"If you want me to live inside these walls," she whispered, her voice trembling in the dark as she backed away from his towering shadow, "you have to give me at least some freedom. A door unlocked. A breath of air that isn't guarded." A heavy, terrifying silence filled the room. He didn't move an inch, his dark eyes fixing on her with a cruel, cold promise before a chilling smile touched his lips. "Fine," he murmured, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet whisper. "I can give you all the freedom you want." She froze, staring at him in utter disbelief, her breath catching in her throat. "F-fine? You'll... you're actually going to let me walk out?" "Of course," he replied softly, stepping closer as the trap snapped shut. "But before that, I just need to take away your ability to run first." He kept moving towards her, eyes fixed on her ankles... Warning ⚠️ - This story contains extreme graphic scenes, physical violence, non-consensual elements, psychological manipulation, captivity, and themes of trauma and Stockholm syndrome. It explores intensely dark, toxic, and disturbing dynamics that may be triggering or distressing to some readers. Discretion is strongly advised.

Siddharth and Naina were meant for each other. Until family decided otherwise. Now Naina is married to his younger brother-a man who neither loves nor values her. Forced to watch the woman he still loves suffer in silence, Siddharth is trapped between duty and desire, loyalty and longing. In a world bound by tradition and sacrifice, some loves refuse to die. But can two hearts torn apart by circumstance ever find their way back to each other? ------ Tropes - - Forbidden Love - Longing hearts - Brother's Wife - Soulmates Forced Apart - Family Pressure / Duty vs Desire - Second Chance Romance - Emotional Torment / Watching from Afar - Unhappy Marriage (Naina's) - Protective Hero - Angsty Slow Burn - Will They / Won't They

Suryabhan Singh is a 25-year-old prince from Amer in Rajasthan. Everyone expects him to take the throne, but the pressure, the greed around him, and his own trust issues are crushing him. Just before his crowning ceremony, he runs away. In Delhi he bumps into Nikita, a 24-year-old girl who lives on her own. She's hot-headed, independent, and dealing with her own family problems. She comes from a modest home where everyone is government officer. They wanted the same for her, but she refused. She dreams of studying quantum computers in the UK and is working hard to save enough money to go. Suryabhan asks her to hide him for a few days and offers her a lot of money. Nikita agrees, but she doesn't treat him like a prince. She makes him do normal chores and earn his keep like anyone else. As the days pass, the runaway prince starts to see how privileged-and how fragile-his life has been. And he can't help admiring the tough, stubborn girl who refuses to bow to anyone. What happens when the real world collides with a hidden royal... and neither of them is ready for the feelings that start to grow? Tropes: • Grumpy × Sunshine • Royalty × Commoner • Runaway Prince • Forced Proximity • Opposites Attract • He Falls First • Slow Burn • Independent Heroine • Touch Her and Die (protective sunshine) • Softening the Grumpy One • Privilege vs Real Life

He demanded her surrender. She gave him her soul. Samrat Vardhan is the untouchable heir of the Vardhan empire - cold, traditional, and forged in power. As the face of his family's political dynasty, he rules his world with an iron fist and expects the same absolute obedience at home. Controlling. Possessive. Quick to rage. He does not love gently. He claims. Nitya is everything he is not - soft-spoken, gentle, and devoted to the bone. She entered their marriage knowing she would never be his equal... only his. And for years, she tried to be exactly what he demanded: the perfect, silent wife who bowed her head and swallowed her pain. But even the most devoted heart has a breaking point. One devastating misunderstanding shatters the fragile world they built. Trust turns to poison. Love twists into something jagged and unrecognizable. And the man who once demanded her complete surrender is left facing the one thing he never prepared for - A wife who finally walks away. In a marriage built on control, what remains when surrender is no longer an option? Devoted to Monster is a dark, emotionally charged story of power, possession, and the brutal cost of loving a man who only knows how to rule. Tropes: - Arranged Marriage - Age Gap (older, powerful husband × younger, soft wife) - Possessive / Controlling Hero - Temperamental Hero - Devoted Soft Heroine - Power Imbalance - Toxic Marriage - Misunderstanding - Forced Proximity - Political Dynasty / Powerful Family - He Falls First (but shows it wrong) - Complete Surrender / Obedient Wife Dynamic - Dark Romance - Marriage on the Brink / Broken Trust - Second Chance

"Vikram..." she rasped, her voice a broken, wet whisper. "Please... I'm sorry... I won't... I won't fight you anymore. Just... let me go. Please." Vikram stopped. He tilted his head, a faint, unsettling smirk touching his lips as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick roll of heavy-duty medical nylon restraint strips. "Let you go?" Vikram asked softly, his voice smooth as silk. "Haven't you heard what Dr. Sharma said, jaan? You are suffering from severe manic psychosis. You hurt yourself. You need complete, uninterrupted bed rest." Panic surged through Meera's veins, fighting against the drugs. She tried to pull her hand back, but Vikram's grip caught her wrist with bone-crushing force. He tied her wrist and ankles to bedpost. "No-stop, please-!" she choked out, her voice breaking into a terrified sob. "There," Vikram murmured, smoothing down the blanket over her chest with horrifying gentleness. "Now you won't fall out of bed during your delusions."

