HOOR

CHAPTER 17: GAYATRI

The night stretched on in a heavy silence, the only sounds being the rustle of the leaves and the distant calls of night creatures. I couldn’t sleep—not properly, anyway. My mind wouldn’t stop racing. Was it the journey? The prophecy? Or was it the man lying just a few feet away from me?

I could feel his presence, even in the stillness. He was so close, yet there was this invisible wall between us. I couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in the air whenever he moved. He wasn’t touching me, but it felt like his every movement sent a ripple through me.

And maybe that was why I couldn’t shake this strange feeling of vulnerability. I wasn’t used to feeling like this—like my mind and body were in conflict. I was the one who kept control. Always. But here? With him? It felt different.

I turned my head just slightly, stealing a glance at him in the dim moonlight. He was lying back, staring at the stars with an expression I couldn’t read. It was almost like he was lost in his thoughts, his eyes unfocused and distant. For a second, I wondered if he was thinking about the same things as me, but I quickly pushed the thought away. I wasn’t about to indulge in this strange…connection between us.

"General," I finally broke the silence, my voice a little hoarse. "Do you ever... wonder what you’re fighting for?"

He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained on the stars, but I could see his jaw tighten, like he was wrestling with the question. After a beat, he spoke, his voice surprisingly soft. "I fight because it’s my duty. To the kingdom. To the people." He paused, as if weighing his words. "And sometimes, because it’s all I know."

I let out a breath, though I wasn’t sure what to do with it. "Must be nice, having such certainty."

His gaze flicked to me then, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Certainty isn’t always a gift, Gayatri."

I tilted my head. "You think it’s a curse, then?"

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he shifted, his body coming closer to mine, just enough to close the distance without making a move. I could feel the heat radiating off him, could smell the faint trace of sweat and the outdoors in his clothes. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was... electric.

"I think," he began, his voice low, "that it can make you blind. Make you think you know everything, but you never do."

I swallowed, my heart picking up speed, and tried to focus on his words, but they were becoming harder to follow. The tension between us was growing unbearable, and I couldn’t quite figure out how we’d gotten here. How it felt so... intimate, with just the space between us hanging in the air like that.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. The only sounds were our breaths, in sync in the silence.

Then, without warning, he spoke again, his voice almost a whisper. "Have you ever wanted something you can’t have?"

I froze, his question hanging in the air like a challenge, a dare. His eyes locked onto mine then, a burning intensity in them that I couldn’t ignore.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Couldn’t. I couldn’t let him in, couldn’t let him see the truth—my truth. So instead, I smiled, a little too quickly. "I’m sure you’ve wanted plenty of things you can’t have."

He chuckled, a soft, deep sound that sent another jolt through me. "Maybe," he said. "But not like this."

I glanced at him, my heart racing. What did he mean by that? Before I could ask, he shifted, his face coming into view under the moonlight. There was something raw in his expression—something real, something that didn’t belong to the General, but to the man who stood in front of me.