Do not hate yourself because you are a monster; we all have one inside. We all are cruel, ugly, villainous in the life of another.

****

Indumala was unable to eat much. In a small span of time, she had grown used to having dinner with Rudra. Instead of staying with her, he stormed out of the room, self-inflicted wounds blurring his perception of their flourishing bond. Indumala tried to read herself to sleep. Neither did the pages call her nor did the bed. At the end, she decided to visit him.

"I think we have reached that level of comfort where I can also visit his room at night." Though, it was late, and he was a Rajan. But the irritation, the knot in her stomach was too strong to be pushed back. She buried her judgements for the better. Let others think what they want, I will go and see if he is crying again. She reached his room and pushed open the door. "You don't have to be alone–"

On the floor, in a little pool of blood, was Rudra. Still. Unmoving. His eyes were rolled back on a brittle face, nails shaped as edgy stones. Someone had pulled his hair so hard that the tresses lay around, a bunch of uprooted grass from a field that thought about the kingdom's welfare day and night. Near his feet was a chalice, drops of wine spilling out of it.

"Rudra!" she screamed. Keeping his head on her lap, she shook his face and checked his pulse. The clock of his body had stopped.

Indumala's face coloured itself in pale fright, sinful red and guilty blue. Her eyes, so spirited and sunny, had fallen in the trap of a swallowing dusk. Starless, dark and dreary, fear lived in the crevices. Tears like dewdrops danced on her eyelashes.

"You...you can't die," she stammered. "Don't leave." Whispers piled up inside, stacked one above another in a never-ending tower of grief and shock. Death was something Indumala had seen many times. But the ache that was born in her heart now was enough to steal her own fragile life.

She screamed and screamed, coughing aloud as the skin of her throat was cut. Faint spots of blood splattered on her hands. She ran her fingers through his hair, tracing his lifeless eyes and parted lips. So insane had Indumala become, that not once did she flinch when giving him a mouth-to-mouth. She began slapping him. "Wake up you rascal," she cursed. "You moron, you coward–"

Doors flung open as Dilrobar and the guards came running to Indumala's voice of help. Immediately Dilrobar set upon a scan of Rudra's body and the guards inspected the room.

"The chalice is made of silver. Its dust was present in the wine too," a guard said.

Dilrobar took his palms and felt the hardness of his curved claws. They were so inhuman.

"Who did this to him?" Indumala mumbled between her tears.

"He will be fine." This, was Dilrobar's cold answer.

Indumala's jaws dropped. Her mouth hung open in utter disbelief. "Are you mad? He is dead. Dead! What will happen to Aryavarta? What will happen to his subjects?"

What will happen to me?

Whom will I protect?

"I failed, Dilrobar. I failed as a bodyguard. I will burn with him. I don't deserve to live–"

"He will be fine, Indumala." Dilrobar gently placed Rudra's palm over his chest. "This has happened before too. He will be fine."

Indumala was perplexed beyond comprehension. Not a word escaped her lips. Stunned, she stared at Rudra's face, whispering his name in a solemn prayer.

"Indumala, I advise you to go and stand in one corner of the room. You may even leave."

She didn't listen to Dilrobar. Her lips chanted his name akin to an ancient invocation. Their foreheads touched, a wholehearted moment ruined by grisly fate.

"Don't tell me I didn't warn you–" Dilrobar's words were thrown to the wind when Indumala gasped. Rudra's chest inflated, and he took in a gush of air. Joy came back to Indumala's face. A miracle happened.

Alas, to everyone else present there, it was not something they had never witnessed. In the past, the Rajan had not once but multiple time desired to die, only to be revived back by destiny.

The curse.

"He is alive... He is alive!" Naive Indumala grinned. Perhaps she wouldn't have been so happy upon knowing the identities of her biological parents. This moment was too precious to let slip, so she cradled him on her lap.

His eyes shot open.

"Rudra, can you see me?" Indumala asked. Dilrobar and others drifted away from where he was. The men readied their spears, while the defenceless Dilrobar hid behind the frame of the majestic bed. Two guards flanked her, ensuring unconditional protection.

"Why are you all acting as if he is going to rip you apart?" Indumala scoffed. "He is sick. He is very weak! He won't punish you. If someone is to be blamed, it's me–"

Rudra jerked and sat upright. His nails, rather claws, grew in length and dug deep into the floor. He lolled back his head, the sclera of his eyes washed in black. Fangs cracked gums and pierced out of his mouth.

