Hello, Sakhis! ❤️
Left with no other option after the highly questionable engagement on the last chapter...
So, this time I'm setting a target for the next chapter:
35 votes & 70 comments.
And yes, we're sticking to 2 chapters a week from now on. Because apparently, you guys clearly don't value the extra efforts I make for more frequent updates.
Now go read, vote, and TALK TO ME. ❤️
• The Cold •
The cool night wind drifted through the open archways of the garden, rustling the leaves.
Dilshana sat near the edge of the courtyard. She tilted her head back, staring up into the endless sky dotted with thousands of shimmering stars.
Her mind was consumed by an aching longing for a home that felt lightyears away.
Behind her, the doors of the chamber clicked. Agnijeet had returned. A knot twisted in her stomach the moment she felt his presence. The last three days without him had been the only peaceful moments she'd had in this hellhole. No suffocating shadows, no silent terror, no constant reminder of her captivity.
Now, that brief mercy was over.
After an icy wash to cleanse the sweat, he stepped out into the shadowed garden, pulling the door shut behind him.
Dilshana felt his presence before she even heard him. The air seemed to instantly grow heavy. He dropped down onto the floor of the veranda outside the chamber entrance.
From the corner of her eye, she saw him resting his bare back against the cold pillar.
After a while, Agnijeet simply leaned back, lay flat on his back on the floor, and placed his forearm over his eyes.
Exhausted from days of relentless riding, his breathing slowed down as he drifted into sleep there under the night sky.
As the hour grew late, the night air turned more cold and biting. A cold gust swept through the garden, making Dilshana shiver violently. She pulled her odhani tighter around her shoulders, deciding it was time to retreat to the warmth of the bed.
She turned around and froze.
Agnijeet lay fast asleep on the cold floor. No mattress, no pillow, no sheets to cover his bare chest. The silver moonlight illuminated the carved muscles of his torso and the jagged scars crisscrossing his brown skin.
Dilshana stood beside him, completely bewildered. The night wind made her skin prickle with cold, yet he lay on the freezing stone as if it were a bed of feathers.
Without his terrifying eyes locked onto hers, he looked far less like a demon and more like a man resting after a long war.
Gathering a rare drop of courage, she spoke softly.
"Yahan bahut thand hai."
(It is very cold out here.)
Agnijeet didn't even shift. His arm remained resting over his eyes.
"Patni dharm nibha rahi ho?"
(Are you fulfilling your wifely duty?)
An immediate regret hit Dilshana. Her eyes flashed with irritation. She muttered under her breath, swiftly turning on her heel and marching toward the chamber entrance.
"Bhool gaye the... jahannum ke sipahiyon ko thand kahan lagti hai."
(I'd forgotten... the soldiers of hell never feel the cold.)
She looked back over her shoulder once, seeing him still unmoving, before reaching out to push the door open.
The door didn't budge.
She frowned, gripping the brass ring and pushing again. Nothing. She shoved the door with all her strength, but the latch inside had slipped into its groove, jamming the door tight against the stone frame.
She walked quickly down the length of the veranda, checking the surrounding high windows, but every single lattice was barred from the inside. There was no way in.
She slowly walked back toward the sleeping warrior, her steps heavy with deep hesitation. She stood near his feet, her trembling hands clutched tightly in her wrap. "Woh... darwaza band ho gaya hai. Khul nahi raha."
(The... door has jammed shut. It won't open.)
Agnijeet slowly lifted his arm off his face, his eyes opening to meet her anxious gaze in the moonlight. He looked toward the jammed entrance.
"Haan... woh kabhi kabhi atak jata hai. So jao."
(Yes... it jams sometimes. Go to sleep.)
Dilshana stared at him, her lips parting in utter disbelief.
"Hunh?"
Agnijeet met her eyes calmly.
"Subah khul jayega."
(It will open in the morning.)
Dilshana looked down at the freezing floor, then back at him. Her patience snapped. She gathered every ounce of courage, stepping closer.
"Aap koshish toh kijiye!"
(At least try!)
Agnijeet rested his hands behind his head, his voice dripping with dryness.
"Humare hatho mein dard hai."
(My hands are hurting.)
A venomous laugh nearly escaped Dilshana's throat. Her irritation boomed over the quiet garden, her tone cutting through the cold air like a newly sharpened blade.
"Kisi mazloom ladki ko ghaseet kar late waqt, ya hazaron ka lahu bahate waqt toh aapke haath nahi dukhte. Par ek darwaza kholne me sipahsalar ke haath tut jayenge!"
