nidhi-writes

[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - XVI | HIS NIYATI

MASTERLIST

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She ventured into the night without anyone knowing, with only one goal in her heart. She didn't know the exact path, but she trusted the moon. It had always guided her to him in her dreams, and now, it would guide her in this waking world, too.

With tears streaming down her face, she walked quietly, ensuring not to make a sound or catch anyone's attention.

She wrapped a cloth around her body, hiding her identity and protecting herself from the cold wind, which was biting her skin and making it pale.

Her eyes were teary, and she winced with each step; she could still feel the pain from the wound on her abdomen. Why was it taking so long to heal?

Usually, the wounds she had before never lasted this long. Was it because she was in a different reality than her own? Or was this wound just too deep, too cruel? Could it change her life forever?

But she pushed those thoughts away and focused on the road.

Her lips whispered prayers, asking the gods and all the devas to guide her. She followed the path lit by the stars—those same stars that reminded her of Bhalla's eyes every time they sparkled while looking at her.

The wind blew harder now, and the cold air crept through her saree. She held it tighter around her body, her heart beating loud and strong like thunder echoing across the sky.

Time passed. Hours flew. The first light of the sun began to rise.

Still... she hadn't found him.

Was she on the wrong path?

But no, her heart told her to keep going.

Then, as she walked past the quiet market, her ears caught a conversation. She quickly hid behind a pillar and listened closely.

"Did you hear?" one man said while setting up his stall. "Prince Bhalla was seen at the mountain's edge—praying for days."

The other man listened silently as the first continued, "They say he hasn't eaten... not for days. He looks like a real saint now."

The words hit Nandhini hard. Her eyes filled with tears again. But then—realisation.

The mountain's edge! That was just at the outskirts of the city!

She didn't waste a second. A smile lit her face. Hope filled her heart.

She knew the path.

And she would take it.

She was going to find her Bhalla.

After walking for hours, crossing rivers, climbing rocky paths, and moving through stony caves, she finally reached.

Her breath came out in heavy gasps. Her throat burned with dryness, and her legs trembled, threatening to give out from sheer exhaustion.

But just when she thought her body couldn't go any further, her eyes spotted a figure sitting at the edge of a stone before the waterfall.

Her eyes widened. All her tiredness vanished.

Slowly... carefully... she walked toward him—her love, her life, her Bhalla.

When she finally reached him, her chest beat against her ribs like a drum. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she looked at his face.

His features were sunken, dark circles lay heavy under his eyes—it showed how much he had suffered. Only a month had passed, but it looked like he had taken all the pain of the world into himself.

She sat down quietly before him.

Her eyes traced his figure with a small, soft smile.

She remembered a moment they once shared. Bhalla had asked her how Maa Parvati must have felt when she finally reached Shiva, after all those lifetimes of waiting.

He had wondered... what that moment would feel like. How must it be for a soul to return to the one it always belonged to?

Back then, Nandhini didn't quite understand. She had said Parvati must have been happy, after all, she had finally reached her Mahadev.

But now... now she knew. Now she felt it.

When your heart longs for someone...When your soul beats only for them...That reunion isn't just joy. It is joy and pain. Tears and laughter. A divine ache. A sacred love.

Just like Parvati once sat before Shiva, asking him to open his eyes... Nandhini now did the same.

She leaned in closer, her voice soft and full of love.

"Bhalla..." He didn't move.

She tried again, her heart trembling.

"Your Nandhini has come to you... Won't you open your eyes for her?"

"Bhalla..." she whispered again.

This time, something shifted.

The air around them slowed. A stillness wrapped them both, as if the world had gone quiet, leaving only the sound of two hearts beating in perfect sync.

And just like the sun rising gently over the horizon, lighting up what was once dark... Bhalla's eyes opened.

His dark, tired eyes blinked slowly. He looked ahead. At first, everything was a blur... but then, as his vision cleared, he saw her.

Nandhini.

His eyes widened. His mouth parted, unable to speak.

Nandhini let out a soft laugh, the kind that carried tears with it. She couldn't wait a moment longer.

She threw herself into his arms, wrapping herself tightly around the body her heart knew so well—the body that always protected her, always carried her.

She buried her face in his neck, nuzzling into the space that had always felt like home.

Bhalla sat frozen.

His whole body trembled. Tears spilt down his cheeks.

It had been so long since he had felt this warmth, not just the warmth of skin but the warmth of love, the warmth that came from the heart.

She felt different. No, she felt familiar.

She wasn't the distant Nandhini who once held back. She was his Nandhini—the one who had loved him, who had known him, who had his heart since forever.

"Nandhu..." he whispered.

She lifted her head and nodded softly.

Bhalla's eyes sparkled with emotion. And Nandhini gently kissed the tears off his face. Again and again—across his cheeks, forehead, lips—she kissed him like her soul was making up for all the time they had lost.

Bhalla cupped her face in his hands, holding it carefully.

He looked deep into her eyes.

And though he didn't say a word out loud, she heard him.

"You came back for me?"

Nandhini chuckled softly, her fingers brushing through his hair.

"Always."

And two hearts finally got their reality—the reality where they would be together forever, and no one could separate them.

***

A year passed, and Nandhini and Bhalla returned to the place where everyone was filled with joy. Devasena and Baahubali were the happiest. Sivagami, for the first time, saw her son—who always held his anger towards others—smile wholeheartedly. In that moment, she knew it was all because of Nandhini. The two brothers never fought after that.

Baahubali even wanted Bhalla to take back the throne and rule since he had always wanted it more. But Bhalla rejected it for the first time, saying, "I am already ruling the heart of my beloved. I have no intention of ruling anything else."

Even Bhalla's father, who was once salty and kept his distance from everyone because the crown had gone to Baahubali, couldn't help but feel happy as days passed. Seeing his son truly happy, he finally accepted Nandhini as his daughter-in-law.

With two daughters-in-law and the brothers ruling in unity, Mahishmati felt like heaven. No more attacks happened, and even if they did in the future, they had all the backup they needed.

Today was the day of the one-year celebration of Mahendra Baahubali's birth, and the palace was decorated to mark the occasion—the future king's birthday.

Nandhini sat on her armchair, holding little Baahubali and making funny faces at him. The child squealed, reached out to touch her face, and covered her in slobbery kisses, causing her to laugh.

"Oh my love," she whispered, unable to hide her happiness. This time, Mahendra Baahubali would grow up in the palace, knowing his father. She also remembered Sanga and the village people who once mothered Baahubali in the past. She had secretly told the palace to invite them too, so that they could bless the baby. She had already decided that when they arrived, Baahubali would get to know them. The little prince deserved to meet all the mothers who had loved him.

A pair of eyes watched the laughter and squeals with happiness... and a tinge of sadness. Bhalla leaned against a pillar at the entrance, watching Nandhini hug and kiss the baby, pouring out motherly love. But how was he going to reveal the news he carried?

It would break her. It would hurt her.

Nandhini saw Bhalla standing there and nodded at him, as little Baahu slowly drifted to sleep.

Bhalla slowly walked in, crouched beside her, and gently caressed the baby's hair, smiling. Nandhini smiled too. Bhalla had truly changed in every way—calm, grounded, and full of humility.

His eyes stayed on Nandhini, but his mind was filled with many thoughts.

"What happened? What did the vaidya say?" Nandhini asked, her eyes lighting up. They had been trying for a year to have a baby of their own. Her periods were late, and she thought maybe this was finally it.

Bhalla gulped and looked down at the baby again.

Nandhini hummed, "Is it finally good news?" She so badly wanted it to be. She already felt like a mother to little Baahu, but to have a child with Bhalla, a baby of their own, would be beautiful.

Bhalla's eyes welled with tears as he remembered the vaidya's words:

"I am sorry, my prince. Upon checking, it seems the Princess Nandhini is not pregnant."

Bhalla had sighed, thinking, It's okay, we can hope for next time.

But then the vaidya continued, "It's just... since the last time when the princess was wounded in her abdomen, the damage caused seems irreversible. She may not be able to carry a child... ever."

Those words had broken him. Baahubali came in and tried to console him, but even he had tears. No one wanted Nandhini to go through such pain.

"How am I going to tell her?" Bhalla had cried.

Back in the present, Nandhini waited as Bhalla stayed silent.

"Bhalla, what did he say?" she asked again, but Bhalla just smiled and said, "He said it'll happen soon."

Nandhini smiled softly too. "It's okay... we can wait. We have little Baahu for now."

The day passed, the celebrations ended, and guests returned to their homes. As the night dimmed, the palace guards came in holding something.

Bhalla and Baahu looked confused. "What happened?" they asked.

The guards revealed a baby wrapped in torn clothes. "Looks like a newborn... the parents seem to have abandoned him."

The whole palace woke up—except Devasena and Nandhini, who were sleeping with the baby.

Sivagami told Kattappa to take the baby to the ashram. But Bhalla stopped them.

"Wait," he said softly. He slowly took the baby, a boy, into his arms. A smile crept on Bhalla's face.

"I want to keep him," he said.

"Keep the baby? Why?" Sivagami asked.

Bhalla looked at the small baby clutching his finger and said, "As our son, as mine and Nandhini's baby, to live and grow up here."

Everyone looked at each other.

But Sivagami smiled and came near her son. She looked at the sleeping baby clutching Bhalla's finger. "If that's what you and Nandhini want, who am I to say no?"

Bhalla carried the baby to the sleeping Nandhini and gently placed him beside her.

Just like how Krishna came into Yashoda's life, Nandhini's eyes opened to find tiny hands brushing her face. She gasped and sat up, seeing Bhalla smiling beside the baby.

"Bhalla... what...?" she asked.

Bhalla tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "We may take time to have our own child. But it seems God has already sent us one to look after us until then. What do you say?"

Nandhini's eyes filled with tears. She slowly took the baby in her arms and lightly poked his cheek to see if he was real. The baby's eyes opened and met hers, and in that moment, Nandhini knew—without a doubt—this child was hers. She was his mother.

Both new parents leaned over the bed, whispering, kissing, and savouring the moment.

"So what should we name him?" Nandhini asked.

Bhalla smiled. "How about Bhadra?"

Nandhini's eyes widened. Yes. Bhadra.

In this reality, Bhadra would grow up with love alongside Baahu, and they would be the best of brothers.

As both parents snuggled and laughed with their new baby, somewhere in the distance, God smiled and leaned down.