His skin turned snowy and bloodless, cracking like a parched desert of winter. The lines were filled with onyx blood, a sign of beings deemed to be the culprits of a calamitous society. Fur grew on the back of his neck and near his darkened elbows.

Rudra snapped his neck and glared at Indumala, who was frozen on spot, as if struck by the shine of Medusa's orbs. She resisted even breathing, eyes hovering over the beast in front of her.

A brave guard pulled Indumala up and hauled her back. As soon as she went out of Rudra's sight, he, now transformed into a werewolf, howled at the guard. The guard forgot all his courage and fell on his knees. Poor Indumala's shoulders were curled up. Her arms stood as a barrier between her and Rudra. But nothing could be done to stop him. With sluggish steps he cornered her in the room, pushing her against a wall.

A monstrous face it was, twisted and contorted, with leathery skin, jagged teeth protruding from a snarling mouth, and malevolent eyes that radiated hostility. Humanly features were distorted, creating an unsettling visage.

Yet, the gurgling noise of the hungry wolf quietened to a murmur, replaced by an awakened sense of rediscovery. Rudra's coarse hands, now a hybrid of human palms and webbed paws, caressed the cheeks of Indumala. She whimpered and shivered under his touch. "Forgive me," she said. "Do not kill me, please."

"Ah..." Rudra moaned. He held her by the chin, forcing her to look at him.

Indumala shut her eyes. "I am sorry."

"No..." It wasn't Rudra that spoke, but his wolf. His hands travelled down her body– feeling her mellow skin, her nimble fingers, the sides of her thigh, and then rested on her waist. The contact was gentle, almost careful, as if Indumala was a woman of glass, and his cruel claws could scratch her beauty.

"Rudra?" she called.

When his eyes met hers, they softened and melted. Pain rushed through his veins. He groaned, pulling himself closer to feel her breath. The wolf tried every bit to stop itself. But its mate was so close, and couldn't he feel her even a little?

"Petra," he whispered against her ears and brought her in the arms of a warm embrace. Her eyes widened. "You came. You came."

"What do you mean?"

He sniffed her hair. "Beautiful, unlike me. You are beautiful. I am ugly."

Even when not conscious, his beliefs remained unchanged. He continued to adore her, hissing at any guard that tried to separate the two.

His rough hands pressed on her lips, sliding down the middle of her body to halt above her chest. Iniquity hit the back of his head as he winced and closed his eyes. Indumala was freed from his grip when he fell to the ground and crawled away from her. His body shook, sounds of bones breaking and bending crunching in the air. The fur began going away and the claws vanished. Soon, it was Rudra again. The human Rudra.

For the initial moments, he just sat confused, looking around frantically. A smile graced his lips when he saw Indumala. But then the blood on the floor and the empty chalice warned him of what had happened.

He saw his hands, red and blistered, and felt the tangy taste of his own blood coating the lips.

"Someone had given you silver," Dilrobar said.

Rudra blankly stared at her and the guards. Each turned their head away, refusing to answer his suspicions.

"Indu?" On wobbly knees he walked up to her, only for the heartbreaking epiphany to enlighten him. Her face, smeared with tears, scrunched up when he tried to be close to her.

He nervously laughed. "She didn't see anything, did she?"

"She did, Rudra," Dilrobar said. "She did."

The sky broke over Rudra.

He knelt, not like a Rajan but a beggar. Shoulders slumped, his face was etched with sorrow when the burden of sadness weighed down on him. His hand reached out for Indumala. She shuddered and averted her gaze.

"So, you too?" You too relinquish my affections?

Indumala's eyes fluttered open. "What are you?"

She didn't say who, but what. "I am... I am..."

Choked on his cataclysmic emotions, Rudra uttered a doleful cry that divided the world into two halves, much like his own identity. His yowl made goosebumps pop on the skin of the onlookers. No one had seen the Rajan this shattered. He was a mess of emotions, tears brimming in his eyes. They slithered down as he screamed in agony. He opened his palms, as if begging for alms. "Please," he fought to speak, "forgive me."

Indumala breathed heavily, overwhelmed by the revelation.

The Rajan touched Indumala's feet. She had no place to stagger back anymore; the wall was just behind. She bent down to push him away, but he was too stubborn. "I won't move," he declared. "I need your forgiveness."

"You don't need it," she said between her cries.

"I am a diabolical man. I am not even a man. I am a monster. I am what people are scared of. I am.... I am... " He retracted his hands and clutched his head. "I am despicable. Untouchable. I am sorry for making you sin, Indumala. I befriended you, maligned your purity. Your Baba never wanted you to be near me. He was right, I tell you. I am shunned by the world, and what is hateful to even the most benevolent of gods, to Shiva, is an utter disgrace to life."

