Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
A week later, they all took a night off from Operation Starbreak. Yasen and Vikas, along with his friends whom Zarya had also helped free, had been assisting with clean-up and hauling in furniture and supplies. They were finally ready to begin receiving vanshaj.
Yasen and the others had decided to enjoy a few rounds of cards at the gambling den where they met while Zarya took the opportunity to finally curl up with the book Row had sent about paramadhar.
It had been almost a month since she’d last seen Rabin, and it bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Maybe she’d finally convinced him to keep his distance, and she hated when the thought caused a wave of disappointment.
Or maybe he was just waiting for her.
The book claimed she would need to enter the mind plane, and the easiest way to do so was to think of a place and imagine it as clearly as possible. It helped if it was somewhere that was important or had made her feel joy.
For some reason, the ballroom at the Ravana estate, where she’d danced all night long, had been the first place to pop into her mind.
She put the book down and imagined the resplendent room—the golden chandeliers, the marble floors, the walls covered in ornate green silk. Everything had been so new and wondrous that night. She could still hear the music and the laughter as people danced, twirling in circles.
It had been one of the most magical moments of her life, and it was his home. She wondered what Rabin would think. Did he have any happy memories of the place where he experienced so much pain?
The book said you could also create almost anything, including clothing and objects, explaining how Rabin had conjured the rug to protect her feet from the snow.
She imagined herself in a light but beautifully decorated lehenga, the silver beading sparkling in her mind. And then she pictured herself stepping from this room into the mind plane. Since she was the masatara, her paramadhar couldn’t refuse the summons. She could, however, refuse his if she chose, though that also required practice. It was harder to do when she was asleep, and so far, it was clear he’d used that fact to his advantage.
But it was late and she did hope she wasn’t pulling him from a precarious situation.
Standing with her hands balled into fists, she imagined every detail, trying to recall the smells and every sound. There was a shift, like a bend in the atmosphere, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself standing in the empty ballroom of the Ravanas’ home.
The soft music she’d fabricated played from some unknown source, and Rabin stood at the end of the room with his back facing her. There were no shadows where he could hide tonight. She’d selected his attire to coordinate with hers, opting for a sherwani of the deepest midnight blue embroidered with silver threads over the collar and wrists.
She waited as he slowly turned around, his eyebrow already arched.
He looked down at himself and then at her. “I see you’ve been doing some reading.”
Zarya said nothing, simply returning an imperious look of her own.
“Why here?” he asked as he scanned the room.
“I don’t know. It just came to me.”
He pressed his mouth together. “I had some happy times in this room,” he said softly.
“I’m glad. And I’m sorry. I worried that it would be painful, but it was the first place I thought of.”
The corner of his mouth teased up. “I also brought you to your father’s home. Perhaps this is only fair.”
“That wasn’t?—”
He lifted a hand. “I know that. I’m glad you’ve been to this house. This was once my home, despite the memories. Vikram and I were friends once.”
He uttered the last statement with such sadness, and it was clear how much he regretted their troubled relationship.
“Do you want to dance?” he asked, sweeping his hands over himself. “It seems a shame not to ask.”
“Sure,” Zarya said. She wasn’t positive that’s what she’d intended by choosing this place, but they were dressed up with music playing, and it was the next logical thing to do.
He walked towards her, his boots clicking against the marble. Zarya waited with her breath tight in her throat, trying not to be overwhelmed by his presence without much success. How could she ever feel anything less than ensnared by that dark, burning gaze?
When he was but a distant thought present only in her mind, she could pretend she wasn’t completely helpless under his spell, but witnessing him in the flesh, it was impossible to ignore.
He reached out his hand, and she looked at it for a moment.
“Do you remember the first time we ever spoke?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“Why do you think we met inside that egg of all places?” she asked, referring to the deadly shower of falling orbs when she’d broken her arm while picnicking with Vikram.
He shook his head. “I’m not sure if that’s where we were exactly, but I think whatever magic lived inside triggered our connection.”
“What do you mean?”
“Perhaps you haven’t read that far yet,” he said. “The connection needs a powerful activation to wake up, and we know there was strong magic in those orbs. That’s one reason why it’s so rare.”
“But we met before that,” she said. “Sort of.”
“Apparently, we could enter the mind plane at any point, but we couldn’t actually speak with one another until the link was initiated.”
Zarya took a step and then laid her hand on his. “I see.”
“Do you?” he asked. “Do you understand why this is destiny?”
She blew out a breath. “Let’s just dance.”
Without warning, he tugged her towards him, pressing her body to his. Then he wrapped an arm around her, his large hand splaying against her back. She shivered at his touch, a spark lighting up her skin. She didn’t want to react to him this way, but she was slowly learning that either she had to find a way to forgive and eventually trust him, or she might be miserable for the rest of her life.
He began to twirl them across the floor, just like the night they’d danced in the forest. They moved like smoke, in tune with one another. There was no doubt something connected them.
“Are you still angry with me?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered immediately, and he nodded.
“But you called me here.”
“I did.”
“Why?” He tipped his head in curiosity. “Did you miss me?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t. I just wanted to see how this thing worked.”
His answering chuckle was low and dark, clearly reading her lie.
“And now that you’ve practiced?” he asked.
“Then…” she started to say that that would be it, and he would never see her again, but that wasn’t the truth. Now that she understood how to do this, she’d be more tempted than ever to reach out. Maybe the only thing keeping her away had been her inability to find him.