(Your hands never seem to hurt when you drag a helpless girl away, or when you shed the blood of thousands. But to push open a single door, the Commander's hands will break!)
Agnijeet stared up at her through the shadows.
"Sahi kaha."
(You said it right.)
Dilshana stood over him for a furious moment, her chest heaving as her sharp words died against his absolute brick-wall nonchalance.
Realizing she wasn't going to get an ounce of effort out of him, she turned around with a huff. "Magroor Darinda."
(Arrogant Beast.)
Walking to the farthest corner, far away from his looming presence, she pulled her cotton odhni tight around her body, curled up on the cold sandstone, and lay down under the starlight to face the long night.
The icy mountain wind bit through the thick cotton like jagged needles.
The cold floor beneath her felt like a slab of ice, leaching every bit of warmth from her skin. She curled her knees tightly toward her chest, wrapping her arms around herself, but it offered no shield against the biting chill of the open courtyard.
Her neck throbbed with a dull stiffness. Having no pillow, she was forced to bend her arm at an awkward angle, resting her head against her own wrist.
Every minute dragged like an hour. Her teeth began to chatter violently. Her toes went numb, her fingers turned stiff, and her whole body shook with violent tremors.
Desperate for relief, her eyes darted around the garden. She searched for anything, a stray cloth, a tapestry, a fallen curtain, but the courtyard offered nothing except carved pillars, dark looming arches, and silent marble.
The endless sky above felt suffocating, and the shadowed corners suddenly took on monstrous shapes in her feverish mind. Her gaze involuntarily drifted toward Agnijeet.
She slowly forced her trembling legs to stand. The soft chime of her anklets cut through the air, a shivering sound.
Step by trembling step, her numb feet carried her across the floor. She dropped down beside Agnijeet, keeping a careful distance, and curled up on the floor once more.
But, the freezing floor offered no mercy. Her bones ached with a sickening exhaustion.
A bitter wave of hatred crashed through her mind. She had been trapped among her sworn enemies for nearly twenty days. Subjected to a forced marriage, and subjected to this man's terrifying behavior.
A sharp shudder ran through her spine, the sheer agony of the cold breaking down the last wall of her pride.
She shifted a few inches closer to him.
The air near him was noticeably warmer, radiating from his broad torso like a furnace. She looked at him, sleeping on icy floor. "Tauba... insaan hain ya pathhar?"
(Good Lord... Is he a human or stone?)
After a few moments, Dilshana cast aside her pride entirely. She shifted closer again, until the fabric of her skirt brushed against his legs.
Slowly, her trembling hand reached out through the dark. Her fingers were stiff, shivering involuntarily as they grazed his skin.
Her hands wandered over his forearm before guiding it toward her, resting her head on the corded muscle.
The cold was breaking her, shattering her resolve piece by piece, she closed the remaining distance entirely.
She pressed herself flush against his solid side. Her numb knees slid on his, she threw her legs on him as she curled into his massive width.
She reached up, her trembling fingers sprawling on the carved muscles of his bare chest, seeking the heat pulsing beneath his skin.
Agnijeet simply lay there like a dead weight, unmoving and stone-cold.
Dilshana's eyes welled with hot tears. Through the violent shivers shaking her body, she tilted her head upward, her face sliding on his shoulder as her gaze locked onto his face.
She felt the raw heat radiating from him, a stark contrast to her own frozen blood.
Her voice trembled violently, broken and helpless. "Humein bahut thand lag rahi hai..."
(I am feeling very cold...)
Without even opening his eyes, he rasped.
"Toh?"
(So?)
The single word hit her like a splash of cold water. Dilshana's breath caught in her throat. He wasn't going to offer an inch on his own.
Shame, fear, and sheer physical agony warred inside her chest. But the biting wind tore another violent shiver through her bones. Her trembling fingers tightened desperately on his chest, her tear-stained face lifting toward his.
Her voice broke completely, raw and almost begging. "Humein... humein apne paas chhupa lijiye... humein pakad lijiye..."
(Hide me... hide me close to you... hold me...)
The desperate plea hung in the freezing air between them.
Then, Agnijeet turned in an instant.
His heavy arm swept around her waist with crushing force. His iron grip effortlessly yanked her whole body up and flush in his arms, pinning her tightly to him.
He shifted his thick thigh over hers to lock them in place, completely tangling their lower limbs as he cocooned her.