"Well, that went well. What next?" he whispered, flipping to the next page of the wishes his devotees had sent. "Time to start a new one."

THE END

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[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - XIII | HIS NIYATI

MASTERLIST

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With a soft groan, Nandhini's eyes fluttered open, only to be greeted by moonlight that lit up the ground around her. Slowly, she propped herself up and realised she was lying on soft grass in the middle of a flower field.

The gentle wind caressed her lengthy hair, tickling her neck and making her yawn as she stretched. But then her mind froze—where is she?

Her eyes widened as she looked around again. She wasn't in the palace. This wasn't any place she knew. It looked like one of those aesthetic dreamlands where the heroine runs across meadows to find her lost love.

She stood up slowly, the scent of roses filling her nose and making her lips curl into a smile. She looked down at herself and noticed she was wearing a cream-white saree draped in an old-fashioned way, very different from how she wore her saree back in Mahismati.

"Where am I?" she whispered and started walking, trying to understand everything. That's when her eyes landed on a tall, lone tree standing proudly in the middle of the wide field. Its long branches swayed with the wind, almost like dancing to a silent rhythm.

Her breath caught. She knew this place.

"I've been here before," she whispered, walking slowly toward the tree. The moonlight was hidden behind its thick branches, casting a shadow on the ground.

Her fingers gently traced the tree's trunk—it felt ancient, like it had been here forever. But then, something caught her eye. There were markings on the bark. She leaned closer to see.

Her eyes widened. Her lips trembled.

Nandhu 🖤 Bhalla

The names were carved into the bark—faded, old, but still there.

Her hands shook as her fingers brushed against it, and in that moment, memories came flooding in.

A little boy hugged a young girl tightly, whispering,

"Would you always be with me?" 

"Always," she whispered back.

They looked no older than six.

Then the memory changed.

Now, teenagers stood under the same tree, holding hands.

"I have a special birthday gift for you," the girl whispered.

The boy's eyes sparkled. "What is it?" he asked.

Without a word, she leaned forward and kissed him—their first kiss.

The memory rushed forward again.

Now two young adults, maybe eighteen, are tangled in each other's arms.

"I love you," the boy whispered into the girl's ear as he moved against her, lips capturing hers between gasps and moans.

Tears streamed down Nandhini's cheeks as the final memory returned.

"We may never meet again in reality," the young woman said, holding the boy tightly. 

He stood still, shaking his head. "I can't live without you." 

She cupped his face gently. "My dear Bhalla, even if I'm not by your side, I'll always be in here."

She placed her hand on his chest. "You think we'll meet again?"

"I know we will," he replied.

"Okay. If the universe lets us meet again in real life, and if I don't remember you... Don't let me go. Make me yours. Try anything to keep me with you. Even if I reject or disrespect you, remember, my mind has forgotten you. But my soul already knows you. So never let me go." She whispered

"Never," he whispered as they sealed their lips one last time.

Nandhini gasped as her knees buckled. Her hand clutched her chest—her heart burning, her soul aching. She collapsed to the ground, tears falling freely.

She remembered.

Her soul remembered.

It was always him. And for him, it was always her.

Even after every rejection, he never let go. He held onto their love, even when she didn't know it. They had known each other since childhood, meeting in this very field, away from reality, in dreams.

This tree. This place. It was their sacred space.

First friends. The first love. First kiss. First everything.

And now, she was back here. But this time, alone.

"Bhalla... no, no..." she cried, shaking her head as she searched the field, desperate for him.

He wasn't a monster, never to her. She had always told herself she could never love him—oh, how wrong she had been. How many times she must've broken his heart... And yet, he never broke the promise. He never let go.

With a halt, her surroundings faded. Nandhini's eyes widened slowly—she was being pulled out of her dream space. Her lips trembled as she tried to call out the name, "Bhalla..." but the light around her sucked her in, pushing her out as her chest pounded hard.

Her eyes snapped open in the dim light of the room, her lips still whispering through soft cries, "Bhalla..." she murmured and tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through her body. She clutched her abdomen and looked around.

She was back, back in her chamber in Mahismati. She had returned from her dream... No, not a dream. It was the truth.

Sweat dripped from her forehead as the memories flooded back—the attack, Bhalla and Baahubali saving her, Devasena's scream, and Inokshi plunging the knife into her.

"Oh my God," she breathed out, finally realising she was alive. But her eyes immediately searched for the one figure she longed to see, hoping to find him lying beside her.

But all she saw was empty space.

Where is he?

Before she could think more, loud footsteps echoed nearby. Despite the pain, a small smile formed on her lips. Maybe... maybe it's her Bhalla. Her vision blurred with tears—some from the physical pain, most from the aching of her soul.

But instead, Devasena and Baahubali entered, followed by Kattappa and Sivagami. Yet, Nandhini's eyes remained on the doorway. Waiting. Hoping. For just one person—the same person she once wanted to leave, only a few days ago.

"Nandhini!" Devasena cried and rushed to hug her, whispering prayers into her hair. Baahubali sighed in relief seeing her awake, and Sivagami offered a prayer of thanks to the Goddess. Kattappa gently caressed her hair with a fond smile.

Still... Nandhini's gaze was fixed on the door.

He will come. He must be just outside. He'll walk in any moment now.

Devasena's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "Oh, you scared me, my Nandhu. Don't ever do that again," she whispered.

Nandhini smiled faintly and returned the hug, but her brow furrowed when she glanced down and noticed something—Devasena's stomach was flat. Her breathing quickened.

"Your baby! What happened? Oh my God," she stammered. No... Mahendra Baahubali must be born. He must be— her mind rushed.

But Devasena simply smiled.

"Nandhini... nothing happened. The baby is safe. He's already born," she said softly.

The words made Nandhini gasp.

"Born?" Realisation hit her like a wave. How long... how long had she been out?

"How long... how long was I asleep?" she asked. The room fell silent for a moment.

Baahubali stepped forward and took her cold hands into his warm ones.

"The wound you took was deep... too deep. You went into a slumber, and the doctors said only time could heal it. Only when your body started recovering could you wake."

Nandhini stared, heart pounding. She gave a small nod, silently asking him to continue.

"You've been asleep for one moon."

One month?

Her lips parted, but no words came. She couldn't believe it.

"One month? No... no, that can't be," she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. "This... this can't be real."

"Please relax, Nandhini," Devasena said gently. "You shouldn't stress yourself."

Nandhini nodded slightly, calming her breath... but one thing still pounded in her chest.

"Where's Bhalla?" she asked suddenly, looking around. "Where's my husband?"

Her words froze the room. The air grew heavy.

Everyone looked at each other.

And Nandhini's heart started to race again.

And that was how the news was told to her.

Her love... her Bhalla... had left the palace.

He had given up everything—his material possessions, his throne, his power. Everything he had once fought and bled for, he returned to Baahubali—the very things he had craved since he could remember.

But when he saw Nandhini lying motionless, unresponsive despite every attempt to wake her... he couldn't bear it.

He couldn't sit in silence like the others.

So, he walked away.

Not as a prince. Not as the once-mighty Bhallaladeva.

He left with nothing but a worn cotton dhoti wrapped around him, choosing the life of a man who owned nothing. Following the advice of an old rishi, he renounced everything so that maybe, just maybe... his Nandhini would open her eyes again.

It was never about the power.

It was always about her.

And so, he left... to live as a nobody... for the one person who made him feel like somebody.

Bhalla would do anything for her.

And he had kept his word.

"Take me to him! Please... take me!" Nandhini begged, her voice cracking.

But her legs—frail and weak from a month of bedrest—refused to support her. They had forgotten how to walk.

"You shouldn't push yourself," Baahubali said gently. "We'll send someone to find Bhalla. Don't worry... now that you're awake, he won't stay gone for long."

But how could she wait?

She couldn't just sit.

Yet time moved on, slow and cruel.

One day became two.

Two became three.

Three became a week.

And Bhalla... still did not return.

Her eyes dulled. The once-sharp fire has now reduced to ash.

She found herself alone again, sitting in the chamber they once shared. The silence around her was deafening. She clutched his pillow, holding it tight, breathing in the last trace of him left behind, hoping it would ease the aching void in her heart.

But nothing helped.

Not even the memory of his touch... could stop the tears from falling.

And she hated being here—trapped in walls of silk and stone—when her Bhalla was out there... somewhere in the world, with nothing.

What must he be doing? Had he eaten? Was he safe?

The thought shook her to her core.

She paced aimlessly through the chamber, her weakened legs gradually finding rhythm as her heart throbbed with worry. Her fingers drifted across the edges of the books he once read, the handle of his sword resting on the study table... every corner of the room smelled of him, echoed with memories of him.

A soft sob slipped from her lips, salty tears trailing down her cheeks.

And then, her hand froze.

Her eyes caught something she had never noticed before. Hidden carefully, tucked deep within the shelves—a wooden canvas, covered in dust.

Curious, she winced slightly as she pulled it out.

She turned it over.

And her heart cracked open.

It was them—him and her—painted in soft strokes, captured in a moment of raw tenderness. Their first kiss, immortalised in silence.

He had painted it and kept it safe. Never showed it.

She clutched it to her chest and cried... cried as if her soul was bleeding through her tears.

A sad smile tugged at her lips as she shook her head gently. This was her Bhalla—a warrior with hands that held swords—and painted love.

The moonlight poured in, silver and soft, as she wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

No.

She would not sit here and wilt in his absence.

She would not wait for others to find him.

She will go to him.

She must.

Even if it meant searching every forest path, every riverbank, every edge of the world.

Because she always found her Bhalla.

And he... always came to her.

"I'm coming, my love," she whispered, the painting still pressed to her heart.

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[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - XII | HIS NIYATI

MASTERLIST

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The group of people walked down the thorny parts of the forest, trying to get out of Mahishmati. They wore ragged clothes, leaving all their expensive things behind—even the small ones—fearing they might be seen and killed. They walked barefoot, carefully avoiding any open place where the Kalakeyas might spot them.

"Fast, fast... let's move," the elder whispered, leading them ahead. Men, women, children—all ages—were there, maybe around two dozen of them.

But it seemed luck wasn't on their side.

Just moments later, they were surrounded—like hungry vultures in human form. No mercy, no soul in those faces.

The cries of the people filled the forest as the Kalakeyas tied everyone up with thick ropes. Even the strong men couldn't fight back. They were all dragged like dogs on leashes. Even animals are treated better... but humans? Only hatred was shown. What a cruel world.

