Whisper in the Night|18+(hold)

Chapter 17 : Last Of The Bloodline

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Sorry guys,

This chapter is a bit shorter than usual. Life hasn't been easy lately, and I've been going through a lot. Honestly, I wasn't in the right mood to write today.

This chapter might not be my best, so I hope you'll forgive me this time and bear with me. Your support means a lot, and I promise to come back stronger with the next one. 💕

Thank you for understanding.

NO TARGET ON THIS CHAPTER

I WILL UPDATE WHEN I WILL BE ON MY RIGHT STATE.

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Author's pov:-

The Vardhan library stretched like a cathedral of forgotten knowledge. Dust motes floated in golden shafts of light streaming through tall arched windows, landing on centuries-old leather and faded parchment. Rudra's boots clicked against the marble floor, the sound sharp, echoing across the cavernous hall. He passed rows of towering shelves, fingers brushing lightly against spines etched with gold and cracked from age. Some books tilted, teetering as if nudged by his presence, and a faint cloud of dust rose.

Rudra lifted one thick volume, fingers grazing the gilded lettering on the spine. He let it rest in his palms, weighing it carefully, before setting it on the nearest table with a soft thump. The motion sent a puff of dust into the air, the particles catching the sunlight, swirling before settling slowly back to the floor.

From the shadows, Advik emerged, shoulders relaxed but eyes sharp, calculating every movement. He leaned casually against a marble pillar, the curve of his smirk barely visible under the flickering chandelier light. His fingers tapped lightly against his thigh, a subtle rhythm betraying his amusement, though his voice remained calm.

"Never thought I'd see the lion of Vardhans reduced to fetching books... because a woman asked," Advik said, letting the words hang as he tilted his head, letting the shadows play across his sharp features.

Rudra's hand lingered over the book. A chuckle rumbled from deep in his chest, low and measured, not yet turning to meet Advik's gaze. His shoulders shifted minutely, posture straightening, chest out, a deliberate display of controlled power.

"One day, Advik," Rudra said, finally lifting his gaze, eyes narrowing, lips curling faintly, "you'll swallow those words. Every lion bleeds. The right woman decides where to sink her claws."

Advik's smirk deepened. His hand ran through dark hair, head tilting slightly, studying Rudra's posture with careful interest. "Cute metaphor. But me? No woman alive could tame me."

Rudra's eyes glinted. He held the book casually at his side, letting the gilt edges catch the light. "That's what I thought too... until she did."

Advik's laugh came low, rich, vibrating in the air. Hands clenched briefly at his sides before relaxing. He stepped forward, moving in measured circles, each step deliberate, his gaze never leaving Rudra.

"Hmm... maybe I'm not ready for that kind of war." Advik flexed his fingers subtly, mirroring Rudra's poised stance.

A silence fell. Even the ancient clock in the corner seemed to pause. Advik's gaze flicked to the corner shadows, scanning as if he expected specters to emerge. "I think... there might be someone still alive from your bloodline."

Rudra's shoulders stiffened. Fingers hovered over the table, brushing lightly against the carved crest, tracing its contours with precision before pulling back. "Except for me, Kaira, and Karan. There's no one else."

Leather creaked as a chair shifted somewhere behind Advik. Silence pressed down, heavy, broken only by the distant drip of water from the old roof above.

Advik stepped closer, eyes narrowing, head tilting, scanning every line in Rudra's posture, every flex of muscle beneath his shirt. "Why guard it like a cursed treasure? Why do men die whispering its name?"

Rudra's jaw tightened. He leaned over the table, fingertips drumming against the carved crest like a subtle drumbeat, each tap deliberate, measured.

"Because it carries the mark," he said, letting the thick tome slide fully off the table with a deliberate scrape that echoed sharply. "The Moon."

Advik's pupils contracted, and his hand twitched instinctively toward the book-but he stopped, letting it rest untouched.

Rudra straightened, golden chandelier light catching the sharp angles of his face, casting long shadows across his features. "For the Seven Swords."

Advik tilted his head, stepping in a circle, studying the subtle tension in Rudra's shoulders. "Then why Kaira? Why does everyone hunt her like she's the last breath of the world?"

Rudra's lips curved into a thin, dangerous smile. He leaned back, fingers brushing the table's edge, the motion almost predatory. "Because of her mother."

Advik's smirk faltered slightly. He leaned forward, fists clenching lightly. "Her mother? What was she?Another fragile innocent doll for protection?"

Rudra's laugh was low, rolling, shaking the chandelier chains. He tapped the table with deliberate rhythm. "Fragile? Innocent? No. She founded the Seven Swords. Bent kings to their knees. Made monsters bow."

FlashBack Start:-

The courtyard shimmered under the late morning sun. Dust rose in lazy spirals as Rudra's boots scraped against the stone floor. Sweat trickled down his temples, streaking the dirt on his cheeks. He gripped the wooden sword with white-knuckled intensity, knuckles slick from moisture. Each movement was clumsy but deliberate, chest heaving, shoulders burning.

Sharvani moved like liquid fire, staff twirling, skirt brushing against the stone in a faint whisper. Her braid swung behind her like a whip as she pivoted, stance precise. The wooden weapons clashed-sharp, echoing, vibrating through Rudra's bones. He stumbled, jaw tight, fists clenching.

"Is that all, Rudra?" Sharvani teased, tapping his staff lightly. "Where's the lion in you?"

Rudra lunged again, weapon swinging wildly. He missed, tripping forward, knees scraping the stone. His chest rose and fell rapidly.

Sharvani's staff flicked, disarming him in one smooth motion. The wooden sword clattered against the courtyard floor. Rudra's fists flexed, shoulders tense, breath coming in quick bursts.

"One day... I'll beat you," he spat, voice catching slightly.

Sharvani crouched, hand brushing his shoulder in a guiding motion. "When that day comes... you'll become one of the Swords."

Rudra's eyes flared. He rose quickly, fists balling, grin splitting his flushed face. He straightened, stance firm, chest out, ready to take the world head-on.

Later, under the neem tree, Rudra leaned against her arm, legs swinging. His gaze shifted to the curve of her belly, eyes wide with wonder. Fingers tapped rhythmically against the tree root.

"I'll protect her," he whispered, fists tightening.

Sharvani pressed a kiss to his hair, hand lingering on his shoulder. "Then she will never be alone... not with you and Karan by her side."

Rudra nodded quickly, chest swelling, fists flexing again, ready to take on the universe.

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till then

bye:)

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