A/N: i don't think I need to clarify this if you're attuned to my works, but this is a dark romance story, or you can say the vanilla version of dark romance. It doesn't have psychotic characters committing crimes in the name of love, but morally ambiguous, grey people making wrong, selfish choices, and defending them under the name of love or past trauma, sometimes they will take law in hands. so if their choices, thought process bother you, there's very little chance you'll grow to love them despite the character development. Because they're not going to go from inherently ruthless to selflessly kind, maybe somewhere in between.

-• rejected •-

A scoff.

I blink, a little hurt at the response. Surprised at my own reaction to it. I don't feel hurt, not emotionally at least. But hearing her dismiss my words like she was ridiculed by them affected me in ways worse than a punch on my face would.

We're both desperate for each other, we both want to acknowledge the soaring attraction between us, and if it's my commitment towards some other woman stopping her, then I'm willing to severe it and offer it to her. It'll profit us in ways more than one. Alliance with me is a pretty good deal, whether professional or personal. Through this proposal, I'm extending the rights to both. She'll be my partner, in both business and bed. We can work it out through compromise, adjustments and hot sex.

"Is that your non-verbal affirmation?" I look into her eyes.

"No, I'm just amazed how you fit two people in one body."

I raise a confused brow.

"Your arrogance, Shourya, deserves to exist individually." A curt, sarcastic clap back. My lips purse. I tongue the inside of my cheek in amusement.

I understand women are dramatic. They think from heart rather than head. Taranya does it too. She might want a man who'd kiss the floor she walks on, take her out on cute dates, buy her frilly frocks, flirt with her in the kitchen after dinner as they wash dishes, worship her in the bed, run her a bath and kiss her forehead to sleep. I'm none of that, save for the worshipping her in bed part. That I can do. But I haven't ever done romantic shit. I can fake it though.

"It's a good offer. I'm the sole heir of Rajawat Empire, the future King of Rajgarh. You're definitely getting the better end of the deal." My pride speaks.

She crosses her arms on her chest, the action pushes her breasts forward, exposing the generous clevage. I'm sure they're handful. But I want experience rather than imagination.

"I'm not marrying someone just because I'm attracted to them." She states. My eyes flicker up to meet hers. "And I'm definitely not marrying a man who'd rather talk to my boobs than me during an important conversation." There she comes, feisty, sarcastic, my favorite side of her. It turns me on.

"Can you blame me?" I step closer again. Her hands settle on my chest, blocking me from burning the distance between us. She has a habit of pushing me away. I'm going to change it. Soon. "They've more amazing things to offer than your mouth, though if you hold back that smart tongue for a while, I can teach you a few different ways to put it to a good use."

Her cheeks flush a delicious shade of red. I smirk. That prudish ex of her can never reduce her into a mess of blushes and stutters.

"I'll have to deny your gracious offer," she places an elegant hand on her chest, feigning gratitude.

"Why? I can't think of reasons why you'd not say yes to me."

"Surprising. Since I've plenty of them."

"Let me hear you,"

"I'm nineteen."

I resist the roll of my eyes. "Legal. Next."

She sighs. "My family hates your family."

"And despite that, an alliance happened eleven years ago," I counter.

"Which didn't last for more than six months."

"A feat Sara achieved, considering your brother's not really a walk in the park." I tell her.

She narrows her eyes, offended. But doesn't deny. She knows it's true. If someone can tolerate Yuvraaj Singh Chauhan, then it's Yuvraaj Singh Chauhan himself.

"You're already engaged to someone else-"

"Say yes and I'll go break up with her." I suggest.

She blinks, taken aback by how quickly I said that. That shouldn't surprise her. I asked her to marry me. I may be a prick, but I don't fancy Harem.

"I don't like you."

"Understandable. Next,"

Her eyes widen. "Did you not hear me? I don't like you." She repeats, like she's talking to a toddler.