Nandhini's ears perked up at the noise. Her eyes opened slowly, blurry at first, but then everything became clear. The cries of her people... they sounded familiar.

Her eyes widened. Did those demons... capture innocent people?

Anger rose in her chest. Yes, maybe those people were trying to leave Mahishmati, and at any other moment, she would have felt betrayed, but now? She understood. They were scared. After what happened last time, they feared they'd end up dead. It made sense.

Before she could even move or speak, a rough hand grabbed her by the back of her neck.

Fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her out of where she had been imprisoned.

Pain shot through her scalp like her hair was being ripped from the roots. She whimpered, trying to claw at the arm holding her, but she couldn't reach it.

Back where the people were being dragged, they were now forced to kneel in front of Inokshi, who sat there smirking, sharpening a rusted blade that stank of blood and death.

Everyone from Mahismati had their heads pushed down, as if they were being made to show respect to the demon who didn't deserve even a speck of it.

He wasn't just worse than his father—he was filth in its purest form.

"Wah... what a sight," Inokshi chuckled, his voice sharp like poison.

"The people of Mahismati who tried to leave their kingdom, in the middle of war, fearing the one they should fear... ME!"

He laughed, loud and nasty like a hyena—though even a hyena would look cuter than him in person.

As he slowly walked through the crowd, he hit a few men on the head for fun, and leaned too close to the women, sniffing them with that disgusting alcohol breath of his.

Inokshi had to admit—the women of Mahismati were truly something—beautiful. The men were strong, too, but not stronger than his own. Still, they could be used as labourers, hunters, and tools.

He saw the sadness in their eyes. It made him smirk.

Good. He wanted them to beg. To remember. They had taken down his father once—he would make sure they never dared to again.

"You all look like you've walked a long way. Tired?" he asked with a grin. "Haha," he mocked, as the people stared at him, their breaths heavy with fear.

The men of Mahismati looked at one another, gritting their teeth. They were angry—but bound. Helpless.

"Don't worry. I don't kill you guys," he said with a smirk, "At least, not when I can use you. And not the females... yet."

His men laughed—some of them licking their lips like beasts, eyeing the women with eyes that made skin crawl.

The women shuddered, shrinking under those awful gazes.

"Proclaim your loyalty to me," Inokshi declared, "and I might let you live."

Silence.

His eye twitched.

"Oh? What's this silence? Am  I not worth your loyalty, Mahismati low-lives?" he shouted.

He flicked his hand, and one of his soldiers rushed off immediately, as if reading the prince's mind.

Inokshi took a breath, calming.

"It's alright," he whispered coldly, "Maybe you don't fear me enough yet. Maybe... I haven't shown you what happens when people defy me. If that's the case, then it's my failure."

His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.

Suddenly, the air was filled with a woman's scream. All heads turned.

They were dragging someone. Their eyes widened.

It was their young queen, Nandhini. The one their King, Bhalladeva, had married.

Gasps echoed. Some of them tried to speak, but no words came.

Nandhini fought against the soldier, dragging her, scratching his hand, but he didn't let go. Her sari was caught on rocks, tearing, tugging, until she was thrown to the ground like nothing.

Her eyes found his—Inokshi's. If looks could kill, he'd be ashes already.

Her lips trembled, but two men came to lift her. She shoved them off, pulling herself up. Hair messy, face fierce. Sari torn. Her chest rising, eyes burning, legs and arms scratched and bleeding—but she didn't care.

She stood tall like a storm before it breaks.

Before she could speak, another figure was brought forward—Devasena.

Her heart twisted.

Though Devasena wasn't dragged, she looked weak—probably just woken up, clutching her baby bump, tired and drained. Nandhini's jaw tightened.

At least these monsters had the mercy not to drag a pregnant woman. But it didn't matter. Mercy from demons means nothing.

Inokshi looked at Nandhini and smiled cruelly.

"Oh, don't worry," he said, "I don't hurt pregnant women...Until I have to."

His words made Nandhini's stomach turn.

Her hands fisted. Her eyes locked on him like daggers.

"Now proclaim your loyalty to me," Inokshi sneered, "so that these low-lives follow you. You are their queen, aren't you?"

Nandhini's eyes blazed. Fire danced in them.

"Hyenas may think they're powerful," she whispered, her voice steady, "but they can never be lions. And they can never buy loyalty."

Inokshi's smile vanished. He slapped her hard. Her face jerked to the side, her hair flying, her cheek turning red.

Devasena gasped, trying to break free from the men holding her. But one of them pressed a sharp blade to her stomach. She froze instantly, clutching her baby bump.

"Proclaim your loyalty," Inokshi said again, "and accept me as your mate."

Nandhini chuckled, even as blood spilt from the corner of her mouth. "I have a husband," she spat, "and he will hunt you down. I already warned you. You will pay."

Inokshi grabbed her hair and yanked her face close to his.

"Hunt me?" he laughed. "The one wounded in the war? I'd love to see that. What's his name again?"

He turned to the crowd. "Say it. I want to hear the name of the man you married. SAY IT!"

Nandhini didn't flinch. Her eyes locked with his. Unmoving. Unbroken.

"Bhallaladeva," she whispered. "And he will be your death."

Inokshi's laugh echoed through the forest. Loud. Mocking.

"Where is he then? Call him! Call him again! Let's see if he really will come and hunt me!"

He shook her roughly. Her lips parted, bleeding now—but her voice came, cold and clear:

"Bhalla."

Just then, a whistle of an arrow. Metal clashing.

Before Inokshi could move, a strong force threw him back, knocking the air from his lungs. He hit the ground with a thud, coughing, and was dazed.

As he looked up, his eyes widened.

Two tall figures stood before Nandhini and Devasena. Protective. Unshaken. Burning with fury.

Bhallaladeva. Baahubali.

The warriors of Mahismati.

They had slipped into the forest as common men, hidden among their people. They had watched. Waited. Let the Kalakeyas get distracted.

But now?

Now they had come for payback.

Payback for touching their kingdom. For laying a finger on their women.

The fight broke out like a raging storm.

Inokshi was hit from both sides, barely able to dodge as Bhallaladeva and Baahubali came at him like twin lions. All around them, Mahismati soldiers surrounded the Kalakeyas, swords drawn, eyes burning with vengeance.

Inokshi found a weak spot—he struck Bhalla right where his war wound was. Bhalla staggered, clutching his side in pain.

Baahubali saw his brother falter. And that was it.

With a roar, he launched himself at Inokshi—blades flashing, fury unleashed. He didn't give the demon prince a moment to breathe, let alone defend.

Bhalla, regaining his strength, caught Inokshi by the throat. With just one hand, he started choking him, lifting him off the ground. Inokshi gasped, feet kicking helplessly in the air.

Then, Baahu struck him on the head with the very crown Inokshi wore.

Blood splattered.

Nandhini's eyes burned with vengeance. Devasena smirked, watching her husband beat the hell out of their captor. That will teach them.

Bhalla finally let go. Inokshi collapsed to the ground, choking and twitching.

Baahu narrowed his eyes, but Bhalla raised a hand and said, "We bring him to Mother. Alive. I may have failed once... but not again."

Baahu gave a small smile.

Nandhini looked at Bhalla, stunned. Did he just say that?

The battle had ended. Baahu ordered his soldiers to capture Inokshi and the rest of the Kalakeyas, and the people of Mahismati were finally freed.

Baahu rushed to Devasena, who clung to him tightly. Tears welled in his eyes as he saw her condition. He looked over at Nandhini, gently caressed her hair, and smiled to assure her she was safe. She nodded back, relieved.

Bhalla stood in front of Nandhini, keeping a respectful distance. His eyes were filled with tears.

Baahu noticed. He gave them space.

Nandhini looked at Bhalla. Was it love? No. But she saw something new in him.

Respect. Redemption. A man she could stand beside, not fear.

As Bhalla took a step forward, Nandhini's smile froze.

Her eyes widened.

Behind him, Inokshi. Watching their reunion. Jealousy twisted his face.

Why doesn't any woman ever look at me like that?

He shook off the guards, grabbed a knife, and charged.

Straight at Bhalla.

Nandhini didn't think. She threw herself forward, pushing Bhalla out of the way.

The knife drove into her abdomen.

A gasp escaped her lips. Pain shot through her as her saree soaked in red. She staggered.

Bhalla caught her just before she hit the ground. Her vision blurred.

All she could hear was shouting. Crying.

And then...Nothing.

Darkness.

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[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - XI | HIS NIYATI

MASTERLIST

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Nobody would have believed that the two sides of the coin would finally agree on something.

Yes, even the mightiest of enemies come together for their women, and that's exactly what Bhalla and Baahu did. The moment they heard about the abduction of the two women who meant everything to them, they set aside their differences to rescue their loved ones.

For the first time in so long, Sivagami saw both her sons standing together. Her heart swelled with pride, yet at the same time, it crushed her to see them united only because of such a cruel reason.

Bhalla gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain of his wounds. He didn't care how much his body ached—he wanted nothing more than to take his sword and cut down those filthy creatures who had dared to touch his Nandhini.

Nobody touches her.

How dare those Kalakeyas have the audacity to take the Queen of Mahishmati? His queen!

Bhalla had heard enough.

"Enough! That's it! Gather the army. I will face that son of a bitch myself and take his head!"

Baahubali shook his head.

"We have to be cautious, King. We don't know where they are being held or under what conditions. Whatever we do, it cannot put the Queen and Devasena in more danger."

Baahubali's heart ached just saying Devasena's name. She had always been by his side, a warrior strong enough to protect herself. But now... she was with child. And that fear—it clawed at his chest like a monster.

Bhalla watched his cousin—the brother he grew up with.

If this were any other situation, he would have smirked, enjoying Baahu's pain. But now... now, he understood. His Nandhini was out there too, suffering at enemy hands. And suddenly, he could feel exactly what Baahu was feeling.

The thought of what Nandhini might be going through—it made his chest tighten in agony.

Sivagami looked at her two boys. No. She would not let this continue. Mahishmati was not weak.

And then—an idea struck her.

"We might have a way," she said.

Everyone turned toward the Rajamata.

Bijjaladeva scoffed. "And what is that, Sivagami?"

He pretended not to care, but seeing his son like this... even he hoped they would get that girl, Nandhini, back. He still didn't care about Devasena.

Sivagami's gaze shifted to Kattappa.

"Kattappa, do you remember... during Vikramadeva's reign, when the kingdom faced a similar crisis? What did the King do?"

