Separation increases the thirst.

****

When Rudra and Indumala returned to Ishgar from Revat, they had already grown into something deeper, more than a Rajan and his bodyguard. Although the journey had begun way before (truthfully, lifetimes) one could see the stark visible changes only at present. Now, they didn't shy away from rubbing against each other and holding hands, exuding a carefree and nonchalant attitude in love even in front of the ministers.

Rumours of their intensifying bond spread like forest fire. Indumala was often put on a pedestal and questioned. The curious seekers paid no heed to the discomfort faced by Indumala, buckling on her knees and tripping on her words. They poked her with every flagrant inquiry into the intimacy she shared with the Rajan, the extent of their loyalties– well, to express more explicitly, if the Rajan was still involved with Dilrobar or had he removed his mistress to accomodate Indumala? Perhaps it was the other way round– Indumala was the mistress, using this chance to elevate her status and solidify her position as a bodyguard. And how much had she compromised to cater to the ravenous needs of the Rajan? He was supposedly a very possesive and violent lover.

Indumala sat in the Hall of Intellect along with a few women, waiting for Rudra to arrive. She found it hard to control her temper, but she didn't give in to the anger any moment. She knew it was a delicate matter. To be the beloved of the Rajan, of course, would mean painting her reputation with some black spots. People liked to indulge themselves in the spicy talk of the royals. She herself had done a bit of the same when she paired Dilrobar and Rudra. Indumala pitied not only the people around her whose only entertainment were prurient discussions of Rudra's life, but also her own past self.

Finally, Rudra graced the hall, followed by Dilrobar behind him. Upon seeing Indumala, he smiled and twirled a lock of her hair. She craned her head to feel better his touch. But the alert eyes around, watching them like vultures, made her wriggle her fingers. The women of the palace had considered Dilrobar as the bed mate of the Rajan, and for her to be shoved away now, seemed unthoughtful. Indumala knew many would thus see her as a home-wrecker, even though Dilrobar had never created a home with the Rajan.

"I heard from Dilrobar that you have seen her face," Rudra said. "But you don't know who did it."

"No, I don't."

Rudra pulled Indumala to sit beside him. "Do you remember Madrik?"

She squinted. "Yes, I saw him in Revat. The commander-in-chief of Hamal's army."

"That is the man, Indu. That is the man who ruined Dilrobar."

Rudra's voice was deliberately loud. Indumala was puzzled why he wasn't hesitating to make it known to the other women in the hall. Maybe because everyone deserved to know the truth. Maybe because it was time.

"It is for him that she has vowed to use the veil. And in the ensuing war with Hamal, I will kill Madrik, bring her head to Dilrobar. In his blood she shall bathe and then leave her veil, forever."

"It is not just for me that this war should be won," Dilrobar added. "I am just an ally, someone who escaped the odious land of Revat and came here to survive. In return for shelter, I help, I give information. I had known Revat for years, longer than Hamal himself."

It makes sense, Indumala thought. It was a whole lot of depth to take in. But the element of fire had already haunted and mesmerised Indumala. It made her stomach twist to even imagine the flames licking her skin, turning it to soot and ashes. Dilrobar had felt it first hand.

"If the war has to be won, I am not the primary reason. The scar that I carry on my face is a testament of what happens to wrongdoers. If Madrik dies, it will be the gift to my redemption. But if Revat is to be conquered, then I will call you the reason, Indumala. It is for you that Revat should be freed from Hamal."

"Why me?"

"You are everything," Rudra whispered.

Dilrobar heaved a sigh. "Ask yourself, Indu, why you. The answer lies within yourself."

Why me?

Her soul knew Revat was a place she didn't visit for the first time. Laying on this realisation was the mystery of the name Petra, the girl burning in the fire, coupled with the knowledge of Rudra and Dilrobar, who seemed to know so much more about Indu than she herself did.

Memories of the past were returning. Indu grasped Rudra's palm, interlocking their fingers in a tangled mess of companionship. In his eyes she saw hope, in his smile she gained strength, and when his breath placed a phantom kiss on her lips, she knew where she had to look to when in pain.

It was inevitable. She would have to remember what had happened before she was born. She would have to go through the turmoil a second time.

"I am there with you," Rudra said.

That was all she needed to know.

****

Indumala was just enjoying the wind and reading a book she had borrowed from Rudra's collection when Dilrobar came to her.

"Would you go and give him these?"

It was a pair of loose trousers. Nothing else.

"To whom? Rudra?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Where is he?"

"Taking a bath."

Even though Dilrobar was veiled, Indumala could clearly ascertain a smirk. "Are there no servants?"

"He will like it more if you visit him."

"People are talking behind our backs. Some have even disrespected me for associating myself with Rudra."

"So... you are going to break up with him?"

"No." She clicked her tongue. "I don't mean that. I wanted to say we should maintain a decorum. Some things can happen later."

"You are so scared of loving, Indu. Why?"

"I am not. I am just cautious."

"Not listening to any of your excuses." Dilrobar crossed her arms. "You will go to him, or else he needs to come out dripping wet and naked. You surely don't want everybody to see your lover in all his raw glory?"

Indumala reddened face rivalled dawn. "I will ask a servant to–"

"I have dismissed all the servants from going near the bathhouse. There's not much security there even on normal days."

Indumala groaned. "You are mischievous!"

"So what? I am. Now don't be late."

Having no other choice, Indumala reached the bathhouse with the trouser. A part of her was mortified by the probability of standing in front of a purely naked Rudra. She wasn't yet ready for it. After some thinking, she walked into the bathhouse with her back facing the view.

"Oh, Indu? What a pleasant surprise!"

Don't ask me to turn back. "I-I came here to give you trousers."