"So?" I shove my hands in my pockets and stand back relaxed. Her eyes fly to check me out, before they run astray to the wall in embarrassment. That was all it needed to boost my ego. If something as simple as standing relaxed can get her to take a double glance at me, I'm worth more than just a flashback. "I want three things in a lifetime partnership, Tara. A mature woman, a sexy woman, and a powerful woman. You're all three."

Her breath hitches visibly.

I remove my right hand from the pocket and place it next to her head. She meets my eyes. And holy fuck, she's a million universes in one glance.

I lean in. She grows rigid. "I want to fuck you all night," her breathing rapids, "Until your throat runs hoarse by hard I make you scream. And then next morning, I want you to stand beside me, poised, firm, graceful, like you didn't perform acrobatics for me in bed just the night before." My index runs along the length of her jaw. It stops under her chin. I tip it up. She keeps her lashes low, unable to look me in the eyes. "I want you to show me my limits, because I intend to cross each one of them." Her stomach sinks, because her chest swells, and her lips fall apart. "I want you to command me, order me, hold me, control me, so I can remind you how much you pissed me off when I get you naked in the bed, begging and wanting me." The lashes unveil, revealing those fierce blues, and I bite my lower lip, because fuck, I crave her, all of her, right in the depths of my body, from the point where I begin, to the point where she fucking ends. "Marry me, Taranya. Marry me and become mine."

"And if I don't?" She challenges openly.

"Destruction shall be my rebirth."

Unexpectedly, her hand comes to touch my cheek. I don't even realise when I remove mine from the pocket and hold the back of her palm. Her skin on mine doesn't feel foreign. That could be why I covet intimacy with her. Every other touch was a threat. But not Tara's. Everytime she comes close, my body caves in, chasing the security she offers. Isn't that pathetic? She's as small as a mouse, and there's no way she can fight off even a mosquito. But in her proximity, an emotional blanket covers me where the coldness slips off, and a cave of all warm things engulfs me.

"I wish I could kiss you right now," she whispers. My heart races in my chest. No, that's an understatement. It jumps and whips and skips, and does a pirouette like a fucking little ballerina.

"Then kiss me." Words brush over lips.

She brings both of her hands on my face, her eyes dazed, hooded with lust. Our breaths mingle. I reduce the remaining space between us. My hands fall on her shoulders.

People say heaven is made up of all good things. Waterfalls, lakes, swings, angels, music, but if you remove all those good things, would it still remain heaven?

I don't know.

But if I strip Taranya off every materialistic accessory right now, she's staying as heaven, because she doesn't need anything except herself to be divine.

"You're made up all wrong things, Shourya." I bend, my forehead rests against her own. We stay connected, the innocent touch transpiring hundred different desires through unsaid. "You're hell." She looks at me pained.

I smile lopsided. "There's two ways we can end this war, either you pull me in your heaven, or I drag you to my hell." And our lips meet with a spark.

Tara gasps, her hands sink to my shoulders. I notice her hesitation. She wants to push me away. Before she decides the right thing, I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her flush against me. Her soft breasts press into my chest, a groan releases from my mouth. I've imagined kissing this woman a thousand times in my head, have dreamt off it to the point my nights were restless, but nothing comes close to the reality of the moment. She doesn't feel like heaven, hell no, she is heaven. Her firm, full lips open wider to breath, and I slip my tongue inside. She moans the sexiest. I don't have experience with women, but I know there's no other woman in this universe who can get me hard as iron with something as simple as a breathless moan. She's achingly addictive.

I taste her until the brim of my desire, and even after it overflows. Now that I know how it feels to kiss her, I can't get enough. I've waited two years. Two years after that night when she first pressed a gentle peck on my lips and called it a kiss. There's so much I want from her. I want to exhaust her, drench her in sweat, make her writhe and cry for me to stop, and when I do, climb back into my arms because no matter how badly she wants to rest, there's no peace without my passion.

