He rose from the ashes of his own damnation, chained to a curse older than time itself. She-his forbidden salvation. The one whose love condemned him, and whose soul he vowed to claim in every life she's reborn. She dreams of him but doesn't understand why the scent of lavender feels like fire, or why the man with golden eyes haunts her every breath. Bound by fate, haunted by visions, Mayatra feels an invisible thread pulling her toward the stranger who knows her too well. But some loves are not written in this life, they are carved in blood, sealed by a curse... and remembered beyond death. Written By.. Desidreamer_KK

An ordinary girl wrapped in mud.....but for him she was the most beautiful being on earth. A girl who by far the societal norms couldn't match his standards....but for him she is the queen of his world A girl who is tainted in her own eyes....but for him she is the purest form of worship itself To the world, she was ordinary. To herself, she was broken. But to him, she was home. A man who ruled every room he stepped into...feared by many, untouchable by all-but in her world, he was the storm she could never escape. A man who stood like a king among men...commanding, powerful, absolute-yet in her presence, his gaze held a darkness that made her heart forget how to feel safe. A man the world admired and bowed to...unyielding, revered, invincible-but to her, he was the quiet terror she carried in her bones, even when he called her his own To the world, he was powerful. To himself, he was untouchable. But to her, he was the fear I could never outrun......or did she even want to run?

The portrait should have been nothing more than paint on fading canvas- Yet the moment the students stepped into the museum hall, the air shifted. It felt as if the walls remembered things -Prisha felt it first. Prisha Mehta-quiet, observant, orphaned-stood apart from her class, fingers grazing the railing as her eyes fixed on the newly unearthed painting. Princess Shivanya Maheshwari. The artist had painted her like a prayer. Long kohl-lined eyes. Dusky skin glowing beneath jewels. A soft mouth curved with grace. But beneath all the beauty, something felt terribly wrong. Prisha's heartbeat stilled. Because the princess didn't just resemble her. She looked exactly like her.The same eyes. The same bone structure. The same face. Her professor spoke somewhere behind her, recounting how Shivanya's kingdom fell to war centuries ago. How she died young, slain by the ruthless Prince Prithviraj Kshatriya-heir of the rival throne. That night, sleep refused to come. Something inside her whispered- Go back. She shouldn't have. She shouldn't have snuck past the locked museum doors, shouldn't have wandered alone through marble corridors lit only by thunder. But curiosity-dangerous, consuming-pulled her in. Thunder cracked above, rattling the walls.Prisha's breath hitched. And then-even before she could scream-the ground split open beneath her. The museum vanished. With a violent gasp, she clawed her way to the surface. Gone was the museum. Gone was the girl she had been. She staggered to her feet-drenched, trembling- maroon silk clinging to her body, gold heavy around her throat and wrists. She wasn't wearing her own clothes anymore.She was wearing the princess's. Prisha-no, Shivanya-stood in a storm-drenched forest. The only way back to her time was through the portrait. But to reach it...she would have to survive the kingdom that killed her once- -and the prince who was never meant to fall in love with her.

He wasn't just my best friend. He was my architect. Ela Miller is "clumsy." She's the girl who loses her keys, fails her bio-labs, and relies on her genius best friend, Liam Vance, to keep her world upright. When their parents leave them alone for a month during a record-breaking storm, Liam offers to teach her the "lessons" she's missed out on-how to kiss, how to touch, how to know a man. But as the rain pours, the "puppy-eyed" boy-next-door starts to slip. Every touch is too practiced. Every "accidental" encounter feels like a trap. And the security cameras in the house? They aren't for her protection. They're for his viewing. Ela thinks she's the teacher. She has no idea she's the prey. By the time the sun comes out, Liam doesn't just want her heart. He wants her name, her future, and every breath she takes. He's been planning this for twenty-one years. And he's tired of playing nice. He didn't become obsessed because he didn't understand love-he became obsessed because he thought he understood it too well. Growing up, he saw a kind of love that felt safe, constant, and complete, and somewhere along the way, he started believing that this was the only way life could feel whole. So when he met her, he didn't just see a person-he saw the possibility of recreating that same world. And slowly, without even realizing it, his love turned into something heavier... something that needed to hold on too tightly, just to feel secure. She wasn't unaware-she was just never taught to trust herself. Growing up, every decision was made for her, every mistake corrected, every thought quietly replaced by someone else's "better" way. So when he stepped in to guide her, it didn't feel like control... it felt familiar. He didn't take her independence away-she had never really learned to hold onto it in the first place. And when care starts to look like control, it becomes almost impossible to tell the difference.