Kattappa's eyes widened.

How could he forget? The great King had been a beast that day.

"Yes, Rajamata, of course, I remember." He smirked.

Bhalla and Baahu exchanged glances.

Bijjaladeva gritted his teeth. Oh, he remembered too. And he knew what was coming.

Sivagami nodded.

"We are going to do the same."

Bhalla stepped forward.

"And what is that, Mother?"

Sivagami smirked.

As she revealed the plan, the fire of Mahishmati burned brighter than ever.

No. Mahishmati will never bow down to its enemies.

***

Inokshi slurped his alcohol, trying to drown out the pain as the physician worked on his open wound.

"Make it faster," he whispered, gulping down another mouthful of alcohol, hissing as the burning sensation mixed with his pain.

His eyes darkened, his mind replaying the humiliation he suffered at the hands of that Bhalla, the King of Mahishmati.

His gaze wandered toward the hidden chamber, veiled by thick bushes—the place where the jewel of Mahishmati stayed.

Oh, how beautiful she was. Heavenly.

Inokshi had never seen such a vision—skin so soft, eyes so sharp they could kill a man, lips so full he wanted to drink from them like an elixir only she could provide.

And her body...

His lips curled into a smirk, remembering the moment he first laid eyes on her. He had wanted to take her right then and there, to hear her scream his name as she fought against him.

Of course, she would fight him. She should.

But in the end, it wouldn't matter.

He would take her, own every inch of her, mark her as his.

At first, his only goal had been to take the crown. But then, he heard about how the mighty king was utterly obsessed with a woman. And that made him want her even more.

And now, she was his.

It was only a matter of time before he would fully own her.

But his fantasies about the beautiful flower were cut short by the sound of footsteps approaching.

Inokshi gritted his teeth, his annoyed eyes snapping up to meet his trusted guards.

"What?" he whispered, taking another swig of his drink, burping loudly as the liquid burned down his throat.

The guards hesitated. "King... there's news... that—"

Inokshi raised an impatient eyebrow, signaling them to spit it out.

"Say it before I slice off your heads," he hissed, already irritated that they dared to spoil his mood.

The guard swallowed hard. "A group from Mahishmati... they're migrating, my lord. Because of the king's injury and... our threats, they're seeking refuge in a nearby kingdom."

Inokshi snapped upright, his smirk vanishing.

No.

No one was leaving Mahishmati.

That wretched kingdom belonged to him. Their pain, their suffering, their very lives— he had plans for all of them.

And now, they thought they could just escape?

"No. Not a single soul leaves that kingdom," he growled, his fingers tightening around the cup until it cracked under his grip. "Where are they heading?"

"Through the forest. Tonight."

Inokshi's lips curled into a dark, wicked smirk.

"Get our men ready." His voice dripped with cruelty. "We're about to have a feast... of blood."

With his bottle of alcohol in hand, Inokshi staggered his way toward the beauty he had claimed.

Meanwhile, Nandhini gritted her teeth, her wrists burning as she slowly, carefully rubbed the rope against the jagged stone behind her. Bit by bit, she tried to slice through the restraints, but it wasn't cutting fast enough.

Then—

Footsteps.

She froze.

Her body tensed, but she forced herself to go still, quickly shutting her eyes and pretending to sleep.

She would rather fake sleep than be forced to look at that wretched demon.

A shadow loomed over her.

The disgusting stench of alcohol filled her nose, making her stomach turn, but she stayed motionless.

A low chuckle rumbled from above her, sending a shudder through her body—one of pure revulsion.

"Faking sleep now, are we?" he whispered.

Her heart stopped.

Before she could even react, a strong, filthy hand snatched her neck—his fingers tangling in her hair and yanking her up.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips as her eyes flew open.

She came face to face with the ugliest monster she had ever seen.

Inokshi smirked, his dark eyes filled with something vile as he inhaled deeply, taking in her scent.

"My, my, my... even after a day in the mud, you still smell divine."

Nandhini clenched her jaw, fighting against his grip, but he only yanked her closer until she could feel his disgusting breath on her skin.

"Fighting against me?" he taunted, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. "I can only imagine how you'd fight... when you're under me."

Her eyes flashed with fury.

Never.

Before he could even blink, she spat straight into his face.

"Fuck off, you insufferable demon."

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—rage exploded in his eyes.

With a snarl, he backhanded her across the face.

The loud crack echoed in the air.

Nandhini bit her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream. But he only laughed, a deep, wicked laugh that made her blood boil.

"Ah... hiding your screams, are you?" he sneered. "But not for long."

He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his gaze.

"And have you heard the news?" His voice was sickly sweet, a twisted mockery. "The people of your so-called kingdom... are trying to flee."

Nandhini's eyes narrowed.

That was a lie. The people of Mahishmati would never leave. They loved their kingdom.

But Inokshi only smirked, reading her thoughts.

"And do you want to hear something even better?" he murmured. "I'm going to capture them. And you, my dear, are going to watch... as I make them suffer for my father's death."

Nandhini's blood ran cold.

"No... no... leave them alone! They are innocent!" she pleaded, but Inokshi only laughed, shaking his head.

Her eyes darkened.

"Count your blessings, Inokshi," she hissed. "Because you'll need them. Your end is near."

He leaned in, smirking. "Let's see who falls first—me... or your king and his kingdom... at my hands."

Then, with one final shove, he threw her down into the damp earth.

Nandhini landed hard, her face pressed against the drenched soil.

She lay there, her body trembling, her cheek stinging, her tears mixing with the mud beneath her.

Her heart screamed one name.

"Please come fast..." she whispered, praying, hoping—

That Bhalla would find her.

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[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - X | HIS NIYATI

MASTERLIST

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The walls of his chamber were suffocating him.

Without her presence, the air felt heavy, pressing against his chest, threatening to strangle him. He could not stay there any longer. The silence mocked him, the room's emptiness amplifying the ache in his heart.

So he walked.

His wounds from the war barely registered—mere scratches compared to the pain festering inside him. His legs carried him aimlessly until he found himself in the palace gardens.

The evening glow bathed the flowers in gold, their delicate petals swaying with the whisper of the wind. It was beautiful—almost painfully so. And at that moment, all he could think about was her.

He wished his Nandhini was with him, standing by his side, taking in this beauty together.

But she wasn't.

Because she hated him.

And why wouldn't she? He had given her every reason to.

But if only—if only—she remembered that this was not the first time they had met. If only she could recall what he could never forget. She had always been with him, woven into the very fabric of his soul, ever since he was a boy. But to her, he was just an arrogant prince. A ruthless king. A captor.

A dry chuckle escaped him, bitter and broken.

Of course.

It had always been this way.

His mother. His people. His crown.

And now, her.

No one ever loved him as much as he loved them. No one ever chose him first. No one ever saw him the way he so desperately wanted to be seen.

Maybe this was his curse.

A life of longing. A lifetime of reaching out, only to be left grasping at nothing. A cruel fate where he was destined to be unloved, to be abandoned, to wait and beg for scraps of affection that would never be enough to fill the hunger inside him.

The chuckle trembled into a quiet whimper.

He barely noticed when his knees weakened, forcing him to lean against the cool stone edge for balance. The sharp contrast between his burning chest and the cold surface sent a shiver through him.

And then—he felt it.

A single tear slipped past his defenses.

The betrayal of his own body.

Furious, he wiped it away, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to move. One step. Then another. He wouldn't allow himself to break. Not now. Not ever.

But then—his footing slipped.

The world tilted briefly, and a strong arm caught him before he could even brace himself for the fall.

Bhalla froze.

His body went rigid as the scent of battle-worn steel and strength engulfed him.

Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his gaze.

And there, standing before him, holding him upright with an unshaken grip—

Was Baahubali.

***

With her hands and eyes bound, Nandhini thrashed, kicking at the air as she let out a furious shout.

"Hey! Who is there?! I dare you to let me go, you cowards!"

She refused to sit still, twisting her head from side to side, her wild hair whipping around as only darkness surrounded her.

"Do you even know who I am?! You don't mess with me! You will get your ass beaten up, you idiots!" she barked, baring her teeth in the direction of what she assumed were her captors.

Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, but she wasn't done.

"And you better make sure my sister Deva is fine! If not, I swear on every god and demon in this world, you are all DEAD!"

Her threats echoed in the dense forest, where the Kalakeya guards stood frozen, watching her. 

One of them, unable to take it anymore, muttered under his breath in Kilikki:

"Damn! Is she ever going to shut up?"

Another one, rubbing his ears as if in pain, whispered back

"How is she still shouting? That too, this much shouting from a body as small as hers?"

A third one, clearly starting to second-guess their actions, hesitated before murmuring:

"Should we inform our Prince? What if we captured the wrong person?"

The first one nodded vigorously, his voice hushed in fear.

"You are right... which queen acts like this? Maybe we caught a Rakshasi!"

They all exchanged nervous glances before subtly inching away, expecting Nandhini to sprout fangs and claws any second.

Meanwhile, Nandhini, oblivious to their growing horror, continued her furious rant—only stopping when she realized her throat was getting sore.

And yet, she had the sinking suspicion that no one was taking her seriously.

The air shifted with the arrival of someone new. The guards, nervously watching their captive, straightened up immediately. Boots crunching against the rough ground echoed.

Then, a low chuckle.

Prince Inokshi, the newly crowned leader of the Kalakeyas, strode forward with a smirk across his scarred face. His body bore the marks of the last battle, fresh wounds. That gaze landed on the woman tied before him, struggling against her bindings, her voice spitting curses like arrows.

His smirk widened.

So, the Queen of Mahishmati has a sharp tongue. Interesting.

Even with a blindfold covering her eyes, her beauty was undeniable. He tilted his head, observing her—a woman so fearsome yet striking in her fury.

Nandhini's ears twitched at the sound of the low chuckle. Her lips curled in distaste.

"Who's there? I know you're near! Take this damn blindfold off!" she shouted, her voice echoing against the stone walls.

She sucked in a breath as she felt a shift in the air—someone was close. Too close. The warmth of their breath ghosted over her skin, and her stomach churned with unease.

Then, a voice—low, taunting, and laced with amusement.

"Nobody told me the Queen of Mahishmati was this beautiful."

Nandhini's entire body stiffened, disgust crawling up her spine. The voice belonged to a young man, someone close to her age, but all she felt was disgust. His tone dripped with arrogance, as if he were tasting the words as he spoke them. And—oh god—that accent.

