❝In class, you said I reminded you of someone. Who is she?❞ ❝My wife. You remind me of my wife.❞ ━━━━━━━━━━ When an accidental time travel brings twenty-seven-year-old William eight years back to the past, he gets a chance to change his future and undo his marriage to the wife he never loved - the one who loved him too much. But landing at the doors of her nineteen-year-old self, he is met with someone who is extremely different from who he has always known her to be and he ends up falling in love with her. The catch? Eliza Scott hates him. Thrown into a race against time, William is left with two choices - win back Eliza's heart and go back to the same future which he left behind or forget Eliza and go back to a future where she is no longer his. [FEATURED BY @Romance]

Part 1 in Kalika Empire Series Shakrajit, the Crown Prince of Kalika Empire is infamous for his battle prowess. He is known for his shrewd political tricks. The hero of the people of Kalika Empire. The only ones who have seen his head bowed before them would be Kuladevi Rana Chandi Kalika, his mothers, and his Guru. Yet, she was only one who could boast that they could command him without a sign of rebellion. She. Mayurakshi, the Princess of Krishneri. Her greatest dream is to be her father's beloved little girl.

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.