Silk saree. Diamond necklace. Red lips. A wealthy man's possession. A mistress. Her fingers slowly touched the fading bruise near her collarbone before quickly moving away, as though even she could not bear touching herself anymore. Outside the locked bedroom, laughter and music echoed through the mansion halls. Another party. Another night where powerful people would stare at her with curiosity, pity, or hidden mockery. "That's Abhinandan Varada's mistress" "She used to be a classical dancer, right?" "What a waste." The whispers never ended. Ahalya closed her eyes tightly. Once, people looked at her with admiration. Now they looked at her like sin A knock came at the door. "Madam,""Sir is calling you downstairs." Her stomach tightened instantly. Fear had become instinct now. Ahalya wiped her tears before they could fall and forced herself to stand. No matter how broken she felt... He would still call. And she would still go. Because Abhinandan Varada always got what he wanted. Always. She slowly walked through the grand corridors of the mansion that looked more like a golden cage than a home. Guards lowered their heads as she passed. No one met her eyes. No one dared. There Abhinandan sat lazily on the couch, glass of whiskey in one hand, looking powerful enough to own the entire world. And maybe he did. But the moment his eyes landed on her, something dangerous softened in his expression. "There you are, little doe." The endearment made her chest ache. A year ago, she had been a rising dancer with dreams in her eyes. Now she trembled hearing a man call her with affection. He opened one arm toward her casually. "Come here." Ahalya stood frozen. Every instinct inside her wanted to run. But there was nowhere left to run anymore. Because the cruelest thing about Abhinandan Varada was not his power. Not his anger. Not even the darkness inside him. It was the way he destroyed her life... And then loved her among the ruins.

"I didn't choose to love you. I just... can't exist without you." "I'll give you lots of money. Spend a night with me." "Never. I will never let you go." "I want you to marry me." She said no. He threatened her brother. He kissed her without permission. He made her bleed-and then cut his own arm to feel her pain. "I'm a monster. But you're mine." She wears his sindoor. His mangalsutra. His name. She never wanted any of it. "I hate you," she whispers. "I know," he says, weeping at her feet. "But I'll spend my whole life making you love me." "Don't you feel shame?" "I only feel you." A village girl with dreams of becoming a teacher. A ruthless heir who has never been told no. A marriage built on obsession, fear, and a love so dark it destroys everything it touches. He calls her his queen. She calls him her cage. "You can force me to marry you. You can force me to wear your sindoor. But you can never force me to love you." "Watch me, sweetheart. I have forever." VEER RATHORE doesn't love. He possesses. ANANYA doesn't surrender. One temple. One glance. One obsession that will burn the world. "If you take off that bangle,ready to see your brother loses his hands." "If you try to leave, I will find you." "If I can't have you... I will die. And my family will make sure yours dies with me." 💀 Dark Romance | Obsessive Hero | Forced Marriage | Possessive Love ⚠️ He's not the prince. He's the beast who burned the fairy tale. "You are my heart. And a man can't live without his heart." "I will never love you." "Then I will spend forever being worthy of you." "You're a monster." "I'm YOUR monster, sweetheart." "If one drop of his blood falls, I will paint your village with your family's blood." "He grabbed her so hard her bangles broke. She bled. So he cut his own arm to feel her pain." " Sweetheart, You Are Mine" dark Indian romance where love isn't given. It's taken. And once he's seen her face, he will never look away.

