composed, almost regal—had stood over the battered man with blood on his fists. His voice was low, calm, yet sharp enough to slice through bone:
"Blind him. Then throw him into the forest. Let the beasts decide if he deserves breath."
The cruelty of those words sank into her chest like knives. She ran until her legs gave way and collapsed in her chamber, her hands clutching her mouth to smother the scream rising in her throat. Tears spilled uncontrollably, and her whole body shook as if her soul itself were trying to escape.
"This isn't love," she whispered brokenly to herself. "This is madness… I can't breathe here, I can't live here."
Her sobs softened into whispers, desperate and resolute.
"I will run away. I have to. I will not be caged like this… I will not."
---
The next day, she wore her mask well. Kohl rimmed her swollen eyes, her lips curved into faint smiles, and she moved gracefully through the palace halls. But every interaction was strained.
At breakfast, when Anirudh's hand brushed hers under the table, she immediately pulled away, hiding it with a forced laugh.
When he sought her gaze, she lowered her eyes.
When he tried to speak, her replies were short, polite, distant.
But every distance cut into him like fire.
By evening, Anirudh's patience was a thread fraying to its final strand.
---
That night, as Aayat stepped into the chamber, she froze.
"You've been ignoring me," Anirudh's voice broke the silence, calm yet burning beneath.
"I haven't," she said quickly, clutching her dupatta tighter.
He tilted his head, his sharp eyes gleaming in the golden lantern light. Shirtless, freshly bathed, his presence was overwhelming—like a predator who already owned his prey. "Don't lie. Do you think I don't feel it? When your eyes refuse mine… when your voice trembles but carries no warmth?"
"I wasn't—"
Before she could finish, he pulled her into his arms, his grip unyielding. His lips trailed along her neck, slow, deliberate, possessive. She gasped, her body stiffening as hickeys bloomed against her skin.
"If you say you weren't ignoring me," he whispered darkly, "I'll believe you. But remember this—next time, don't even let me feel it. Because if I do… your punishment will be something you'll never forget."
That night, he caged her in his arms as they lay down, his body pressed against hers, his grip an unbreakable shackle.
But Aayat's mind was already elsewhere.
When his breaths deepened in sleep, she slipped free inch by inch, her heart hammering against her ribs. She gathered a few belongings with trembling hands, biting back sobs as she clutched them close to her chest.
Her feet carried her down the silent corridors. Shadows loomed like enemies, but desperation pushed her forward. At last, she reached the old backdoor.
Her hand touched the latch, her lips curving into the faintest smile.
"Finally… finally I'll be free."
Click.
"Freedom, Aayat?"
The voice, low and calm, froze her blood.
She turned slowly.
Anirudh stood in the corridor. Shirtless, barefoot, his body gleaming faintly in the silver wash of moonlight. His expression was calm—terrifyingly calm—but his eyes burned with fire that promised ruin.
"I-I wasn't—"
He stepped closer, his voice cutting her words like a blade.
"You were leaving me. My queen. My wife. Mine. Do you know what it means to run from your king? It means you've broken the vow that binds us. And broken vows, Aayat…" His lips curved into a cruel smirk. "…must be punished."
Her tears spilled faster, her voice cracking. "Please, Anirudh… let me go. I can't—"
"You can't?" His calmness was worse than rage. "You can't live without me, you can't breathe without me. That's the truth you're denying. And you thought running away would save you?" His chest rose with a dark laugh. "No, Aayat. There is no world beyond me. No life. If there is breath in your lungs—it is mine. If there is blood in your veins—it beats for me."
In one swift motion, he scooped her into his arms. She screamed, thrashing, hitting his chest, tears wetting her face. "Put me down! Put me down!"
His voice brushed her ear, low and bone-chilling.
"Struggle again, and I'll punish you right here in the dark. Cry as much as you want… no one will hear you."
Her body went still. Her hands fell weakly against him.
Without another word, he carried her back into the palace. The heavy doors of their chamber shut behind them with a final, echoing thud.