CHAPTER FOURTEEN #3
She despised the sudden, stifling fragility everyone projected onto her. Shraddha tried to force her to drink endless cups of bone broth. Mrinalini tried to confine her to the sunroom. And Rudraksh... Rudraksh was the worst of all.
The Major General split his time evenly between managing the division command via secure uplinks, hunting the Khaalis cell, and maintaining a hyper-vigilant focus on his wife.
It was a Wednesday afternoon, three weeks after the revelation. The library command center was running at full capacity.
Serena was standing by the holographic projection table, reviewing a digital manifest of suspected supply routes along the border.
She wore a comfortable, loose-fitting black tunic and leggings, her hair braided efficiently.
The nausea had subsided slightly, replaced by a constant, low-level fatigue, but her mind remained razor-sharp.
She reached for the ceramic mug of herbal tea resting on the edge of the glass table.
Before her fingers could even brush the handle, a large, calloused hand intercepted hers.
Rudraksh appeared silently at her side. He seamlessly slid the mug out of her reach and replaced it with a sealed bottle of room-temperature, mineral-enriched water.
"Hydration, Blaze," Rudraksh ordered softly, his dark eyes scanning her face for any sign of pallor. "You haven't finished your water quota for the hour."
Serena closed her eyes, summoning the patience of a saint. She slowly turned her head to look at him.
"Monarch," Serena said, her voice a dangerously quiet hum. "If you swap my tea for water one more time today, I am going to field-strip your sidearm and hide the firing pin."
Across the table, Vivaan Saxena choked on a laugh, hastily turning it into a cough as Rudraksh threw him a glare. Armaan Trivedi, leaning against the server rack, simply smirked, thoroughly enjoying the show.
"You are on your feet too much," Rudraksh countered, unbothered by her threat.
He placed his hand on the small of her back, gently but firmly trying to steer her toward the plush armchair he had explicitly ordered moved into the library for her.
"Sit down. You can read the manifests from the chair. "
"I cannot read the holographic topography from the chair, Rudraksh," Serena argued, planting her boots firmly on the rug and refusing to yield an inch. "The angle obscures the elevation data. I am perfectly fine standing."
"Suture," Rudraksh barked, looking across the room. "What is the medical protocol for prolonged standing in the first trimester?"
Kunal Bakshi looked up from his medical inventory, fixing his commander with a flat, deeply unimpressed stare. "The medical protocol, General, is that a healthy, highly athletic woman can stand as long as she feels comfortable. Leave Bhabhi alone before she actually dislocates your shoulder."
The entire intelligence team snickered. They found the dynamic absolutely hilarious. The most intimidating man in the army was being reduced to a hovering, overbearing mess, and the most formidable woman on the payroll was threatening physical violence over herbal tea.
Rudraksh ignored his medic, his jaw tightening. He looked back at Serena, his dark eyes softening instantly as they met hers. The fierce possessiveness warred with the deep, humbling realization that he could not control this. He couldn't command biology.
"Just... fifteen minutes," Rudraksh compromised softly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the fabric at the base of her spine. "Sit for fifteen minutes. Please, Serena. For my sanity."
Serena looked at the raw, unguarded plea in his eyes. The irritation bled away, replaced by an enduring wave of love. She knew his hovering didn't come from a desire to control her, but from a desperate need to protect the life they had created in a world that was constantly trying to destroy them.
She let out a soft sigh, the fight draining from her posture.
"Fifteen minutes," Serena agreed softly, leaning into his touch.
Rudraksh let out a quiet breath of relief.
He guided her to the plush armchair, waiting until she was seated before handing her the digital pad with the manifests.
He didn't return to his own terminal. Instead, he pulled up a rigid wooden chair and sat directly beside her, his large frame acting as a physical shield between her and the rest of the room.
He reached out, his large hand resting gently over her still-flat stomach, a gesture so intimately protective it made the hardened operatives across the room look away in respectful silence.
"I will catch them, Blaze," Rudraksh murmured, his voice a gravelly vow meant only for her, his eyes locked on the digital map of the border. "I will catch the men who did this. I am going to make this world safe for you. And for our storm."
Serena rested her hand over his, her thumb tracing the scars on his knuckles. In the midst of the chaos, the manhunt, and the suffocating hovering, she found her, unshakeable sanctuary.
"I know you will, Monarch," she whispered. "We will."