She draws back to suck in a breath. I allow her. My lips descend to her jaw. I sprinkle sweet kisses like constellations on her scented skin, my tongue flattening in the hollow of her throat, like heavy, dark cloud filled with desire and everything carnal. She heaves, her bounty breasts pushing against my hard chest, whether to protest or demand, I wouldn't know. But for now, I ignore them. I don't want to scare her off yet.

She squirms as my mouth opens on the slope of her neck, tongue darting out to taste her flesh, teeth nibbling at the wet skin, lips sucking it to swell.

Her fingers threads into my hair, pushes my face into the crook, and I let her. She can suffocate me to death like this and I'll die a fucking happy man.

I come back to her mouth like a starved man, craving my fill of her. She cups my neck, and I hold her waist as she reaches on her tip toes, my other hand planted on the doorframe, supporting us.

We kiss like deprived souls.

We feed off of each other, there's hunger, there's thirst, and there's this overwhelming urge to crush us together, make our identities, our existence, hell our souls, into one entity.

Her hands desperately seek for my body, and when the blazer stops her from feeling me completely, she drags it off my arms. I pull away to discard it, and pin her hands above her head, teaching the needy wanton some patience as I stare down at her.

"Easy, Esther, easy. I'm all yours." I whisper.

My eyes shift as she reveals her toned, tanned leg from the slit, grazes it down my trouser clad thigh, and then folds it around, tugging me closer until our lower bodies brush. I chuckle breathlessly. She's so God damn sexy. And I bet she has no idea about it.

When I dive in to kiss her again, she uses the same leg to push me off. My hand slips from her wrists, her arms fall to sides. I look at her in confusion. I thought we're on the same page now.

I see the lust wear off and sigh. We're back to square one.

"If you think you're stopping me now, you've got hell coming, Esther." I warn her.

She swallows. "When my mother's past was revealed," she licks her lower lip, it's swollen, red, sucked on, and I just want to do it all over again. "I couldn't believe she was in a relationship with a married man." A jab. I freeze. "I couldn't believe she had me despite knowing he has a wife and kids."

"Tara -"

"I didn't live to see Nandini. So far, she was a bitch and I'm not sorry she died. But I can't imagine being in her place. I can't imagine loving a man to the point of insanity only for him to go and rekindle his old relationship."

"I feel nothing for Akansha! Why don't you get it?" I snap. "She's a fucking nuisance."

"But you're still hers." Her eyes tear up.

I suck in a deep breath. "Tara," my voice softens.

"I kissed you." She cuts me off. "I just became Scarlett in another Nandini's life."

I close my eyes tiredly. And open them to look at her. "Promise to be mine, and I'll end it with her."

"No, Shourya," she shakes her head. "I don't have to hold your hand for you to leave hers."

"Tara, it's business -"

"You know what this whole scenario feels like? That if I don't agree to you now, you'll go back to her. And I don't want to live in constant fear. That if I don't keep trying, that if I don't keep clinging to you, you'll leave because you have too many options." Her words hit me like a brick. That's not true. "I'm nineteen, Shourya. Stop being selfish and look from my perspective. Your goal is not mine. I've dreams, and I've time. I'm not about to rush into anything because you want things at your pace."

I release a strangled sigh.

"You want a lifetime commitment from a person you're only sexually attracted to. I don't know your version of healthy relationship, but this is definitely not mine." She states firmly. I like that attitude on her, but not when it's to argue with me.

I try to talk sense. "We'll work it out. It has too many benefits to be discarded so-"

"I like someone else."

Now it's my time to scoff. "You just kissed me like you can't wait to get in the bed with me. Fool someone else with that bullshit."

She breaths out. "I'm not lying. I'm being honest."

I roll my eyes. "Tara, look-"

"His name is Rudra." I pause. My guts wrenching painfully in my stomach. "I accidentally said his name that night in the camp." She sucks her lower lip under the canines. Fuck, her confession just made me hard. She likes me. She likes me. She has liked me with every identity I put on. She really likes me, not just my looks, or my actions, or my words. She likes me for me. "I know you know him." I look away. "I've never felt more than sexual attraction towards you." Liar. "Let's stop this, Shourya. Please. I don't want to drown in guilt anymore."