She wanted to gag.

"Who are you?" she snapped, her jaw clenching.

No answer.

Instead, her ears picked up murmured words in a language that made her blood run cold.

A foreign tongue.

A tongue she had only heard in times of war in a movie.

Her breath hitched as recognition slammed into her.

Kilikki.

These were not just captors.

They were Kalakeyas.

And she was deep in enemy territory.

"Why so silent? Did the cat get her tongue?"

Inokshi chuckled as he reached out, his fingers brushing against Nandhini's cheek. She flinched away, disgust flashing across her face.

"Don't you dare touch me with your filthy hands!" she snarled, her voice sharp enough to cut through the thick air.

Inokshi tilted his head, amused. "Oh, you have fire in you. I like that in a woman."

He inhaled slowly, taking in the intoxicating scent of her hair. Her smooth skin, her plump lips—they were all so tempting. The Kalakeyas always had their weaknesses: land, women, and good alcohol. And right now, staring at her, he was certain—he wanted her.

"Where is my sister?"

The shift in her tone made his amusement falter for a second. His eyes flickered to his guards, who responded in Kilikki.

"We have put the other female in a separate area, my lord. She is highly skilled... but she is also pregnant. We have given her a heavy dose of a drink which keep her sleeping longer".

Inokshi nodded. Nandhini's head snapped toward the direction of their voices, straining to decipher the foreign words. But she caught nothing. Damn it! She cursed herself for never learning the language—she had watched Baahubali, but never bothered to understand Kilikki.

A smirk tugged at Inokshi's lips as he reached for her blindfold. Slowly, he unraveled the fabric.

Nandhini's eyes squinted as they adjusted to the surroundings. And then, she saw him.

As she had imagined, he was young and quite handsome—not like Bhalla, no. Bhalla was raw power and divine. His closeness made her stomach churn. A sharp kick to his no-sunshine place would be very satisfying right about now.

Inokshi, however, was utterly entranced.

He had already found her beautiful before, but now, looking into her eyes, he was drowning. They held an entire universe within them. What had started as an act of revenge for his father's death had now turned into something more—an obsession.

"You made a big mistake", Nandhini said, causing Inokshi to smile.

"Is that so? He answered

"Yes, you're playing with fire," Nandhini warned.

Inokshi let out a deep chuckle. "I am the fire, sweetheart. And I will engulf everything in my path. That includes you."

Her eyes widened in shock, her breath hitching as she struggled against her restraints.

"I am married."

His laugh echoed through the forest. "So? Once I defeat your husband, I will take his crown... and I will have you in front of his dying eyes. You will whimper and moan as you take my seed like a good girl. My son will grow inside you. And when the time comes, I will mount Bhalla's head on a spike."

Nandhini's stomach twisted in revulsion. Her entire body shook with rage.

"Fuck off, you disgusting cockroach!"

She spat in his face.

The laughter vanished.

Inokshi's eyes darkened, fire blazing in them as he grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look at him. His grip was bruising, but Nandhini refused to show weakness.

"Oh, the Queen has a sharp tongue. But count your blessings, darling—I desire you. I could have chosen to torture you instead."

With a rough shove, he let go of her, stepping back.

"Guard her up. She does not leave from this area."

The guards nodded, dragging her back. Tieng her back to a large tree

Nandhini squeezed her eyes shut, her skin crawling from his touch.

For the first time in her life, she missed Bhalla.

His touch had never made her feel dirty.

His touch had never made her feel afraid.

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[nidhi-writes]

Shiva: sniffles Do you think I’m ugly?

Vishnu: pauses, looks at him Oh, my sweet, dumb Mahadev—you're the most beautiful boy ever.

Shiva: hiccups Then why did she faint? *his mother in law*

Vishnu: Because she got hit by your beauty. Too much divine handsomeness for mortal eyes.

Shiva: squints You’re lying.

Vishnu: gasps dramatically I would NEVER.

Shiva: grumbles, flopping onto the floor Maybe I should do a makeover or something.

Vishnu: Ooooh, now we’re talking. Let’s glam you up.

Shiva: No peacock feathers.

Vishnu: … But a little gold dust?

Shiva: groans This is going to be a disaster.

Vishnu: grinning No, no. This is going to be ICONIC.

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[nidhi-writes]

hi,I recently discovered your tumblr and tbh i am a big fan of his niyati!So well written🫶🏻Can we expect a chapter 9 in this series?

Hey,

Thank you for reading my work!! I mam very glad you find it good.

Yes I just posted. Please refer to below link. Also I do write in wattpad too which contains till chapter - 10. If you like please do check it there as well.

Wattpad Link:

[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - IX | HIS NIYATI

MASTERLIST

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"You have hurt me more than any arrow, more than any blade piercing my skin," Bhalla whispered, his voice strained with pain. "Your actions wounded my heart—the heart that loved you more than anything."

Bhallaladeva lay on his bed, his body covered in wounds, his left arm bound in a sling, fractured from the brutal war. Yet, despite the pain, he had won. Or, at least, that was partially true.

But was it truly a victory?

The new Kalkeya chief, Inokshi, had fled the battlefield after being overpowered by Bhalla, unable to match his ferocity. But Bhalla had paid the price for his ruthless conquest—his body bore the cost of war. His wounds would heal with time, but the wound in his heart, inflicted by the one he loved, felt far more unbearable.

Because while he had been fighting, his Queen had done the unthinkable.

She had brought Baahubali back to the palace.

The moment still played in Nandhini's mind—the day Bhalla left for war.

When Bhalla geared up for the war, her eyes never left his stern face, which was so much different than what he usually had for her. A part of her missed it, but another part of her was relieved as well.

She performed the Aarti. Her fingers trembled slightly as she applied the red tilak to Bhalla's forehead, and a silent prayer escaped her lips.

She knew Bhalla was strong—there was no doubt about that—but without Baahu, he lacked restraint. Bhalla was a force of destruction who didn't think twice before unleashing his fury upon his enemies. The thought of innocent civilians caught in the crossfire made her uneasy.

Just as he turned to leave, she caught his wrist. "Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of soldiers preparing for war. "Make better choices this time."

For a moment, she thought he would pull away, dismiss her words like he always did when it came to war. But instead, his fingers found their way into her hair, brushing through it gently before he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.

His lips curled into a smirk. "Don't worry, my Queen. Mahishmati will see victory once again."

Then he left, marching toward war, leaving her alone in the palace.

Unlike Sivagami, who stood at the war front, watching the battle unfold, Nandhini locked herself in her chamber, standing by the balcony that overlooked the sea rather than the battlefield. She couldn't bear to witness the screams, the bloodshed, or the uncertainty of the outcome.

But she knew one thing—Mahishmati needed more than just brute strength. It needed wisdom, strategy, and restraint. And only one man could provide that.

Baahubali.

Determined, she slipped away unnoticed, hidden beneath a dark cloak, moving through secret passages to leave the palace. It was dangerous and even reckless, but she knew she had to do it.

After an exhausting journey, she reached a secluded hut. Baahu stood outside, deep in thought. Her footsteps made him turn, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Nandhini?" he asked, stepping closer. "What are you doing here?"

She barely had time to respond before Devasena appeared from inside, her sharp eyes narrowing in concern. "You came here alone? At night?" she demanded, her voice laced with worry.

Nandhini smiled. "I had to."

Baahu's expression darkened. "This is dangerous. What if the Kalkeyas had found you? Captured you?"

"I know, Baahu," she admitted, her voice firm. "But this is important."

Baahu and Devasena exchanged glances before nodding for her to continue.

"You need to come back. Back to Mahishmati," she declared, her voice unwavering.

Devasena's brows furrowed. "But why?"

Baahu clenched his jaw, anger flashing as he stood up. "What are you saying, Nandhini? I cannot go against the Queen Mother's command!"

Nandhini took a step forward, her gaze piercing. "But you will go against the Queen's?"

Baahu froze, stunned by her words.

"As the Queen of Mahishmati, the wife of King Bhallaladeva, I order you to return to the palace by dawn," she said, her voice ringing with authority.

That was how she had brought Baahu back. She had succeeded in her plan, But it came with a cost.

Now, standing before Bhalla, she felt the weight of her actions.

"Bhalla, please listen to me," she pleaded.

But the wounded king turned his face away, his expression unreadable.

"With all the wounds on my body," he murmured, "it is your betrayal that hurts the most."

Her heart clenched. "I never meant to betray you," she whispered.

Bhalla let out a hollow chuckle. "I made you my Queen, Nandhini. I gave you my love. And yet, you chose to bring back the very man who stands against me."

Nandhini's hands trembled at her sides, her heart pounding as she looked at Bhallaladeva—the man who had chained her to his throne in the name of love. She had been silent for too long. But not anymore.

"You loved me?" she repeated, her voice breaking into a bitter laugh. "You loved me so much that you locked me in these walls, forcing me to marry you as if I were some prize to be claimed."

Bhalla's jaw tightened, his fingers curling into fists.

"You love me so much that you go out of your way to hurt the people I hold close to my heart," she continued, her voice rising with anger and anguish. "Tell me, Bhalla—did you make me your Queen just to lay claim to my body? To watch me walk through these halls as a mere decoration? Or did you truly want a queen who would act in the best interest of Mahishmati?"

She took a step closer, her eyes burning into his. "I acted as a queen. Not just for the people, but for you as well."

Bhalla flinched as if struck, but his pride refused to let him waver. "And yet, you decided to bring him back," he growled.

Nandhini lifted her chin. "Yes. Baahu will be with us until we resolve everything. As Queen, I made that decision."

Bhalla let out a cold, humourless chuckle. "And what of my decision, Rani?" he spat.

She swallowed her throat tight. "If you are against it, then do whatever you want."

She turned swiftly, her steps echoing against the marble floors as she walked away, leaving behind the wounded king who had only ever sought to cage her in his love.

But guilt gnawed at her with every step.

The man who—despite everything—had once loved her in his own twisted way.

And the man she had just shattered.

Nandhini needed air. She needed to be away from these suffocating walls, away from the weight of Bhallaladeva's gaze burning into her back, away from the endless celebrations ringing through the palace like an echo of everything she could not feel. Victory. Triumph. A kingdom rejoicing.

She turned sharply on her heel, her mind made up. There was only one person she wanted to see right now.

Deva.

She hurriedly went to the nearby chamber where Devasena resided upon her orders. 

