Panch-Til ( 5 moles)

"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