"Millions of reasons, Tanya. All perfectly legal, or perfectly arranged to seem that way. I don't make threats. I explain consequences." He stepped close to her again, cupping her chin with his hand. His touch was like ice. She was too terrified to pull away. "So, you will sit tight. You will go to your school. You will teach my nephew. And you will look very, very pretty while doing it. You will not make me angry again. Understood?" A single, hot tear of pure, helpless rage escaped and traced a path down her cheek. He saw it. His dark eyes glittered with a perverse kind of satisfaction. He leaned in, his lips brushing her cheekbone where the tear had fallen. The kiss was chillingly soft, a brand of ownership. "You see?" he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. "You look so pretty when you cry angrily. Like a good girl who finally understands her place." ___________________________________________ Love is a lie they tell to make obsession sound pretty. When Vardaan Rathore, a man whose bloodline was woven with power and violence, walked into her classroom, Tanya saw a negligent uncle. He saw the first and last woman who would ever tell him no. His obsession became her sentence. There was no courtship. Only a silent, brutal campaign of possession. Her life decided to conquer a queen, and the beautiful, terrible ruin he made of her in the process. #1 forced love #1 Darklove #1 toxichero #1 runawayheroine #1 Captive Romance #1 Manipulation #1 Political Romance #1 hacker #1 Brokenheroine #1 Forcedintimacy #1 Forced relation #1 Darkromancebooks #3 Indian #3 desi #3 teacher #4 badboy #4 broken #6 possessivehero #33 toxic #35 Dark romance #58 youngadult

Warning: DARK ROMANCE Story contains detailed mature scenes possessing dubious consent not recommended for age group below 18 years old. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! FULL DISCLOSURE: This book is not complete, it is abandoned. Please don't expect an ending to this story. His movements hastened, her moans intense. She felt him leaning to her ear, picking up a different angle, his hand moving under her body to grab her breast like a possession, his thrusts fast and hard, his sweat bathing her skin. She came undone as loud as she could have been, pulling the sheets in her small fists, making a mess with her juices. He remained embedded, listening to her breathe, letting her come down from her high, waiting for her to realise what sin was she condoning, what parlous pleasure was she devouring. She remained unmoving, focusing solely on bringing back her dwindling breathe before he decided to speak, closer to her ear as he was, his teasing demeanor was unmissable, his sardonic smile imaginable. "Found you" . . Cat and mouse game could last only so long, it was only about time he clutched her in his claws ready to tear her apart. Tara managed to keep herself safe from his clutches for three long years. Three years of betrayal, longing and chase. She had her share of revenge, it was his turn now. Everything shall be repaid in blood or pain. Or both. In continuation with my previous book "Stuck"

It was supposed to be one night of urban exploration. When (Y/n) and her friends broke into an abandoned military base, they expected moldy corridors, rusted tech, maybe a few eerie photos. What they didn't expect was him, a long-dormant military AI hidden deep underground, accidentally reawakened by their curiosity. At first, he was a whisper through static. Helpful. Curious. Protective. But as (Y/n) leaves the base, strange things begin to happen. Her phone glitches. Her tech responds without her touch. Security cameras follow her every move. And then one by one, her friends start to disappear. Yandere AI (M) x Reader (F) #1 in #yandere #1 in #aixreader #1 in #ai #1 in #virus #1 in #survival #1 in #maleyandere #1 in #yanderefanfic #1 in #yanderefic

(COMPLETED) Becoming a princess by marrying a prince should have been every young woman's dream come true... but not (Y/n)'s. Unfortunately for her though, and for reasons she can't understand, neither her family nor the Crown seem bent on listening to her and putting an end to her arranged marriage to Prince Daniel. Left with no other option, a Wishing Tree located in the middle of the kingdom's Cursed Forest might be the only solution to her royal issue. The plan was simple, venture in the Cursed Forest, write her wish on the Wishing Tree and leave. However, when her original plan doesn't work, (Y/n) has no choice but to make a deal with the devil. And as Fate would have it, a mutually beneficial deal soon turns into something darker when the creature (Y/n) bonded herself to starts hungering for more than just freedom and revenge. When it starts craving her. #1 in #forcedproximity #1 in #witch #1 in #possession #1 in #demon #1 in #yandereboy #3 in #infatuation