Sacred Games Of Twisted Fate {18+}

RUTHLESS

***author's pov***

As the night dragged on, Aayara sat in the dungeon, her body trembling uncontrollably from the cold. The icy water had soaked through her clothes, chilling her to the bone. Her head felt heavy, her thoughts hazy from the fever that had taken hold. Every shiver sent a sharp ache through her body, and her teeth chattered uncontrollably as she curled into herself, trying to find some warmth in the damp, cold darkness.

Her breaths were shallow, her fever climbing as the hours passed. She couldn’t even muster the strength to cry anymore. The dungeon walls seemed to close in around her, amplifying her despair and isolation. Aayara’s mind wandered between brief moments of consciousness and exhaustion, but the fever wouldn't let her rest.

In the rare moments she was fully awake, she clung to the hope that Rudra would help her, though she knew Arjun's return would only make things worse. The cold air wrapped around her like a relentless enemy, and she squeezed her eyes shut, praying for the nightmare to end.

**** Next day .

The next day, as the first light barely touched the sky, Arjun strode into the dungeon with his usual dominating presence. His footsteps echoed off the cold stone walls, and the sound alone was enough to stir fear. Aayara, barely conscious, flinched at the sudden noise, her feverish body struggling to respond. She hadn’t slept properly, and her shivering had only worsened.

Arjun stopped a few feet away from her, his sharp eyes scanning her weakened form. Her clothes were still damp, clinging to her trembling body. His expression was unreadable, but there was a dark smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He crouched down, his shadow looming over her.

“Well, well…” he muttered, his voice cold yet oddly amused. "I warned you, didn’t I? And yet, here you are, looking like a half-drowned kitten."

Aayara didn’t have the strength to respond. Her gaze, heavy with fever, met his eyes briefly before she looked away, too weak to hold the stare.

He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek. "Don’t hurt yourself too much," he said in a low, dangerous tone. "I don’t like my things getting damaged."

A twisted sense of possessiveness laced his words, and though she was too weak to fight, the sheer arrogance of his claim made her chest tighten in anger. Even now, he was treating her like a possession—something to be controlled and broken.

Aayara pulled her face away, her voice shaky yet defiant. "Don’t touch me," she muttered, her breath labored, each word coming out with effort.

Arjun’s eyes darkened at her resistance. He clenched his jaw, his hand freezing in mid-air as he processed her boldness, even in her weakened state. Slowly, he lowered his hand, an unsettling smirk forming on his lips again.

“You still have some fight left in you, huh?” he mused, standing up and towering over her. “But let me remind you, Aayara, you’re in no position to tell me what to do.” His voice was dangerously calm, yet the underlying threat was clear.

He turned away from her, but before leaving the dungeon, he glanced over his shoulder, his voice low and icy. "The more you fight, the more I’ll enjoy breaking you. Remember that."

Aayara watched as Arjun left the dungeon, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and fear. No matter how handsome he was, the sharp angles of his face and the cold darkness in his eyes made her shudder. He wasn’t just a man—he was a beast, ruthless and merciless.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about the cruelty in his smirk, the way he enjoyed her suffering. *How could someone so captivating be so heartless?* She thought to herself, her body still weak from fever, her spirit refusing to break despite the horror of her situation.