He buried her face into the crook of his warm neck, shielding every inch of her from the biting night wind.
Her small frame was completely swallowed by his expanse. She could feel every sculpted ridge of his chest pressing against her breast, his rough palm spread flat against the small of her back pressing her closer, and his raw masculine scent filling her lungs.
Then, his gravelly voice rumbled deep against her temple, the vibration shaking her very core. "Naam kya hai tumhara?"
(What is your name?)
Dilshana's eyes snapped wide open in his neck, a shockwave running down her spine. They had been married for two weeks, yet her husband was asking for her name only now, in the freezing darkness of a garden floor.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice hushed as she whispered.
"Naaz..."
He pulled back slightly, looking at her face. Her eyes were clamped shut, her chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. He felt the delicate tremor in her small hands where her fingers remained tightly clamped in his back, completely betrayed by the shivering body she could no longer control.
She was so close, every desperate reaction laid bare beneath his gaze, every shiver drawing her closer into him whether her pride liked it or not.
Before she could process the space, his arm swept back around her waist, yanking her close once more. He rasped out flatly against her ear.
"Hilna mat... Hawa andar aa jayegi."
(Don't move... The cold air will seep in.)
A wave of absolute disbelief washed over her. She let out a long exhale, her trembling shoulders slumping as she sank helplessly into the inescapable furnace of his arms, while the thunderous rhythm of his heart vibrated through her cheek.
Slowly, The cold faded completely, replaced by the overwhelming furnace of his skin and the firm lock of his arm and tangled legs. The aching pain in her limbs slowly melted away, and Dilshana's eyelids fluttered shut, drifting into a sleep.
• The Storm from Shahraz •
Mean while, having left the arid deserts of the Sultanate of Shahraz behind, a massive, ominous caravan moved relentlessly through the winding trails.
The procession was distinctly split into two parts. Trailing far behind the main force was a heavily guarded, slow-moving rear convoy. Long lines of heavily burdened camels and sturdy transport mules plodded along the rocky pathways alongside warhorses.
Massive crates were wrapped in thick canvas, bound tightly with iron chains.
Whatever lay hidden beneath those dark coverings was cold deadly.
Hundreds of heavily armed soldiers rode along the flanks, their sharp eyes scanning the high cliffs to ensure that this consignment of absolute destruction reached its destination undetected.
Far ahead of this slow, burdened convoy, a small troop of swift, elite horses kicked up a cloud of dry dirt as they galloped aggressively along the trails.
Leading the riders was a man whose very presence exhaled terror.
At forty five years of age, Tariq Ziyad possessed an imposing frame built from decades of brutal bloodshed and feral dominance.
His wild eyes gleamed beneath heavy brows, completely devoid of human warmth and a jagged scar tore across his cheek, twisting his face into a terrifying, animalistic sneer.
He reined in his horse brutally at the crest of a high, rocky cliff overlooking the peaceful valleys. In the shadows of his thoughts, he saw Dilshana.
He envisioned the exquisite terror on her face as she stumbled backward, her delicate frame trembling, sobbing and weeping in absolute desperation as she begged him for mercy.
A cruel chuckle rumbled deep in his throat, twisting the jagged scar on his cheek into a terrifying sneer.
For Tariq Ziyad, the true victory would be tearing Dilshana from the Commander's grasp and making her bleed for every second she had escaped him.
• The Morning After •
The first pale rays of dawn began to bleed through the mist.
Dilshana slowly drifted out of her sleep, As her mind cleared, the reality hit her like a lightning bolt, making her breath hitch in her throat.
She was completely trapped.
Agnijeet's arm was clamped like a iron vise around her. She was pressed so firmly against him that every breath he took crushed her soft chest against his rock-hard muscles.
Her face was still buried deep into the crook of his neck, breathing in the heat radiating from his skin.
A violent wave of embarrassment rushed up into her cheeks. Her eyes widened in absolute shock as she realized how helplessly she had clung to him all night.
She slid her leg out from under his thigh, attempting to wriggle out of his embrace. She twisted her waist to create an inch of space, but the moment she moved, his hold tightened, pulling her right back.
She squirmed and wriggled, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs, but her movements only made her more acutely aware of every single point of contact between them.
Suddenly, a deep rumble vibrated from his chest. He stirred. His eyelids fluttered open, his sleep-heavy eyes locking onto her flushed face just inches away.