“Zarya,” he said. “Please. Stop this.” He tightened his hold and brought her closer. “Talk to me. Let me show you I meant no harm.”
“How will you do that? I won’t come to Andhera.”
“Then meet with me. Let me see you in person. I don’t want to exist only in this space. This is not real.”
“Isn’t it?” she asked, though she knew what he meant. The visions were vivid and almost solid, but something distant kept them from becoming true reality. Like a layer of almost translucent glass coating everything and allowing light through but preventing it from touching what was underneath.
“You know it’s not,” he said, and she nodded.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Will you come for me?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ll fly across a thousand miles to find you.”
“I’m in Ishaan,” she said, the words slipping out of her mouth. She wasn’t sure if she’d meant to reveal this, but there it was. Again. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
“So close.”
“What now?” she asked.
“Wait for me,” he said, echoing the same words he’d said that night before he’d dropped into her life and changed everything. “I’m coming.”
And then the scene disappeared, and Zarya opened her eyes, sitting alone in her apartment.
Wait for me.
A breathless shiver of anticipation climbed over her scalp and spread through her limbs, warming her from the inside out.
He was coming.
Rabin returned to Abishek’s study where Zarya had pulled him from moments earlier. He stood by the fire where he’d been conversing with the king. He blinked as the world returned to focus.
Looking down at himself, he was almost surprised to find he was back in his regular black clothing.
“What happened?” Abishek asked. “You stopped talking.”
“For how long?”
“Only a moment, but your eyes grew distant.” The king sat forward. “Did you see her?”
“Yes,” Rabin said with a small half-smile as he propped his elbow up on the mantle. “She learned how to call me.”
“And why did she call you tonight?”
Rabin laughed to himself. “She said she just wanted to see how it worked.”
“But?” Abishek asked.
“But…I’m sure that’s partly true, but I also think she wanted to see me.” He looked at the king. “She told me she’s in Ishaan.”
The king leaned back, folding his hands over his stomach. “And what is she doing there?”
“If I know Zarya, it’s because she wants to meet her family.” Rabin’s gaze shifted to Abishek, who watched him carefully.
“Did you get the sense she had done so?”
Rabin shook his head. “I don’t know. We never discussed it.”
Abishek studied Rabin for a moment. “I see. And? Now, what will you do?”
Rabin stood straighter. “I would like to go and see her.”
The king nodded. “Then you should do that.”
Rabin pushed himself from his spot by the fire and dropped into the plush armchair next to Abishek. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he added, deciding it was time to come clean. “I haven’t been entirely forthright with you about Zarya.”
His brows rose in a question. “Yes?”
“My feelings for your daughter are not only that of the paramadhar bond.”
He fell silent, allowing his words to sink in. Several emotions crossed the king’s face that he couldn’t interpret. Would he be angry or welcome this?
“I see,” Abishek finally said. “And does she reciprocate these…feelings?”
Rabin shook his head. “I think she did, but then…”
“She thought you betrayed her.”
“Exactly.”
Abishek crossed a leg over the other and reclined in his seat. “Many years ago, paramadhar were far more common, and those who ventured into physical or romantic relationships typically went on to regret it.”
Rabin clenched his hands as he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his thighs, drinking in every word. “Why? The handbook cautioned against it, but it doesn’t really explain the reason.”
Abishek blew out a breath and picked up the drink on the side table. “Should you choose to perform the Bandhan, you will both be connected by powerful magic. You’ll be privy to your masatara’s deepest emotions. Any feelings beyond those of a platonic nature can make the bond feel…too intense. It grows stronger over time and often becomes all-consuming. There was more than one paramadhar through history who lost themselves to the passions that ate away at their spirits. Only those of the strongest mind can resist falling prey to its hold. I must caution against this.”
Rabin nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.” His hand curled into a fist. “But Zarya and I are different.”
“Are you sure?” Abishek asked. “Some masatara abused the relationship, bidding their paramadhar commit unspeakable acts in their name. They were so overcome with their desires that they were helpless to resist. I believe it’s that very reason the gods withdrew this particular magic, and very few pairs have been seen since.”
Rabin knew his mentor wasn’t trying to be difficult, but Abishek never took anything at face value. He always asked questions and attempted to poke holes, seeking the truth in everything.
“I’m sure,” Rabin said after a moment. “I believe this was also destined. Why else would the gods have returned this magic to us?”
The king sighed. “I still believe it would be a mistake. It can be easy to confuse the connection with your masatara as being more than it is.”
“I’m not confusing anything,” Rabin snapped. “I know what I feel.”
The king blinked at the sharp tone in Rabin’s voice. He wasn’t used to being questioned. “Then you will suppress it. I know you believe you are strong but you remain weak in spirit.”
Rabin felt gut-punched by those words. He knew it was true. When he’d met Abishek, he’d been a broken man, worth less than nothing. Abishek had helped draw him out of his shell and given him the strength to recover, but he still had so far to go. He didn’t deserve someone like Zarya, anyway. What had he been thinking?
“You’ll see I’m right,” Abishek said. “Go and find her, but do not give in to these desires. Perhaps when you’re ready, we can discuss it again, but for now, I forbid this and order you to break off all romantic involvement with my daughter.”
Rabin stared at the fire for several long seconds before looking up.
“Shall I go to her, then?”
Abishek smiled and folded his hands. “Of course. Bring her home, and then everything will be as it was always meant.”