"So kind of you. Little one, come on, look at me!" Rudra screeched in joy. "If you have come this far, please see me–"

"I am not going to see you naked. We aren't married."

Rudra chuckled. "Fool! I am wearing a loincloth. I was waiting for someone to bring me my clothes. Turn back and see me."

Indumala slowly faced him. And oh Shiva, what a sight.

He was a colossus of sinew and strength, his camphor-fair skin glistening in the golden light like polished armor. Each movement was a symphony of power, muscles peeking like smooth mounds of earth. Droplets of water glided down his hairy chest. Indumala's gaze was frozen there, and she suddenly noticed what she had missed all these days.

Pink. His buds were pink, a rosy shade, perfect to suck on.

She wondered why she could have not seen this perfection earlier. Ah, she had never observed him with such devotion before.

His lips are plump and pink. His little buds are pink. So much pink. What else...can be pink?

Her eyes travelled down to his groin area.

"Where are you looking, little one?"

She jerked her head up. He was a towering personality. So tall. So big. So huge.

Big and pink. Scandalous.

"Take this trouser. Bye." Indumala threw the thing at him and hastily walked towards the door. Unfortunately, she was enough for Rudra to scoop up in a go, and he carried her over his shoulder. Before she knew, he had jumped back in the waters.

Indumala shouted, "I had just taken a bath and now I am wet again!"

"We will get wet together."

"Stop with your nasty thoughts!"

"You were staring down there." He patted his hardened wood. "I took the chance."

"We are not married."

He pinned her to his chest, one hand grabbing her butt and another resting on her waist. "I know. I will wait."

"So you are going to marry me?"

"Absolutely."

Indumala dropped her head and nuzzled his chest. "Tell me why you fell in love with me."

It hit Rudra. Her words, shaped to be an arrow, pierced his heart. It bled profusely, colouring his mind in sacred ichor.

He wasn't ready to love her. No, he was being pulled towards her mercilessly, for the heart and the head rarely agreed. He was falling for her even before he could comprehend. But, he had refused to fall further. He had chained himself. To him then, Indumala wasn't Petra.

"There is a reason why I began loving you, or to put in a better way, acknowledging that I love you."

He gulped. It had begun with a condition. When he realised that Indumala was no one but Petra reborn, he ventured towards her. It took time, but he effortlessly blended with her life.

Now, he asked himself – what if Indumala wasn't Petra? Then what?

"I will be honest, I wouldn't have loved you. It all changed one day, when I saw in you a wish. A wish that I craved. A wish that I wanted fulfilled. I was madly, deeply in love with you even before that, but the confirmation of you being a fated blessing meant we deserved each other."

"What if one day I cease being that wish?"

Rudra cupped her face. I knew you will say this. "I can't lose one wish for another," he said, drawing himself closer to her lips. "It's bittersweet. Perhaps some wishes are meant to be mere dreams. And some unexpected ones dare to come to fruition."

"You...you are too close."

"I can't help it. I have longed for you, little one."

Their noses rubbed. Indumala gasped. Her hands had a will of their own, having circled themselves around his neck. He was breathing heavily, waiting for her consent.

She closed her eyes. Let it happen.

Rudra sealed their mouths together. He pressed on her lower lip, kissing her from every angle possible. His tongue collided with hers. A moan escaped her lips, and he murmured a confession softly, "I love you."

There could not have been a better moment than this. His wolf was satiated, ready to leave behind all treacherous aggression and flesh-eating. If he had something so precious as Indumala, why would he care to degrade himself?

Yes, he was a monster. But monsters can love too. They have a heart and they can improve. So will I.

"Let me breathe." Indumala broke the kiss.

"I want some more, Indu. Please."

"No. This is enough."

"It isn't!" He frowned. "I won't listen."

Passion collapsed into kisses. His tongue traced the line of her lips. Indumala was overwhelmed with a trinity of emotions– love, diffidence and a carnal hunger. Nervousness manoeuvred through her shaking fingers. Rudra captured her quivering lips with a mastery she was yet to learn. She liked the taste of his skin and the fresh smell of milk and honey, the cool drops evaporating in the heat of their urges, although she was shy of such proximity. He wasn't stopping, sparing no chance for her to gather a moment. At last, she pushed him back.

"Werewolves can be uncontrollable, sometimes," he said, wiping his lips. "But it's not because of that. For this, I blame you."

"As if I have been making you wait for years."

"You deserve sixteen more kisses, Indu. For the sixteen years I didn't–"

He paused. Oh no.

I said too much.

But by the look on her face, she didn't appear to be too shocked.

"Your words add on to the questions I have."

"Pray tell me more." Rudra's pupils enlarged.

She averted her gaze. "About what I was once. Before being Indumala. When this body didn't belong to me."

"You were born from the incomplete memories I cradled. I had sinned, I had made grave mistakes. You came as my key to redemption. You came as my medicine, to heal a disease that shall never stop perturbing me."

"Your poetry does not constitute an answer, Rudra."

"My lovely maiden, that is all I can say at present. Time will tell us when to lay bare the secrets."

Indumala grinned. "Like you are now?"

Rudra raised a brow, very much amused. A cute half-smile played on his face. "You like this, don't you?"

"I wouldn't lie..."

"I like how soft you are. Feels like butter. Your lips resemble a doll's. And your pretty back? It fits in my hand like it was made for me. And–"

"Fine. I have had enough for today."

Rudra and Indumala got up from the waters and dried themselves. "You need a new pair of clothes," he said. "Let me bring them for you."

Indumala closed her eyes as Rudra changed into his trousers. He gave her another peck before going to fetch her a dress.

The mage swung her dainty legs and laughed at how lovely love was.