Indumala had never expected the night to change its course and lead her to such uncharted waters. She didn't know how to navigate this. The Rajan, her dear friend, was a monster. 

Was he, really?

Rudra curled into a ball. "I am cursed, Indumala. I am cursed. The gods were so disappointed that they labelled me as a repulsive and vile being who could only survive as a monster. This is what I deserve."

"Rudra–"

"You shut up," Rudra pointed his quivering finger at Dilrobar. "Indu doesn't know yet what you are. You are no better than me, Dilrobar. You have killed an innocent soul. You are a murderess. What I am now, is not just because of my own wrath, but also because of your greed. The gods laugh at my love, but they grit teeth when they remember your malicious deeds."

Dilrobar drank all the poison that he had to offer. Veiled was she and her tears. Through the veil she looked at Indumala– oblivious to the truth, standing naked in the face of foul danger. "I haven't killed her," she whispered to herself, so low that even her own ears strained themselves to hear. "But I could have stopped it."

Rudra sat up and heaved a sigh to suppress his shaking feelings. Placing a hand over his rupturing heart, he said, "I promise to you, Indumala, I will always regard you as a friend. I will not hate you for hating me. You may not realise the depth of my care, but I truly seek you out. I am indebted to you for coming into my life. As a Rajan, I pronounce you free from this instant. You need not be my bodyguard anymore. You are free to go wherever you want. You aren't chained to me. You aren't obligated to me. You are as free as a bird. Go, enjoy with your wizard friends. They love you and cherish you–"

With his back towards Indumala, Rudra hadn't watched her approaching. Her delicate hands, so unlike a warrior's, held his forearm. He turned to her. "Indu?"

She was mourning over the truth as badly as him. "You don't love and cherish me?"

"I-I?"

"Yes."

He whimpered. "I do so much." Rudra shrivelled like a nut. "I can't describe how much I need you. I will die–" He paused. A hysterical grin morphed his face. "I can't die ever, Indumala. I am cursed to behold all my loved ones slowly decompose and leave me alone. I am stranded on this island called earth."

"You... You are a werewolf?"

Rudra exhaled. "Yes. An immortal werewolf. I don't have the right to die. It has been snatched away from me."

Indumala took his hands. Devotion sparkled in her eyes. "When you had turned into a werewolf and towered above me, I was frightened." She looked at the guards. "They tried to protect me, your so-called protector, from you. I-I thought you were going to kill me."

Rudra grimaced. "Did I hurt you?"

"No." Indumala smiled through her tears. "And so I can be proud of our bond. You are my best friend, Rudra."

The Rajan gave up the armour he wore and flung himself in her arms. He needed her. And she hugged him in return.

Dilrobar gestured the guards to leave along with her. They hesitated initially, but after the changes they themselves observed in their master, starting from him gifting Indumala the Dhananjaya Sword up until this night, they knew somewhere that giving the two privacy was required. So they all left. Dilrobar closed the door before departing, asking everyone to be on alert but not disturb the two.

Inside the room, the Rajan and his secret love embraced, long estranged lovers united for a flickering pearl of time. He wished to merge with her skin, dive deep into her flesh, lose himself in what constituted her. Rudra hugged her in such urgency that Indumala gasped.

"Don't leave me, Indu. I-I can't be without you," he said. "So many people have abandoned me. Even the woman I thought as my mother for my whole life destroyed it in a mere day. I was given up by all, hated by all, knowing nothing but abhorrence."

"I won't leave you, Rudra. But I would have appreciated had you told me the truth."

"I-I was considering it. I was! That's why I was speaking strangely with you back in your room. Somehow it's always in my head. But I didn't have the guts to confess."

"Fine, I forgive you."

"Are you angry?"

"I am."

"I understand. You were repulsed by my form. It's so nasty."

"It is. I won't deny." Her brows gathered. "But I can't cast you aside. It will crush me. Tomorrow dawn, you are going to tell me everything." At least everything that you can.

"I will. Can you stay with me tonight?"

"I am not a fool that I will leave you."

Without any warning, Rudra grabbed Indumala and carried her to bed, as if she were his bride. For a split second she was regretful of what was happening, but all her barriers broke when he slept beside her and simply cuddled. "I want to be quiet and just stay like this. Please don't mind. Please."

Indumala's body reacted on its own accord, against her better rationale. Throwing caution to the wind, she buried her head in his chest. "Yes."

After a long time did each feel so immensely loved.