In the dawn light, his disheveled hair fell over his forehead, his jaw shadowed with thick stubble, looking dangerously undone.
The suffocating proximity and the intense weight of his gaze were killing her. The embarrassment was so thick she felt as if she might burst into flames right there.
"Humein... humein chhodiyen," she whispered urgently, her voice trembling with panic as she pushed him.
(Leave me...)
Agnijeet didn't immediately let go. He simply stared down at her trembling red lips, and the sheer chaos in her green eyes.
With agonizing slowness, he let out a lazy exhale, stretching like a dominant predator taking its time to wake up. He took a long, unhurried moment, lazily shifting his weight while keeping her completely pinned.
Dilshana's panic rapidly turned into hot, stinging irritation.
"Chhodiye humein!" she snapped, her voice rising as she squirmed again. "Darwaza khulwaiye!"
(Leave me! Get the door opened!)
Finally, he lifted his arm off her waist and swung his long leg back.
Dilshana scrambled back instantly, pulling her odhni tight over her chest, her face burning like fire.
Agnijeet slowly shifted, taking his sweet time to sit up on the floor. He sat there for a few agonizing seconds, lazily rotating his broad shoulders, moving with a slow languor.
Dilshana sat a few feet away, her chest heaving, Watching him move with unbearable leisure, she muttered,
"Ghuroor ka mujassama... Jaise poori duniya ko intezaar karwana inka paidaishi haq ho."
(The very embodiment of arrogance...
As though making the whole world wait is his birthright.)
He finally stood up, tracing her red-cheeked face on the floor.
He turned and strolled toward the jammed chamber door. Dilshana watched him, expecting him to call out for guards or search for a iron lever to pry it open.
Instead, Agnijeet simply reached out with his left hand, grabbed the brass handle and turned it a couple of times.
And with a flick of his wrist, the door swung wide open into the chamber, moving as smoothly as if it had never been stuck at all.
He didn't even look back at her. He casually walked into the chamber.
Dilshana sat frozen on the cold garden floor, staring at the open doorway in stunned silence. The blood boiled in her veins, rushing to her ears with a deafening roar.
A brutal realization slammed into her mind, making her eyes burned in utter fury.
The door was never jammed. He hadn't even attempted to open it last night. He had knowingly let her freeze, forced her to break her pride, forced her to beg him for warmth, and made her crawl into his arms and all while he knew a single push of his hand would have opened the room.
• The Unanswered Question •
The morning heat was already thick over the mud-packed training ground. Sweat and red dust coated Agnijit's bare shoulders as he moved in the center of the ring.
Ten fully armored warriors surrounded him with drawn swords, their knuckles white on their hilts.
They attacked all at once, attempting to overwhelm him by numbers. Agnijeet parried a downward strike, turned the force of the blade against the second attacker, and brought the butt of his sword hilt on the third man's nose. The soldier went down hard.
Agnijeet moved. A blade grazed his forearm, drawing blood, but he barely registered it. He ducked under a swing, grabbed the attacker by his neck guard, and slammed him into two others rushing from the flank.
Within minutes, seven men lay groaning in the dirt. The remaining three warriors lowered their swords, taking slow steps backward.
Agnijeet wiped the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, letting the point of his sword rest in the dirt.
He turned and walked toward the shaded corner of the arena, where Vijaydev and Vishwajeet were waiting.
Vijaydev handed him a damp cloth. "Nagpal?"
Agnijeet took the cloth, wiping the sweat from his neck. "He slipped away."
Vishwajeet stood with his arms crossed against his chest. Quiet, composed, and razor-sharp, his eyes rarely betrayed any emotion, but his mind was always three steps ahead of everyone in the room.
"Then we double the spies in the outer provinces and monitor every messenger leaving the valley."
Agnijeet met Vishwajeet's sharp gaze. For a moment, no words passed between the two brothers, but the silent understanding was instant.
"He will go straight to his master now," Vishwajeet added softly.
Agnijeet gave a single nod. He tossed the stained cloth aside and looked directly at Vishwajeet.
"You are not going to the borders this time."
Vishwajeet raised an eyebrow, his calm expression shifting slightly. "Durgpal gave a direct order. The eastern border needs reinforcement before the monsoon sets in."
"I will handle him," Agnijit said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Kirtipal will take the eastern post instead. I need you here."
Vishwajeet watched his brother closely, stepping a little nearer as the dust around the training ring began to settle.
"Bhai Sa, why did you deny to attack on them?"
