Chapter Text
Varadha POV:
The room is dim, the only light coming from the flickering screens that line the walls. I stand in the center, my gaze fixed on the largest monitor, where the live feed shows Aadhya being dragged toward the truck, her struggles futile against the brute force of her captors. The chaos is palpable, a scene of panic and desperation playing out in front of me.
But what catches my attention more than the girl’s plight is the figure standing off to the side, still as a statue amidst the turmoil. Deva. My Deva. His eyes are locked on the scene before him, yet he doesn’t move. He stands there, rigid, as if the whole world has come to a stop, and he is its unmoving center.
A dark, twisted part of me feels a sick satisfaction at this sight. He doesn’t care about the girl. He’s not rushing to her aid, not playing the hero. Instead, he’s choosing not to involve himself, to stay detached, just as I’ve always feared he would if I pushed him too far.
And yet, this dark satisfaction is only half of what I feel. Beneath it, deeper and more desperate, there’s a longing, a need that gnaws at my insides. I want this—no, I need this—to be the moment that forces Deva back to me. I need this to be the opportunity to right all the wrongs, to beg for his forgiveness, to fix what I’ve broken.
My fingers twitch with the urge to reach out, to grab him, pull him through the screen and back into my arms where he belongs. But I know I can’t do that. Not yet.
I watch him, my eyes tracing every detail of his stance, the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clench and unclench as if he’s waging a war within himself. I know him better than anyone, and I can see the struggle tearing him apart. It’s a battle between the man he’s become and the man he used to be—the man I helped shape.
A part of me relishes in the fact that he’s struggling, that he’s torn between his own desires and the sense of duty that has always driven him. But another part—the part that’s consumed with obsession, with a need to possess him completely—wants to reach out and soothe that turmoil, to remind him that he doesn’t have to fight this battle alone. That I’m here, waiting, ready to make amends if he’ll just let me.
I lean closer to the screen, my breath fogging the glass as I whisper, “Come back to me, Deva. Let me fix this. Let me fix us.”
But he doesn’t hear me. He’s too far away, too lost in his own thoughts to notice the plea in my voice. The desperation that claws at me, begging to be acknowledged.
I can’t stand it—this distance, this silence. I need him to come back to Khansaar, where I can finally make things right. Where I can show him that no matter how dark and twisted our past might be, there’s still a chance for us. A chance for me to be the man he deserves, the man he once loved.
But I know that won’t happen on its own. I have to force it, have to use this moment to push him back into my world, into my arms. And I will. I’ll use every resource at my disposal, every ounce of power I have, to make sure he has no choice but to return to me.
And when he does, I’ll beg for his forgiveness. I’ll get on my knees if I have to, if that’s what it takes to earn back his love, his trust. I’ll tear down the walls I’ve built around myself, show him the broken, desperate man I’ve become without him.
I glance back at the screen, my eyes narrowing as I watch the goons drag Aadhya closer to the truck. The opportunity is slipping away, but I won’t let it. I’ll use this girl, this situation, to force Deva back to Khansaar, back to where he belongs.
I’ll make him see that no matter what he does, no matter how far he runs, he’ll always be mine. And once he’s back, I’ll never let him go again.
With a final, resolute breath, I turn away from the screens, already formulating the plan in my mind. I’ll make sure Deva comes back to me. And when he does, I’ll make sure he knows that he can never leave.
Deva POV:
The car hums beneath me, the smooth purr of the engine doing nothing to ease the storm brewing inside. I stare out the window, watching the landscape blur by, but I don’t really see it. My mind is too consumed by the thoughts of where I’m headed, of the man waiting for me at the end of this journey.
Khansaar.
I never wanted to return. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t. And yet here I am, trapped in the backseat of this car, surrounded by a convoy of security vehicles, like I’m some kind of prisoner being escorted back to my cell. The irony isn’t lost on me. I’m going back to the place that holds all my nightmares, all my worst memories, and I’m doing it because I have no other choice.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not angry. The anger burns inside me, hot and relentless, a fire that refuses to be extinguished no matter how much I try to push it down. I can feel it simmering in my veins, tightening my grip on the seat, making my chest ache with the force of it.
Varadha.
The name alone is enough to make my blood boil. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to be anywhere near him. The thought of facing him again, of looking into those eyes that once held so much promise and now only remind me of everything that’s been broken—it makes me sick.
I clench my jaw, my teeth grinding together as I try to reign in the anger, but it’s no use. The closer we get to Khansaar, the more it grows, feeding off my memories, my fears, my regrets.
I glance ahead, seeing the line of cars stretching out before us, and another behind. It’s a show of power, of control, of Varadha’s ability to reach out and pull me back whenever he wants. It’s infuriating. I’m not some pawn to be moved around at his whim, not anymore.
But I’m going back. I’m letting myself be pulled back into his world, and I hate myself for it.
Aadhya’s face flashes in my mind, the fear in her eyes, the desperation. I’m doing this for her, I remind myself, not for him. Never for him. But it doesn’t change the fact that this is exactly what he wanted. He’s probably sitting there, waiting for me, knowing that he’s won. Again.
I lean my head back against the seat, closing my eyes as I try to push the anger down, but it keeps bubbling up, refusing to be silenced. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to face him. But I know I have to. And that knowledge only fuels my rage.
Khansaar looms ahead, a city full of ghosts and shadows, and at its heart, the man who holds all my anger, all my resentment. The man I once thought I could trust, the man I once loved.
But that’s all in the past. I won’t let him control me again. I won’t let him break me, not this time.
I open my eyes, staring ahead at the road as it stretches out before us, leading me back to the place I swore I’d never return to. The anger burns hotter, but I hold onto it, letting it drive me forward, letting it fuel my resolve.
I’m going back to Khansaar. But I’m not going back to him.
