Her Only Saviour

78. The Storm and the Flame

𝕿𝖚𝖏𝖍 𝖇𝖎𝖓 𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖆𝖏 𝖒𝖊𝖎𝖓 𝖆𝖆𝖌 𝖓𝖆𝖍𝖎 𝖗𝖊
𝕿𝖚𝖏𝖍 𝖇𝖎𝖓 𝖐𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑 𝖒𝖊𝖎𝖓 𝖗𝖆𝖆𝖌 𝖓𝖆𝖍𝖎 𝖗𝖊

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖞𝖆 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖆𝖗𝖘𝖊
𝕻𝖍𝖎𝖗 𝖐𝖞𝖚𝖓 𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖌𝖉𝖊 𝖓𝖊..

~~~~~

The darkness had teeth.
The dungeon floor was damp beneath her knees—blood, sweat, maybe tears. But she hadn’t cried. Not once.

The sharp crack of the whip rang out again.

She didn’t flinch.

Her body did.

But Nandini Rai? She didn’t flinch.

"You think you're strong, princess?" sneered one of the captors, circling her like a vulture. "Where is your saviour now?"

She coughed, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth as her lips curled into a defiant smirk.
"Probably sharpening his claws."

Inside, she was breaking. But outside? She was still fire.

They didn’t know what it had taken for her to survive Past betrayal. Aashi’s lies. Anirudh's abandonment. Her own silence.

She didn’t know if she’d live to see tomorrow. But if she died—she’d die with her chin up and eyes blazing.

Just then a slap split her lip open. Metal tasted like memory. Her head lolled to the side, vision blurred, but her brain burned fiercely.

“Where is he now?” The man snarled.

Nandini smiled faintly. “Why don’t you shove your question where your balls used to be?”

A kick to her stomach. A cry escaped her lips—but only for a second.

She could hear her heartbeat thudding weakly inside her chest—like a dying drum in an abandoned war. Her swollen belly felt like stone now, heavy with love, heavy with life. But the life inside her no longer moved.

Her baby hadn’t kicked.

Blood seeped between her legs.

She knew.

And that knowledge was worse than any wound.

“You know what they say about flames, darling?” one of the men sneered, dragging a knife across her collarbone just deep enough to sting. “They burn out.”

She didn’t reply. Couldn’t.

Her lips trembled, her throat raw. Not from screaming—but from biting down every scream she refused to give.

This was her punishment.

For loving.

For trusting.

For being alive.

---

𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴—

“I swear to god if we’re late—” he began, voice shaking with fury.

“We won’t be,” Vivaan cut in, sharp and steady, eyes locked on the GPS. “We’re two kilometers out. Signal just got stronger.”

Rudra looked up from his tablet. “We’ve confirmed it. Underground facility. Abandoned glass factory from the ‘80s—converted into something... sinister.”