Agnijeet picked up a pitcher, pouring cool water over his bloodied forearm before turning his eyes back to Vishwajeet.
"Because the Sultan has a poison for which we had no antidote. Marching there would have meant walking our men straight into a tricky massacre."
Vishwajeet's jaw tightened, a visible tension settling over his usually composed features. "Then what now? If we sit idle, they could launch an assault on our borders at any moment."
"They won't," Agnijeet said, setting the pitcher down with a dull thud. "Because before they even draw their weapons, Kanthal and Malwa will hit them hard from the south."
A lethal smirk broke across Vijaydev's face as he leaned back against the wooden pillar, looking at Agnijeet with admiration. "Every vital piece of intelligence regarding their weak supply lines has already reached the southern warlords."
Vishwajeet took a moment to process the information, but the edge in his tone remained sharp. "Even so, Bhai Sa... once the Sultan recovers from that distraction, his forces will still strike at us eventually."
Agnijeet didn't answer.
His gaze drifted somewhere beyond the training yard as his mind weighed possibilities only he could see.
After a long moment, he gave a thoughtful nod.
"Hmmm..."
Vijaydev shifted, his eyes locking directly onto Agnijeet. He asked, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp tone.
"Lekin sabse bada parshan yeh hai...ki Sultan ab tak shant kyun baitha hai?"
(But the biggest question is... why has the Sultan remained quiet until now?)
Agnijeet didn't answer.
He met Vijaydev's piercing gaze in silence, but beneath his unreadable demeanor, the very same question had been gnawing at his mind. The unnatural calm before the storm felt far too calculated, and it was a puzzle that offered no easy answers.
• The Shard •
The scorching heat of the day lingered inside the stone walls long after the sun dipped behind the hills.
For Dilshana, every single hour felt like an endless torture.
Her mind continuously looped back to the humiliation of the last night.
He had watched her break her pride, swallow her dignity, and crawl into his arms for warmth.
Even worse than the humiliation was the ghost of his touch that refused to leave her skin. She could still feel the suffocating weight of his thigh pinning hers. She felt the warmth of his bare chest, the crushing lock of his arm around her waist, and the vibration of his gravelly voice whispering near her ear.
She scrubbed her arms with a damp cloth until her fair skin turned raw and red. Hot tears burned behind her eyes.
He thinks I am a toy, she thought, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she paced the room like a trapped animal. He thinks he can bend me, freeze me, and force me to beg for his mercy whenever it pleases him!
She couldn't take another second of this suffocating cage. She couldn't face another night of his arrogant dominance. She didn't care about the consequences anymore. She didn't care if he ended her life right then and there. In her mind, dying by his hand was far better than living with him.
Her chest heaving with fury, her eyes landed on the mirror fixed to the wall. she wrapped a thick woollen shawl over the corner of the mirror frame. She pressed her weight against the edge until it gave way with a muffled crack.
She pulled a long, razor-sharp fragment from the frame. She wrapped a strip of her odhni tightly around the blunt end to create a hilt, ignoring the tiny cut it left on her thumb.
Squeezing the lethal shard tightly in her palm, she hid it beneath her pillow, lay down, and waited for the beast to return.
The chamber was plunged into shadows. Only few lamps flickered near the far wall, casting eerie shapes across the room. Dilshana lay on her side on the bed. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and shallow.
The iron latch clicked. Agnijeet stepped inside the chamber. He walked into the bathing area. The splash of water echoed through the quiet room.
A few minutes later, he walked back out into the dim chamber. His long raven hair hung damp over his shoulders.
As he walked toward the bed, his gaze caught something in the shadowy corner of the room.
A wall mirror lay slightly tilted. One of its edges was missing, cleanly snapped off.
A smirk touched the corner of his jawline. He walked to the bed, stepped onto the raised platform, and lay down beside Dilshana.
In the dim light, he stared down at her face. Her eyelids twitched ever so slightly, and the subtle rise and fall of her chest betrayed the tension in her muscles.
Agnijeet gripped her delicate wrist.
Instantly, Dilshana sat up.
Her eyes snapped open, blazing with raw hatred. In her other hand, she held the long piece of broken glass wrapped in a cloth. All the bitterness poured into her arm as she lunged forward, driving the sharp glass straight toward his chest, aiming directly over his heart.
A sharp sound echoed as the tip cut through his skin. Thick blood welled out from the wound, spilling over his carved chest muscles.
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