Chapter 4

The rain began before dawn.

Not a gentle drizzle, but a relentless, hammering storm that painted the city in shadows. Ishira sat by her window, staring at the drops racing down the glass. Her golden bracelet rested cold and heavy against her skin, the faint pulse beneath it syncing with her heartbeat.

She didn’t sleep much last night—not after the visions. Not after hearing Rudra’s name echo in her dreams like an unspoken oath.

There was a palace once.

And a man who could have saved her.

But didn’t.

---

Arovan Corp – Rudra’s Office

Kael was already there when Rudra walked in, his sharp features lit by the glow of the large digital map spread across the table.

“She’s been moving differently,” Kael reported. “More cautious. More aware.”

Rudra’s jaw tightened. “Zaeron’s telling her things.”

“More than you ever have,” Kael replied.

Rudra’s gaze flicked up sharply. “Because the truth will destroy her.”

Kael smirked slightly. “Or it will destroy you.”

Rudra ignored him, walking to the window. “She doesn’t remember the oath.”

Kael leaned back in his chair. “And what happens if she does?”

Rudra’s voice dropped. “Then she’ll know she wasn’t the only one cursed that night.”

---

Old City Library – Midday

Ishira wandered the dust-covered halls, the scent of ancient parchment heavy in the air. She didn’t know what she was looking for, only that her feet carried her deeper into the restricted archives. Elara had texted her twice already, but Ishira ignored it.

She traced her fingers along the spines of old leather-bound books until one caught her attention.

It was dark crimson, the cover stamped with a crest she had seen in her visions—the sigil of Raelitha.

She pulled it down, coughing as a puff of dust rose. Inside, the pages were filled with handwritten accounts of the kingdom’s fall. And there, in one brittle, yellowed page, was a passage that made her blood run cold:

> The Royal Curse shall bind the last heir to the betrayer by oath and blood. Neither may live free until the other’s fate is sealed.

Her stomach dropped.

Betrayer.

Blood.

Oath.

The words burned.

She slammed the book shut, her hands shaking. That was when she felt it—someone watching her.

---

“Careful, Princess.”

The voice was low, teasing, and far too close. Ishira spun around to find Zaeron leaning against the nearest shelf, a smirk curling his lips.

“How did you—”

“Doors are for people with manners,” he interrupted. “I have other skills.”

She glared at him. “This curse… it’s real?”

Zaeron’s smirk faded. “Oh, very real. And if the oath is broken wrong, the curse will kill you both.”

“Both?” Ishira frowned.

He took a step closer. “You and Rudra.”

Her heart skipped. “No. He’s—he’s the one who—”

Zaeron cut her off. “He’s also the one who swore an oath to protect you. Right before the palace fell.”

---

Ten Years Ago – The Night of the Fall

Flames roared through the marble corridors. Ishira, barely ten, clutched a jeweled dagger too heavy for her small hands. Rudra—young, his eyes softer—stood before her, blood staining his tunic.

“I can’t stop what’s coming,” he said, voice breaking. “But I can make sure you live.”

“You’re with them,” she whispered.

“I’m with you,” he said firmly, gripping her shoulders. “I swear on my blood—no harm will come to you while I live.”

The magic seal burned into existence between them, the golden mark of an oath older than the kingdom itself.

And then… he was gone.

---

Present

Ishira’s breath came fast. “Why would he protect me if he—”

Zaeron shrugged. “Because love and betrayal are twins, Princess. Sometimes you can’t tell them apart until it’s too late.”

She shook her head. “You’re twisting this.”

Zaeron smiled faintly. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I’m the only one willing to tell you the part Rudra won’t.”

---

Rudra’s Private Quarters – Night

Rudra sat alone, staring at a glass of untouched whiskey. Outside, the storm raged, but his thoughts were far darker. He remembered the oath. The heat of the flames. The fear in her eyes.

He had thought she’d never remember. That he could keep her away from the truth long enough to… what?

Save her?

Or save himself?

Kael’s voice broke the silence as he entered without knocking. “We have a problem. She’s found the archives.”

Rudra set the glass down. “Then the clock just started.”

The storm reached its peak just as Ishira stepped out of the library. The streets were nearly empty, rain hammering down in thick sheets, each drop stinging like needles against her skin. She pulled her coat tighter, clutching the crimson book beneath it like a lifeline.

Her phone buzzed again—Elara’s name flashing. She ignored it. The sound of her own heartbeat was louder than the rain.

Every step home felt wrong. Off. Like the city had shifted somehow, and she was walking through someone else’s dream.

And then… she felt it.

A presence.

---

Arovan Corp – Underground Garage

Rudra’s boots echoed on the polished concrete as he strode toward the waiting black car. Kael followed, a black umbrella in one hand, a gun holstered at his side.

“She’s not going to come willingly,” Kael warned.

“She doesn’t need to,” Rudra replied coldly.

“Then what’s the plan?”

Rudra slid into the back seat, steel-gray eyes fixed ahead. “The storm is my plan.”

---

Old Quarter – Abandoned Plaza

Ishira slowed her pace. The air felt heavier here, as though the rain itself had thickened. Her breath fogged in the cold, but the streetlamps flickered in an almost unnatural rhythm.

A car engine purred somewhere behind her. She quickened her steps.

“Going somewhere, Princess?”

The voice stopped her in her tracks.

She turned, the rain dripping from her lashes. There he was.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Black coat clinging to him in the downpour. Steel-gray eyes locked on her like a predator who’d finally found its prey.

Rudra.

---

“I know you,” she said, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart.

His lips curved slightly. “Do you?”

“I’ve seen you—in my dreams. And in the fire.” She stepped back. “You were there the night—”

“The night your world burned,” he finished for her.

She gripped the book tighter. “You could have saved them.”

“I saved you.”

The words hit like thunder.

Her breath caught. “That’s not enough.”

---

Rudra stepped forward, closing the space between them. The rain drummed against his shoulders, sliding down the scar along his jaw.

“You think you understand that night?” His voice was low, dangerous. “You don’t. You saw flames. I saw an army that would have torn you apart. I made a choice.”

“A choice to betray your oath?” she shot back.

Something dark flickered in his eyes. “No. A choice to keep it.”

---

A sharp crack split the air—gunfire.

Rudra reacted instantly, pulling her toward him, shielding her with his body. The bullet shattered the pavement where she had been standing seconds earlier.

Kael’s voice rang out from across the plaza. “We’ve got company!”

Figures emerged from the shadows, dressed in black tactical gear, faces hidden behind masks. They moved like hunters—coordinated, precise.

---

“Who are they?” Ishira demanded.

Rudra didn’t answer. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward the waiting car. “Move.”

She yanked her arm free. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

Another gunshot. This one closer. Rudra spun back, grabbing her again—harder this time.

“This isn’t a choice, Ishira.”

---

Kael fired two quick shots, forcing the attackers to take cover. “We need to go—now!”

Rudra half-dragged, half-led her to the car, shoving her into the back seat before sliding in beside her. The vehicle roared to life, tires screeching against wet asphalt.

Ishira pressed herself against the door, her pulse racing. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere they can’t reach you.”

“And if I don’t want to go?”

Rudra’s gaze met hers, sharp as a blade. “Then you’ll die. And I’m not letting that happen.”

---

Outside, the storm raged on. Inside the car, the tension was electric—two people bound by an oath neither fully understood, but both unwilling to break.

Ishira turned her face to the rain-streaked window, but she could feel his eyes on her. Watching. Calculating. Waiting for the moment she would stop running from him… and from the truth.

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