Ch4The Bond of Fire #3
The girl chosen for Rudraksh... maybe her destiny can finally break the curse that haunts our bloodline.
As the Mahaguru said our dynasty will find its salvation only in the hundredth generation.
If the right girl weds Rudraksh, the curse will end.
But if the match is wrong, Rudraksh's life will be in danger.
For ten years, I have searched for a horoscope that aligns with his. And now, I have found it in Alisha Bedi, Naresh Bedi's younger daughter. Her kundali matches his... and I pray this is the key.
I want nothing but my son's safety, Shikha. Even if the price must be someone else's life... I cannot let fate take Rudraksh away from me."
Night had fallen.
Rivanya stood quietly on the terrace of her house, her gaze fixed on the glittering stars scattered across the velvet sky.
Tonight, her heart felt heavier than usual.
The cruel words of Samita and the poisonous taunts of Alisha still echoed inside her, unsettling her to the core.
She hadn't even touched her dinner, nor had she spoken much to her Nanu and Nani on the phone.
She knew-one extra word, one tiny slip in her voice, and her Nanu would read her pain, forcing her to return home.
And tonight, she did not want to break in front of them.
Instead, she let her mind wander to the past, to wounds that were not yet healed.
Two years ago, when Rivanya completed her law degree, Samita had poisoned Naresh Bedi's ears with lies, claiming Rivanya was involved with some boy in an "inappropriate" relationship.
A baseless accusation-fabricated with cruelty, presented with malice.
But Naresh had believed her. That day, he had even raised his hand on his daughter...
until her Nanu stopped him, shielding her.
After that, life became unbearable. For two years in Kashi, her father ensured no law college would admit her and no law firm would offer her work.
The doors of her dreams were slammed shut one after another.
Not because she lacked talent, not because she lacked merit-but because her father, blinded by Samita's venom, had clipped her wings.
It wasn't as if her Nanu and Mamu lacked influence. They were among the most respected families in Kashi, well-known and powerful enough to fight for her. But Rivanya had stopped them. She had wanted to see-just how far her father could fall, how blind his trust in another woman could be.
And then, after two long years, truth had finally knocked on Naresh's conscience. He had realized that his wife had filled his mind with lies, and that there was no blemish, no stain, on Rivanya's character.
Even so, Rivanya had never forgotten those years of suffocation.
She respected her father only because his name was tied to hers-Bedi.
Like it or not, she bore that name, carried that blood.
He was her father-the man who had brought her into this world.
For that alone, she chose silence. For that alone, she endured Samita's slanders without striking back.
She would never disrespect the man whose very existence gave her life...
no matter how much he failed to stand by her.
And so, under the starry night sky, Rivanya swallowed her pain once more, her silence becoming her shield.
Rivanya's Thoughts
"I wonder which poor soul's destiny is about to shatter the day Alisha marries him... What was his name again? Ah yes, Rudraksh Vardhan... Poor man."
She chuckled faintly at the thought, unaware that somewhere far away, her casual remark had already brushed against the man's soul.
Meanwhile, Vardhanpur
Rudraksh stood before the ancient Shivling, hands folded in prayer.
A sudden shiver passed through him-he could have sworn he heard someone whisper his name.
His eyes snapped open, scanning the temple shadows behind him.
No one. The silence pressed in heavy, yet deep inside, it felt as though a distant voice had called to him... straight into his heart.
Normally, Rudraksh's temper was already quick to ignite. But tonight-on the eve of his unwanted marriage-his rage had climbed to the seventh sky. The fire inside him demanded release, and he was ready to turn that fury into penance.
He turned sharply to a waiting servant.
"Are all the preparations complete?" His voice was a dangerous calm, the kind that made men tremble.
The servant bowed low, stammering, "Y-Yes, Kuwar Sa. Everything is arranged... exactly as you ordered."
Rudraksh gave a single nod. "Ekaant. Leave me alone."
Without hesitation, every servant scurried out, leaving him in complete silence.
Rudraksh stepped forward, his palms pressed together, his eyes fixed on the Shivling. In front of him, hot burning embers stretched out like a carpet of fire. The flames hissed and crackled, daring him to step in.
He closed his eyes, drew in a breath, and when the ancient Shiv Tandav chant filled the air, he stepped barefoot onto the glowing embers.
The fire burned his skin, but Rudraksh did not flinch. His chest expanded with the rhythm of the drums, his powerful frame moving in sync with the primal beats. Sweat already trickled down his temples, glistening over the sharp cut of his jaw.
Then, he began
His bare torso flexed with every violent strike of his foot, each stomp on the fire scattering sparks into the air.
His broad shoulders rolled, muscles rippling like coiled steel beneath his golden-brown skin.
Veins bulged along his arms as they rose and fell with fierce precision.
His abs hard ridges carved like stone shone under the torchlight, glistening with sweat that rolled down in rivulets, dripping onto the flames below.
Rudraksh was a storm.
The fury in his grey-black eyes burned hotter than the embers at his feet. His wild, damp hair clung to his forehead as his movements grew more violent, more desperate each strike of his foot both a prayer and a punishment.
Half an hour passed. Still he did not stop. The fire licked at his ankles, his skin bore burns, yet he only moved harder, faster. His chest heaved, each breath ragged, lips parting as he exhaled like a caged beast.
Every line of his body glowed with raw, dangerous masculinity the curve of his shoulders, the flex of his thighs, the power of his stance. Sweat drenched him, dripping down his sculpted waist, making every cut of his muscles gleam like molten bronze.
He was beautiful in his destruction.
A man burning, dancing, surrendering himself to both rage and divinity.
And in that moment, Rudraksh was not merely performing a tandav on fire.
He was the fire.
Rudraksh only stopped when his Choti Dadi Maa cried out his name and rushed forward to drag him away from the fire.
By then, his feet were torn and bleeding, the skin blistered from the merciless flames.
Yet, not a single flicker of pain crossed his face.
His jaw was clenched, his eyes still blazing with a storm that refused to be tamed.
He looked less like a man in agony and more like a warrior who had embraced the fire as his own.
At the very same time, miles away...
Rivanya gasped sharply as an unbearable burn shot through her foot. It was as if invisible flames had licked her skin, leaving her breathless. She stumbled back, clutching the terrace railing for support, her eyes widening in confusion.
Hastily, she dipped her foot into a bowl of ice water she had fetched, sighing in relief as the searing pain eased slightly. But her heart raced.
"Hey Gauri Maa... what is happening to me?" she whispered, staring at her foot as though it held answers.
"Why does it feel as though fire itself touched me? Did I accidentally step on chilies the way Nanu once said I did as a child? But no... I remember clearly there was nothing beneath my foot tonight. Then why... why does it burn as if flames are consuming me?"
Her voice trembled, her eyes searching the night sky filled with stars.
"Hey Gauri Maa... yeh aag mere andar se kyu uth rahi hai?"
It was fate's own design Rudraksh's blazing anger had somehow ignited the flames of Rivanya's restlessness. Long before either of them realized it, destiny and divine will had already begun weaving their souls together.
The wounds in Rudraksh's heart those deep, unending scars waited only for the healing touch of someone named Rivanya.
Who could ever know what the wishes of Lord Shiva and Maa Parvati were?
On one hand, Rudraksh's fate was seemingly entwined with Alisha's name, a path laid by societal and familial ties.
Yet, on the other hand, his pain his anger, his fire was being silently felt by Rivanya, binding their souls in a way neither could yet comprehend.
Fate, it seemed, was playing a game only the divine could understand, pulling the two of them closer even as the world tried to keep them apart.