Pushing the doors open, Nandhini stepped inside.

Devasena sat by the window; she turned and smiled as soon as she saw her.

"Nandhini," Devasena greeted softly.

Nandhini inhaled sharply, trying to steady herself. "I need to go out, Deva. I can't stay here."

Devasena studied her for a moment, then nodded in understanding. She had seen enough grief, betrayal, and love twisted into shackles—she knew what Nandhini felt without her having to say it.

"I'll come with you," Deva said.

Nandhini exhaled, relieved.

Without further delay, Devasena ordered a handful of soldiers and horsemen to accompany them. As they prepared to leave, Nandhini couldn't help but glance toward the main halls, half-expecting Sivagami to appear and demand answers. But the Queen Mother remained absent.

Perhaps she, too, was silently relieved that Baahubali was back.

Neither woman spoke as they rode through the outskirts of Mahishmati, moving away from the palace toward the quiet solitude of a nearby temple.

Once they arrived, Nandhini dismounted, breathing in the cool air. 

Despite being heavily pregnant, Deva walked with her usual alertness, her fingers occasionally brushing over the hilt of the dagger strapped to her waist. After a while, Deva reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers, her thumb gently caressing Nandhini's knuckles.

"You did what you had to do," Deva murmured.

Nandhini let out a hollow laugh. "Did I?" she asked, tilting her head to the sky. 

Deva squeezed her hand but said nothing. Some burdens could only be carried alone.

At that moment, in the sacred stillness of the temple, Nandhini felt like she could finally breathe.

But the peace did not last.

The first sign of danger was the sound of footsteps—multiple, fast.

Devasena stiffened beside her, her grip tightening.

Nandhini turned sharply, scanning the shadows. 

"Stay behind me," Nandhini hissed, instinctively moving to shield Deva. However, the height difference attempt was nearly futile.

Deva scoffed, drawing her dagger. "I can fight, you know."

But before either of them could react, a sharp whistling sound sliced through the air.

An ambush.

"Deva, run!" she commanded, but a sudden, sharp pain struck the back of her head. Stars exploded in her vision, the world tilting violently as her knees buckled.

The last thing she heard was Deva's scream.

And then—

Darkness.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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This is where my lore started

[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - VIII | HIS NIYATI

MASTERLIST

previous | next

And I waited for him all night only to finally fall asleep as sleep overtook me; my dream consisted of him and his lips, the one that married me, which I never thought would be mine.

I woke up to the warmth filling me as I snuggled. My sleep slowly left me as I felt small kisses on my exposed shoulder, neck, and jaw, capturing my lips. I found myself leaning as I felt my body heating up. I opened my eyes to find Bhalla drinking my moans as his lips captured mine.

I kept my lips closed to see how far he went, but he found my tactics and brushed his thump slightly at my clothed nipple, making me gasp, and just like that, his tongue found the walls of the mouth. 

I am not sure how long we fought for dominance, but I had to let go to breathe air, which I forgot. He placed his forehead on me, and my sleep left me entirely. 

My eyes searched his as he looked tired, probably not sleeping.

"When did you come back?" my morning voice husked because of the cold. 

The only thing separating me and him is my loosely covered saree in my chest; I was too lazy to tie my saree again and too turned on to get up. 

"Just like 30 minutes before, " he replied, kissing all over my chest. 

"Why didn't you wake me up?" I felt like I had already descended to heaven. 

He sighed as he smiled at me. His thumbs traced my lips. What's the obsession with this boy's thumb and my lips? 

His action made my cheeks burn. "You looked so peaceful in your sleep. But..." His voice lowered, sending shivers down my spine. "I can only control myself for so long."

"is everything ok?" I asked as concern filled me. 

I tried to think what might have happened, but the film only showed bits and pieces. Now I have married him, I am unsure if the event has changed. 

"It seems we have a new threat in the Mahismati borders. The son of Kalakeyas chief Inkoshi seems to be looking for a new attack." I lost the words.

"Will there be war?" I asked softly, my fingers tracing the sharp angles of his face. I am sorry I might have had different thoughts about marrying him, but he's still hot, and I am his wife. 

He took my hand, pressing gentle kisses to my fingertips, one by one, to reassure me. "Perhaps," he admitted. "But don't worry. We've faced them before, and we will triumph again."

God, how did I end up with someone so devastatingly irresistible?

As I shifted to get up and start the day, Bhalla's strong hand wrapped around my wrist, gently pulling me back down to the bed.

"I'm not done with you yet," he murmured, his voice low and laced with a mix of desire and authority.

I turned to look at him, my heart racing in anticipation. His dark and piercing eyes locked with mine, holding me in place as though he could see every thought that crossed my mind.

"The King of Mahishmati always finishes what he starts," he whispered.

And boy, he did finish. 

***

As the day continued, Baahu and Deva came to say goodbye. 

My eyes teared as I watched them go, even after asking them to stay.

"No, we can't. It's the King's order, and we should follow it," Baahu replied, patting my head. Deva looked sad as well. I knew she didn't want to go, but orders were orders.

Kattapa stood beside me and gently led me back inside.

I sighed and walked faster. "Where is the king?" I asked. 

Kattapa replied, "He is discussing the defence and attack plans with the ministers in his chambers. I'll join them shortly."

For a fraction of a second, I considered barging into the meeting. I wanted—no, I needed—to talk to him, but I stopped myself, biting my lip. I didn't want to make a scene in front of the ministers, nor did I want our private matters exposed for others to witness.

So I waited.

Dinner came and went, untouched by me. My restlessness grew as I paced back and forth, my heart heavy with worry and longing.

And then he came.

His lips curved into a soft smile bloom as his eyes found mine. He lit up the room in a way only he could. Without hesitation, he crossed the space between us and hugged me tightly.

But I stood there, not going to let his hot and handsome body manipulate me this time.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice soothing, as he leaned in to kiss me.

But I kept my face emotionless, pulling back slightly.

"What happened?" he asked, concern evident in his tone as his eyes searched mine.

"Baahu and Deva left," I whispered, my voice betraying my sorrow.

His face turned stern, a slight frown forming. "Yes, and what about that? The wedding is over," he replied matter-of-factly, sitting on the bed and pulling me onto his lap.

"I miss them," I admitted softly, my fingers gripping the fabric of his robe. "I hoped they would stay longer."

"You miss them?" he asked, a teasing lilt. "Remember, you only asked for one day with them."

I nodded reluctantly, knowing he was right. But still, the ache in my heart remained.

"But don't you think," I ventured carefully, "now that Mahishmati is under threat, Baahu would be helpful if he stayed here?"

His grip on me tightened slightly, and his eyes darkened as they bore into mine.

"Why?" he asked, his voice low and sharp.

"Because Baahu is strong," I said, choosing my words carefully. "He's a skilled warrior; having him here would strengthen our defences."

For a moment, there was silence. His expression was unreadable, a mix of contemplation and something I couldn't quite place.

Bhalla's grip on my waist tightened as his eyes darkened, jealousy flickering like a wildfire ready to consume everything in its path.

"Let me make something very clear," he began, his voice low and firm.

I tilted my head, searching his face. "Bhalla—"

He held up a hand, silencing me. "Baahu may be strong. He may be skilled. But this kingdom doesn't need him." 

His eyes bored into mine as though daring me to challenge him. "I am the King. I am the protector of Mahishmati and no one else."

The room felt colder, the air heavier. I placed my hand on his cheek, trying to bring him back to me to soothe the tempest brewing inside him. "Bhalla, I wasn't questioning you. I know your strength."

He exhaled sharply, his jaw softening just a fraction as he leaned into my touch. "Then why bring him up?"

"Because I care for you," I whispered, barely audible. "You carry so much on your shoulders, Bhalla. Having Baahu here might help ease the burden, not replace you."

His gaze softened, but jealousy still lingered in his eyes. "I don't need or want him here," he said firmly. 

"Baahu's presence is a distraction. He undermines my authority, whether intentionally or not."

I nodded, choosing my following words carefully. "I trust you, Bhalla."

For a moment, he said nothing, just staring at me with an unreadable expression. Then, he pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "You're mine," he said, his voice rough but filled with an unexpected tenderness. "Only mine. Remember that."

"I'm yours," I replied softly, letting the tension dissolve as I leaned into him.

He sighed, the weight of his emotions still present in the air around us, but he seemed calmer now. 

"Come," he said, his tone lighter after a moment, though his grip on me didn't loosen. "It's been a long day. I want to hold you tonight."

I allowed him to guide me to the bed. As he wrapped his arms around me, I hoped the darkness looming inside him would find light in our shared warmth.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Happy new Year ❤️✨✨✨

[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - VII | HIS NIYATI

MASTERLIST

previous | next

When the wedding day arrived, my heart pounded so furiously that it felt like it might leap out of my chest. I had pestered Bhalla all week about when Baahu and Deva would arrive, and his vague responses had only added to my growing anxiety.

Yesterday, the people of Kuntala arrived—Kumar, Jayasena, and Devasena's sister-in-law. Seeing them again had been both a comfort and a dagger. Especially Kumar, whose piercing gaze practically shot daggers at Bhalla when they crossed paths.

Last night, I had the opportunity to meet with them. It was a brief but heartfelt conversation with the people who treated me as their own. They deserved to know at least some of what I had planned. But I had to tread cautiously.

Kumar, as expected, was not having it. "Are you being blackmailed? Forced into this?" he demanded, his voice low but firm, his eyes full of fire. 

"If you are, just say the word. We'll take you away from here. Mahishmati be damned."

I shook my head. "You can't. Even if you did, Mahishmati is bigger and stronger. Any rebellion against it would only bring suffering to Kuntala. The people would struggle, and the kingdom would fall. I can't let that happen."

Jayasena, who had remained quiet, finally spoke, his voice heavy with concern. "Why are you doing this, my dear? You're not someone who values material possessions over the well-being of people. We're genuinely worried for you."

Kumar nodded in agreement, his expression a mix of frustration and worry.

"This is my fate," I replied softly. "But it's not without purpose. Baahu and Deva will be here for the wedding, and I see that as a small victory."

"Victory?" Kumar asked, his brow furrowing. "How is this a win?"

"Bhalla accepted my choice to have them attend. That alone is a crack in his resolve. If I can make this happen, then in time, we can bring Baahu and Deva back to Mahishmati for good. Not just as guests, but to see them rightfully crowned."