"I can't break up with Akansha to chase you openly." I tell her. Her eyes dull even more.

Nothing more than sexual attraction my ass.

"I'll wait for you until the last moment." I add softly.

I had an ultimatum. From the Chairman.

Either Taranya, or Akansha. And since I can't get her to commit to me officially, I'll have to settle on Akansha. I hope she changes her mind before we're officially introduced to the world as a couple prepared to marry.

"Even if it's right before I put a ring on her finger, I'll hold your hand if you reach out to hold mine."

"You're an asshole." She says sourly.

I know. I get that alot.

A knock on the door startles us. We both look at each other in panic, before I'm rushing around to find a place to hide.

"I know you guys are in here!" I stop. My eyes narrow in slit. Janet fucking Williams.

Tara sighs in relief and opens the door. Janet barges in. "Ooh la la," her eyes latch on me, straying towards the discarded blazer on the floor, and it's not a rocket science what we were upto before Tara decided to convert into Mother Teresa. I give Janet an annoyed look. "Don't look at me like that. I'm here to save your ass, you dumbfuck." She swears. "Tara, you brothers are looking for you. Leave before they get into mad rage and transform into wolves." She ushers my woman out.

My woman? Seriously, shut up, Shourya.

Taranya looks at me with longing, as if she knows once she steps out of here, it's over for us. I wish she doesn't. I wish she comes and holds my hand, and claims me as hers. I'm ready to swear my loyalty to this woman for the rest of my life. All I need in exchange is her support as a Chauhan, her power, her trust, and her body.

Suddenly, all my plans about her wither away.

I've always relied on strategies to get things done. And I've seen success most of the times.

It took me a kiss and a rejection to realise Taranya cannot be won over by planning and strategies. She wants genuine and I'm an epitome of lies and deception.

She takes a breath and opens her mouth to say something. I look at her hopefully. "If you meet Rudra, can you tell him to talk to me one last time? Please." I frown.

And what about us?

I don't know whether I'm pleased or disappointed.

I'm here, as Shourya, offering you a stable relationship.

And you still think about him? Who I want to bury in my past? Who lived like a dirty secret of these elite royals for over eighteen years?

Why?

Why not me as Shourya?

Why me as Rudra?

Why not the one I've sinned to become?

Why the one I've been dying to forget?

My knuckles tremble by how hard I clench my fists. "He's dead." I answer. And it's not a lie. Rudra is dead. That secret is buried deep in my heart. And it'll never resurrect. He doesn't need to live anymore. I'm stronger as Shourya, more powerful, and I deserve this.

I've lived eighteen years of hardships. I've been abused, raped, tossed around, played with, used and weaponized as Rudra, and I'm not about to reopen the closets to reveal the rotting skeletons.

"He's not." She smiles softly.

I feel my heart stop for a split second.

Her best friend looks between us awkwardly. Then ducks, "I'll wait outside." The door closes. Tara and I. Together again.

"I've no means to reach him, and I don't know where I can find him. But I owe him. He has saved me multiple times." She speaks fondly, and even though she's saying all that for me, I feel ashamed to own it. "He was much like you."

Exactly. So why not me?

"But he was real, well, at least as real as the night can be."

I scoff. He was a liar. He still is.

She locks my gaze. "I've so many questions to ask him. And I really miss him." My stomach drops at her confession.

Just look, God damn it. I'm right here. It's me.

"Why him?"

She shrugs. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" I furrow. "You're rejecting me for someone else and you don't know why?"

"Pathetic, right?" She smiles humorlessly. "One reason was enough to hate you, a thousand fell short when it came to him."

I clench my jaw tightly.

"The kiss was a mistake." She states and my body stiffens. I expected that. I just didn't expect the blow to my guts. "We're a mistake. I hope you have a happy future with Akansha. Bye."

Then she leaves.

Breaking me apart, piecing me back together, and then breaking me apart again.

God, the angst 😩🦋

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