Krishnapriya Devashree

41. The Ultimatum

There he was, Pratap, wide awake in the middle of the night, his room barely lit, and his mind? A complete mess, thanks to the latest drama surrounding his sister's suitors.

Honestly, what is it with these guys? He's always looked up to his sister, but he also knows it's his job to look out for her-she's his sister, for heaven's sake. But now, with these so-called suitors popping up left and right, his protective instincts are hitting the roof. And not in a good way.

First, there was Shishupal. The mere thought of him trying to worm his way into being worthy of his goddess-like sister was enough to make him see red. The guy's arrogance was through the roof, and the smug look he carried around...ugh, it's unbearable. The idea of his jiji, the sweetest person he knew, ending up with someone like him?

Not happening on his watch. "Over my dead body," he muttered to the empty room. There's no way I'm letting that happen.

And then, of course, there's Shri Krishna. The whole world seems to be in awe of him-tales of his bravery, wisdom, and supposed miracles.

Sure, he gets it, he's something special. But sitting here in the quiet, thinking about his Jiji's future, he can't help but demand more.

Just because the world sees him as some sort of demigod doesn't automatically make him the right choice for his jiji. "He may be everyone's hero, but he's got to prove he's right for my sister,"

So, here's the deal, he'll keep a watchful eye on these suitors, and scrutinize their every move. Their character, their intentions, it all has to be checked out.

This isn't just a promise; it's a mission. Whoever wants to win her heart had better be prepared to go through him first. And if they think they can bring any sort of trouble her way, well, they're in for a rude awakening.

I'm the guardian of her happiness, her shield against the world. And I'll be damned if I let anyone-especially not some overconfident suitor-dim her shine.

**********

As the pre-dawn hours wrapped the world in a soft, gray hue, Devashree, restless and stirred by dreams of Krishna, rose from her bed.

With a heart fluttering like the wings of a caged bird at the thought of him, she sought the solace of her private gardens.

The cool air of the early morning brushed against her skin as she walked through the archway leading into the gardens. The world around her was silent, save for the occasional chirp of a waking bird or the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. The fragrant aroma of jasmine and the earthy scent of dew-soaked soil filled her senses, grounding her thoughts, all because of Krishna.

As she walked along the stone path, her mind replayed the moments spent in Krishna's arms, each memory a treasure she held close to her heart. The way his presence had soothed her turmoil, how his gaze seemed to penetrate to the very depths of her soul, left her yearning for more-more moments, more glances, more of him.

A prickling sensation crept upon Devashree, a sudden tightness in her stomach that had nothing to do with the butterflies that had taken residence there. It was as if the air had shifted, carrying with it a chill that spoke of danger, of ill intentions lurking in the shadows.

Her steps faltered, and she paused, her senses heightened.

The garden, once a refuge, now felt like a dangerous ground.

Devashree's eyes darted to the dense foliage, to the darkened corners where the light of dawn had yet to reach. There was a heaviness, a feeling of being watched by eyes filled with malice.