Kumar's expression shifted, the slightest hint of a smile forming. "You have a sharp strategy," he said approvingly.

Devasena's sister-in-law, however, was still uneasy. "Even if you're confident in this plan, Bhalla can be dangerous. What if something happens to you?"

I gave her a sad smile. "I'll take care of it. Whatever comes, I'll handle it. But you must promise me that this stays between us. Baahu and Deva cannot know about any of this."

The group exchanged glances before nodding in agreement.

***

As I sat there, my body washed clean with milk and rose petals, my hair massaged with fragrant oils, and my skin wrapped in the finest silk, I closed my eyes and let the moment's weight settle over me. The scent of roses and sandalwood filled the air, and my hair was adorned with jewels and flowers. I never imagined my wedding would be like this—away from the people I love, marrying someone I never thought I would, a man I once saw as a villain.

My thoughts were interrupted by a soft touch on my shoulder. I gasped and opened my eyes, only to see a reflection in the mirror that I hadn't expected.

Devasena.

Her face radiated grace, love, and strength. Her sharp, queenly eyes softened with warmth as she smiled. I turned around in disbelief and threw myself into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"Oh, Deva, I missed you so much," I whispered, my voice breaking as tears filled my eyes.

She chuckled softly, her own eyes glistening as she cupped my cheeks. Her touch was gentle and comforting, yet it carried the weight of all she had endured.

I stepped back to take her in, noticing her simple attire. She wore an old, plain sari without jewels, yet her pregnancy glow outshone any ornament. She looked content, but this only made my heart ache more.

I turned and removed the other helpers and people inside the chamber, as I only needed my Deva with me.

"Why are you still wearing this old sari? Let me give you something new—something beautiful," I pleaded.

Devasena shook her head and smiled. "This is my life now. I live as my husband does and endure as he endures."

Her words struck a deep chord, and my lips trembled as fresh tears spilt. Baahu and Deva deserved so much more than this.

"Now," she said gently, brushing my tears away, "today is not about me. Let's focus on you."

Deva moved quickly, selecting the finest jewels from the piles before us. She then adorned me piece by piece, lining my eyes with kajal and dabbing behind my ear to ward off the evil eye.

I kept waiting for her to ask questions, to scold me or express anger. But she didn't. She just smiled—a serene, knowing smile.

"Aren't you mad at me?" I whispered hesitantly, lowering my eyes, ashamed to meet hers.

Her hands were warm and steady as they lifted my chin, forcing me to look into her eyes. They glistened with tears but were full of understanding.

"Mad? At you?" she whispered. "Are you crazy?"

She placed the mang tikka delicately on my forehead and continued, "How could I be mad at my sister for marrying and becoming queen?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "But you're the one who's supposed to be queen, and Baahu should be king—not Bhalla."

Devasena chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Baahubali is king wherever he is, and my life is happiest. And you, my dear, are destined for much more than you realize. I could never be mad at you."

Her words enveloped me like a warm embrace, but then her gaze turned sharp, piercing into my soul. "All I want to know is this: are you happy? Are you doing this willingly?"

Her question hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. I felt the weight of her concern and love and knew I couldn't hide the truth from her.

I couldn't spill everything out—not here, not now. Maybe later. I just nodded, looking as shy and demure as possible. But I could see it in Deva's eyes—she didn't fully buy it. Still, she said nothing, simply focusing on helping me get ready.

My breath hitched when she finished and led me out of the chamber. Standing just outside was a figure with such a commanding, strong presence that I felt a familiar pull in my chest.

Baahubali.

Even in his worn, simple cotton dhoti, with a shawl draped loosely over his broad shoulders, he looked like the king he was born to be. His smile widened as our eyes met.

"Baahu," I whispered, running to him and wrapping my arms around his strong frame. He hugged me back, his hand gently patting my back and his lips pressing a warm kiss to my forehead. His affection was like that of a father to his daughter—a pure love made my heart ache.

"Well," he said, his voice rich with warmth, "we couldn't let you get married without giving you a gift."

He pulled out a small bundle wrapped in a cotton cloth and carefully unwrapped it. Inside was a delicate gold chain, more like a bracelet.

"I found this in the market," he said, his smile softening, "and I hope it will be your good luck charm."

He gently tied it around my wrist. Tears spilt from my eyes as I looked at the two of them—Baahu and Deva—two people so pure, so kind, who deserved so much more than the life they had been given.

As we made our way to the wedding arena, I held on to Deva and Baahu's hands like lifelines. The moment's weight pressed on my chest, making breathing hard. My heart pounded so fiercely that I feared I might drop dead then and there. Part of me even wished I would.

Bhalla stood at the centre of the grand stage, his piercing eyes fixed on us as we approached. I could feel the tension in the air—his anger towards Baahu and Deva was palpable. But then, his gaze shifted to me, and something changed.

In his eyes, I saw more than just anger. A softness, a longing, a quiet vulnerability made my steps falter. He looked at me as though I were the only person in the world, as though I were his salvation.

And just like that, it happened.

The rituals unfolded in a blur, the priests' chants echoing through the arena. Bhalla tied the three sacred knots around my neck, sealing our union as flower petals rained from above. The trumpets of elephants sounded in celebration, and the crowd's cheers filled the air.

A simple girl from the 21st century had just married one of the most infamous villains she had once watched on her screen.

And in that moment, as the world celebrated, I couldn't tell if I was stepping into a dream or a nightmare.

***

My body shuddered with nervousness as they finished preparing me for my wedding night with the King of Mahishmati. My stomach churned, and I felt like I might vomit.

I clung to Deva's hand as she prepared to leave me alone in the elaborately decorated chamber. I had settled stiffly on the bed, but my heart raced, my palms clammy.

"Please, don't leave me," I whimpered, holding her hand tightly, desperate for her comfort.

A soft chuckle left her lips as she knelt beside me, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face.

"What's the matter? It's your wedding night. It's supposed to be the start of your union with your husband," she teased gently, though her eyes softened with concern.

I swallowed hard but was not scared, but it's just that I had never gone that far with any guy as much as I could see them as tough and acted like I had done it; I never did.

I tried to hold her back and tried to find an excuse. "But I want to spend more time with you," I said quickly. "You'll be leaving tomorrow, and..."

She chuckled again. "You'll be fine, my dear. Trust yourself," she said before rising to her feet and leaving me there. 

I sighed, stood up, and walked to the balcony to get some air. The cool night breeze kissed my skin as I looked at the glowing moon.

The reality of it all hit me like a wave. I couldn't believe it—I was married. Married to Bhalla, the King of Mahishmati, a man I once thought of as nothing more than a character on a screen.

My fingers tightened around the balcony railing as I tried to calm my breathing. The thought of what lay ahead made my heart race even faster.

I closed my eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over me. Its gentle touch was a comfort against the storm of nerves swirling inside me. I exhaled slowly, willing myself to relax and find some calm in the chaos of my thoughts.

But then, I felt it—a soft hand clasping the exposed skin of my waist. My breath hitched as I was gently pulled back against a broad chest, the heat of his body seeping into mine. The scent, the presence, the familiarity—I knew exactly who it was.

Bhalla.

His breath fanned my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. My heart raced as his lips brushed against my temple, trailing downward to bite the curve of my ear softly. A gasp escaped my lips, my body betraying my attempt to remain composed.

His hand slid upward, lightly clasping my neck. His touch was firm but not harsh, his fingers tracing a path from the column of my throat to the edge of my jaw. He tilted my face slightly, his thumb brushing over my lips. I felt the pressure as he parted them gently, his intent clear in how his touch lingered.

I couldn't breathe or think—my body frozen between uncertainty and the undeniable pull of his presence.

"Finally, after all these years, you had no idea how much I waited for this day," he murmured, his voice thick with longing. His lips travelled down my neck, pressing fervent kisses against my skin. Each touch left a trail of fire, and I couldn't help but shudder under his intensity.

I scrunched my eyes shut, his words echoing in my mind. He waited for me? For years?

The thought barely had time to form before his lips found mine, silencing any questions I might have had. His kiss was fervent and consuming, and I felt the weight of his emotions pour into me. My fingers instinctively tangled into his thick hair, holding onto him like he might disappear if I let go.

The world around us seemed to fade, leaving only the sound of our breaths and the heat of his touch.

I wasn't sure how we moved from the balcony to the bed, but every thought dissolved under the haze of his touch. My body, my senses—everything could only remember the way his lips travelled over me, from my own to my neck, then lower, leaving a trail of fire and possession.

The chamber filled with the melody of my moans and whimpers, a symphony that seemed to match the rhythm of his hands and mouth. His lips lingered, branding me with marks of his claim as though he wanted the world to know I belonged to him.

His hands skillfully worked at removing my saree, the fabric slipping away and leaving me half-exposed. A shiver ran through me as the cool night air contrasted with the heat in his eyes, which never left mine. His gaze showed a raw intensity, making me bite my lip in nervousness and anticipation.

God, I shouldn't be doing this, my mind screamed. But then a louder thought overpowered it, reminding me—he is my husband.

Slowly, his fingers worked to untie the knots of my blouse behind my back, the fabric loosening and slipping away, leaving me bare. Instinctively, I crossed my arms over my chest, shielding myself from his gaze.

But, ever so gentle in that moment, Bhalla smiled—a smile that softened the edges of his otherwise commanding demeanour. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a firm yet tender embrace. His lips brushed against my ear as he whispered sweet nothings, each word a balm to my racing heart.

"It's me," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "You don't have to be shy or scared. I am yours as much as you are mine."

With those words, his hands found mine, gently guiding them away from their defensive position. My heart thundered as our chests met, the warmth of his skin melding with mine. At that moment, I felt a strange mix of vulnerability and comfort, as though his presence alone could shield me from the world.

His lips moved almost reverently as though he were following an invisible map etched across my skin. Each kiss sent waves of sensation through me, his touch igniting parts of me I didn't know could feel so alive.

When his lips reached my chest, I gasped, the stars behind my closed eyes bursting into constellations. His mouth left a trail of warmth, his every movement deliberate and worshipful. My fingers found their way into his thick curls, clutching them like my anchor to reality. I tugged gently, eliciting a low hum from him that sent shivers through me.

As his lips travelled lower, tracing their way to my navel, I could do nothing but whimper, my breaths shallow and uneven. My heart pounded wildly as I dared to lower my gaze, only to meet his piercing eyes—intense, full of unspoken promises and burning desire. The way he looked at me, even in this most vulnerable moment, made me feel seen in a way that was almost too much to bear. Yet, I couldn't look away.

