The Haunted Fortress of Bhangarh: Book 1

42. The unexpected strike

Rudra didn't know what the reason was, but he despised it. He fucking hated it when Rishabh arrived at the party, complimented Ishita, and earned a bright crimson blush on her cheeks. Rudra loathed it furthermore when she thanked him with a peck on his lips after casting surreptitious glances at everyone to ensure no one was looking her way.

And when she finally walked off towards the pool in order to spend some 'quality' time with him, Rudra could swear he had never felt lonelier in his life. Sighing, he glimpsed away from the retreating figure of the exquisite girl, unable to comprehend why he was suddenly feeling cold when he always felt warm and content in her presence. If the burning in his heart was what jealousy entailed, he wished he could construe the reason behind it.

His attention went to the veneration that commenced with the priest reciting all the mantras, praising the Lord, leaving a trail of positive energies in the entire house. Then his mother tasked him and Nidhi to sprinkle the holy water in the corners of the bungalow before the family partook in consuming the oblation. With the imperative tasks out of the way, the guests accompanied them outside on the road to burn the customary and minimal fireworks before the adults retired inside to play cards and the youngsters huddled by the pool, swaying their hips to the gentle music playing.

However, Rudra's mood was going down the drain with each passing moment. Ishita was still busy with Rishabh across the pool, on the other end where the campus ended and the boundary walls were erect. He had his arms wrapped around her waist, both standing too close to each other, noses touching, gazing into each other's eyes, oblivious to the presence of the elders around them—the very elders who had watched Ishita grow up from a toddler to a young woman. Additionally, Shravani had not yet arrived despite Rudra's vehement texts and calls.

Leaning against the bar placed on one corner of the backyard, glaring at the grass he was crushing beneath his feet, Rudra had a glass of mocktail in his hands. With his father's dire warnings of not getting intoxicated as he might need to drop a few guests off at their houses, he was unable to drink his woes away, and that was causing him immense anguish.

"She will be here soon," Ranvir said, patting his back, not noticing where Rudra's attention was focused—that on the girl in the peach-colored lehenga.

Rudra took his gaze off her. "Shravani is so late."

"But here I am," Shravani said, beaming and rushing towards him from the living area. Giving him a quick hug, she said, "I am so sorry. The veneration at my place ran late."

He glanced at her once over, and his sour mood deteriorated. "Why are you not wearing pink?"

She pouted. "Do I look terrible in blue?"

"No, you look beautiful. As always. But I wanted you to—"

"Are we just going to stand here or what?"