In the shadow of a solar eclipse, one desperate leap changes everything. Niharika Sharma is a brilliant quantum physics researcher on the brink of breaking through-or breaking down. Trapped in a toxic engagement with Karan Khanna, the powerful and controlling director of her institute, and dismissed by her own parents, Niharika carries the weight of constant failure and quiet abuse. When her fiancé assaults her , she sees only one way out. She jumps. Pulled from the ancient waters of the 13th century by Shankar Acharya-a righteous, gentle Brahmin scholar still grieving the loss of his family-Niharika awakens in a world of temples, dharma, and quiet strength she has never known. As Shankar protects her from suspicious eyes and teaches her to survive in an era far removed from her own, an unexpected bond blossoms between the brilliant woman of science and the wise teacher of the past. In his arms, Niharika discovers the respect, tenderness, and love she was always denied. But time is merciless. When the next eclipse arrives, she must choose: return to the future that nearly destroyed her, or stay in a world that was never meant to be hers. What happens when love defies centuries? And what price will they both pay when the river pulls them back? *Eclipse of Two Worlds* is a sweeping tale of healing, courage, and a love that transcends time-where ancient wisdom meets quantum dreams, and one woman finds the strength to rewrite her destiny.

PANCH-TIL 3 Three souls. One hundred years. A past that refuses to stay buried. --- NOTE FOR READERS: This is the third and final book of the Panch-Til trilogy. Please read Book 1 and Book 2 first to understand the story, world, and characters. --- A century ago, an ancient love story ended in a devastating tragedy. Death separated three bound souls, leaving their story unfinished. Now, one hundred years later, fate brings them back. Reborn in this life with the exact same names and faces, their paths cross once again in the foggy pine valleys of Himachal Pradesh. Running away from a dark and forced engagement in Delhi, Navanya seeks safety in the quiet mountains. She has no memory of her past. She doesn't know that the quiet man shielding her at the lodge and the sharp art restorer challenging her every word are the two men her soul once belonged to. As the quiet pull between them grows stronger, an old nightmare returns. The monster who ruined their past life is back, ready to do whatever it takes to claim her again. Will they be able to protect her this time, or will history repeat itself? --- Step into Panch-Til 3-where love lives across lifetimes, and destiny never forgets.

You ran from the Kings, Navanya. You thought you could hide my blood in a dirty city? Now, you will watch me strip away everything you love, piece by piece - Zoravar 🪷🪷🪷 I knelt outside your studio door every single day, Navanya. The prince of this valley begged you for forgiveness like a dog begging for crumbs. You heard me crying. You knew how broken I was after my mother died. But you sat behind that door, calculated your tracks, and let me believe you were dead. You didn't just run from a cage... you ripped my soul out and stole my son - Shourya 🪷🪷🪷 No! No, please, Zoravar, don't do this! Take my life, punish me, kill me if you want-but give me my baby! He needs his mother! You cannot be this heartless to an innocent child! - Navanya

"Four weeks are up, Zoravar, You promised me that after final Pooja, you'll send me back to mumbai" she said, her voice brittle. "I did the pooja. I'm leaving." Shourya stepped out from the shadows of the staircase, blocking the exit. He didn't move; he just loomed. She froze, looking from the younger brother to the elder. Zoravar stood by the window, his tailored suit sharp enough to cut. He didn't look at her; he looked at the mountains. "I have a flight in three hours," she snapped, reaching for the door handle. It didn't budge. "Unlock the door." Zoravar finally turned. His gaze was a slow, suffocating weight. "There is no flight. I had it removed from the schedule this morning." Navanya's heart hammered against her ribs. "You promised. You said one month and I'd be free!" "I lied," Zoravar said, his voice a terrifyingly calm thread of silk. "I needed you compliant for the ritual. Now that it's done, the truth is much simpler." "You can't keep me here," she whispered, her lungs tightening. Shourya stepped closer, his presence a wall of heat behind her. "We spent two years searching for those marks on your skin, sweetheart. You think we're letting you go back to a desk job in Mumbai?" "I'm a guest!" she cried. "Are you sure? Wife....." Zoravar corrected, his hand finally rising to graze the mole on her cheek with possessive slow-motion. "You're our wife, we are married during last ritual. you're our wife. Shourya and I are your husbands" "No, That never happened" she choked out. Zoravar leaned down, his breath over her ear. "Welcome home, My Queen. Don't bother screaming. The mountains don't have ears." #1 in #polygamy on 3rd June 2026 #2 in #controlling on 3rd June 2026

The room felt smaller than it was. Or maybe-it was just him. Naina stumbled back as Shiv moved forward. Not fast. Not angry. Just... certain. Every step he took seemed to suck the oxygen out of the air. "Shiv... please," her voice shook. He didn't stop. He looked at her with the same detached focus he used for a police report. "Why do you keep pushing me to this, Naina?" he asked quietly. Her back hit the wall. Cold. Hard. No space left. "I didn't do anything..." she whispered. "You always say that," he replied. His voice was calm. Controlled. It was a thousand times worse than anger. She tried to bolt past him, but his hand caught her wrist. The grip was unyielding-a set of human shackles. "Don't," he said. The word was a final decree. Her heart pounded violently. "Let go..." His face came closer, his breath hot and terrifyingly intimate against her ear. "I don't want to hurt you..." he whispered. A pause. Her breath hitched. "...but you don't listen." Tears blurred her vision. Her body went still-not because she wanted to, but because she was paralyzed. And there was nowhere left to run. 🏅#1 in #policeofficer on 23/5/2026 🏅#1 in #husbandandwife on 25/5/2026