I was utterly his, and he made sure I knew it.

His hands traced my knees and slowly higher as they caressed my thighs, making me force my thighs together; just as his hands claimed higher and my moan raised, a loud calling of Bhalla's name made both of us gasp.

Bhalla's hands froze mid-motion, and I felt the air in the room shift. For a moment, neither of us moved, our chests heaving as we tried to process the interruption.

His brows furrowed, irritation flashing across his face, but his expression softened as he turned back to me. Though his frustration was evident, I could see the unspoken apology in his eyes.

"Well, just my luck," I muttered under my breath, unable to hide the mix of disappointment and embarrassment that tinged my voice.

Bhalla sighed deeply, brushing a hand through his thick curls before leaning forward to kiss my forehead. "Stay here," he murmured.

Alone in the chamber, I clutched the sheets tightly around me, my mind racing and my body still humming with the remnants of his touch.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Next part of his niyati please?

just posted!!!

[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - VI | HIS NIYATI

MASTERLIST

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven

"What the hell were you thinking, Bhalla?" Bijjaladeva's voice thundered through the room; his frustration was evident. His expression was confused and rage, as though he no longer recognized the son standing before him. Perhaps he didn't—not after what had spoken.

Why? The answer was simple: me.

I stood silently, my eyes shifting between father and son, but my mind was elsewhere. It spun back to yesterday's events, back to when Bhalla's lips had been on mine, claiming them with an intensity that left me breathless. His touch had been firm yet soft, his arms exploring every curve as if he had memorized the map of my body in a way that defied reason.

I had tried to keep my wits about me, tried to suppress the shivers of pleasure that coursed through me as his lips found the sensitive dip of my neck. When his teeth grazed the skin there, a gasp escaped me, followed by a moan I barely managed to stifle. My body betrayed me, responding to him even as my mind screamed for me to pull away.

I couldn't let this go on as I whispered, "Can I ask you something?" though the words sounded hollow against the storm of sensations he was making me feel.

He paused, his thumb gently brushing against my swollen lips, his gaze heavy with desire as it locked onto mine. "Anything," he murmured, his voice a husky promise as he leaned in to press another kiss to my neck, trailing heat down to my chest.

"It's about the wedding," I managed to say, though my words came out breathless as his hands slid around my waist. He pulled me closer, and before I knew it, I was straddling him, his firm grip holding me steady.

How did I end up like this?

Oh, I knew. The kiss I had foolishly allowed had quickly spiralled into this—a fevered entanglement that seemed intent on searing itself into my memory. His hands, his lips, every touch felt like a brand, leaving traces I wasn't sure I could erase. My heart and body were traitors, swooning under his attention, even as my mind begged me to resist.

"Anything you ask is an order", he echoed, his voice tinged with urgency. His lips found mine again, capturing them in a kiss so consuming that I felt myself unravel.

I had to push through and stop this before I lost myself completely. I pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss despite his protests.

"You're killing me," he whispered, his breath ragged as his forehead rested against mine. His fingers traced my jaw with tenderness, cupping it like I might disappear.

I almost forgot what I was about to say for a moment. Almost.

"It's just... I want the people from Kuntala to attend the wedding," I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. His intense gaze never lowered, sending shivers down my spine as I continued, "And I want Baahu and Deva to be back for the wedding." There. I said it.

The moment the words left my lips, regret washed over me—not entirely, but enough to make me second-guess my timing. Perhaps I should have waited, had more control over the situation, or, honestly, over myself. But it was too late now.

Bhalla froze, his expression unreadable, before something dark and fiery flickered in his eyes. Was it anger? Desire? Or both? It was hard to tell, especially when we were still so intimately entwined, his touch lingering on my skin, the scent of our heated exchange still thick in the air.

I couldn't help but wonder: Was the fire in his eyes born from the intimacy we'd just shared, or had my lips uttering Baahubali's name in this vulnerable moment ignited something else entirely? A dangerous line had been crossed, and I wasn't sure which side I was standing on—or if I was even safe anymore.

"Baahu and Deva?" he finally said, his voice low and deceptively calm, though there was an unmistakable edge. His thumb brushed against my lips again, his touch lingering as if testing me, waiting for me to respond.

I nodded, my throat dry. "Yes. For the wedding."

His lips curled into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You make bold requests, little flower," he said, his voice whispered yet carrying something dangerous. His hands tightened slightly on my waist, pulling me closer. "Do you think I'll give you everything you ask for so easily?"

I swallowed hard, but I refused to back down. "It's important to me," I whispered, though my voice shivered. "Please."

His expression shifted—just for a moment—as if he were weighing my words, my resolve against whatever storm was brewing in his mind. Then, leaning in, his lips grazed the shell of my ear, and his voice dropped to a chilling whisper.

"Careful, my good girl. You're playing with fire."

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt his words' promise and warning. And yet, even as fear flickered in the back of my mind, I couldn't bring myself to look away from him.

He was sorely mistaken if he thought I would back down so easily. Yes, Bhalla was scorching hot, his whispers igniting sensations I couldn't ignore, but my mind remained stronger. I needed Baahu and Deva back—no matter what it took.

I pulled away from him, slipping off his lap as he tried to capture my lips again. Not this time. If he was the fire, then I was the oil, and I knew just how much to add to make it blaze or extinguish it completely.

"Hmm, is that your final decision?" I asked, meeting his smouldering gaze head-on. His smirk widened, lazy and confident, as he leaned back against the headboard, folding his arms behind his head. The movement accentuated his triceps and abs, blatantly displaying his physical power. I quickly averted my eyes, refusing to let him distract me.

Standing tall, I tilted my chin up. "Then I think you're not very serious about this marriage," I said, calm but deliberate. I watched his expression shift; his smirk vanished just slightly as my words hit their mark.

Before he could respond, I pressed on, my tone sharper. "You call me your queen, but what's the point if I can't even have a say in something that matters to me? If my words mean nothing to you, then maybe this..." I gestured vaguely between us, "...has no meaning either."

He shot up from the bed so quickly that it startled me. His presence towered as he closed the distance between us. Firm yet surprisingly gentle, his hands cupped my face, forcing me to meet his fiery gaze. His lips curved into a dangerous smirk that sent me shivers of fear and something darker through me.

"My love," he whispered, his voice low and intoxicating, "you are my queen. But don't forget—I am the King." His thumb brushed against my cheek, his grip tightening slightly as his tone hardened. "And we cannot overturn the decisions of the throne so easily. Baahubali left by the orders of the Queen Mother—my mother. Do you think even I can defy her wishes without consequence?"

His words sent a chill down my spine, but I refused to waver. "If you are truly the King," I said softly but firmly, "then act like one."

***

They say even the strongest men fall prey to the love they feel, and in Bhalla's case, that couldn't have been truer. Hours of my relentless stubbornness finally wore him down, but not without a condition—Baahu and Deva could attend the wedding but would have to leave immediately after.

It wasn't ideal, but I took it. After all, it was a start where I had managed to bring Bhalla, the great villain, to his knees. To see him trying to bribe me with gifts and lavish jewellery in exchange for dropping my demand was a sight I'd never forget.

But victory came when he finally gave in and promised to speak to the Queen Mother and his father. My heart fluttered with victory, and I decided to reward him. Leaning forward, I kissed his lips—not full-on, but enough to make sure my lips lingered, caressing his, teasing him just enough to set the fire ablaze.

When I felt him trying to deepen the kiss, his hands reaching to pull me closer, I pulled back, smirking. This time, I was playing the cards.

"Should leave something for after the wedding," I whispered, my voice low and coy, before stepping away. His expression was priceless—dumbstruck, frustrated, and burning with a need I wasn't ready to quench yet.

I didn't look back as I vanished into the gardens, but I let out a shaky breath when I was out of sight. My legs gave way, and I sank onto a nearby bench, my cheeks flaming.

Oh, my gods. I did it. I did it.

The memory of his stunned face brought a small, victorious smile to my lips, though my heart still raced in disbelief. Somehow, I had managed to outwit Bhalla—and I was beginning to realize how dangerous this game of hearts could become.

And that's how Bhalla ended up being grilled by his father, Bijjaladeva, while Sivagami loomed nearby, her gaze sharp and unyielding like a hawk. The tension in the room was palpable as I stood quietly to the side, my expression crafted into perfect innocence—like the good girl Bhalla so often called me. Good girls, though, know how to play bad when it counts.

"Stop!" Sivagami's commanding voice echoed through the chamber, instantly silencing the argument. She stepped closer to Bhalla, her sharp eyes analyzing him before flicking toward me, burning with intensity. "I am not sure how you made this decision," she said, her voice dangerously calm, "but I hope you've thought it through. After all, it's my future daughter-in-law's wish, and I want it to come true."

Her words left me stunned. Did I earn Sivagami's approval—or was this some calculated move of hers? She turned and walked away, leaving behind a fuming Bijjaladeva. His glare felt like a dagger aimed straight at me, anger and disdain practically radiating from him. If looks could kill, I'd already be six feet under.

But I held firm. Rolling my eyes inwardly, I kept the same broad, innocent puppy-dog eyes fixed in place while sensing Bhalla's gaze softening as it settled on me. His expression shifted, melting from irritation to adoration. My heart strengthened—this man was wrapped around my finger, and I intended to use it to my full advantage.

Without a word, Bhalla took my hand and led me away from the cold atmosphere of the council chamber to my room's privacy. There, he gently laid me down on the bed, his eyes warm and protective as he brushed strands of hair from my face.

"You're my queen," he murmured, his hand caressing my hair. Leaning down, he pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. His touch was gentle, his devotion clear.

As he stayed with me until I drifted into sleep, I couldn't help but smirk inwardly. It's a good thing Bhalla either loves me—or is utterly obsessed with me. Because I'll need every ounce of that obsession to ensure my plans become reality.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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[nidhi-writes]

hey llong back u had posted aval a ponniyan selvan oneshot snippet can u please ppost the whole oneshot

Hi,

It's available in below link...you can find all my one-shots in my master list section for future reference..😊😊😊❤️

[nidhi-writes]

Ok, my next would be Dilli and his love for Viji..

Suddenly, my brain cooked up to wanting to read about Dilli's past love ...😊💜💜

[nidhi-writes]

Is it too early to ask for the next part of HN?😅

Well, you asked. I delivered!! 😊😊😊