Chapter 47: 🪭✨ 40. "Indu, step away from him."

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Ivaan, still catching his breath, turned to her. “He was going to kill you, Indu. I—”

“No!” she screamed, backing away. “You’re a monster! You didn’t even hesitate!”

Her panicking in this situation wasn’t helping Ivaan didn’t even know if Vikram had any accomplice. “Indu, listen to me—”

“No!” she yelled again, tears streaming down her face. “You think you can control everything, even me.”

Ivaan took a step closer, his expression anguished. “Indu I swear, I only wanted to protect you. He was going to kill you!”

“Stay away from me!” she sobbed getting her dagger out the moment Ivaan extented his arm toward her she slashed her dagger slicing through his palm, retreating into the forest.

Ivaan stood alone, blood dripping from his blade and his own hand, the weight of her accusation heavy on him.

The forest swallowed Indu’s cries as she ran as fast as she could

Indu didn’t know when her legs began to move, but the next thing she was aware of was the rough terrain beneath her feet.

Branches tore at her clothes, leaves whipped her face, and her breath came in ragged gasps. The forest seemed alive, pressing in around her with every step.

Her thoughts were a chaotic blur: Vikram is dead. Ivaan killed him. But why?

Behind her, she thought she heard footsteps—heavy, relentless. Her heart raced as panic seized her. Was it the same Prince Ivaan who had saved her? Was it something else?

“Indu!” Ivaan’s voice called out, distant but urgent.

She ignored it, her mind spinning. He can’t be trusted. He’s no different as the rumours about him ruthless evil, a monster—controlling, cold, and calculating.

A flash of movement caught her eye to her left, and she stumbled, her foot catching on an exposed root. She hit the ground hard, her palms scraping against jagged stones. For a moment, everything seemed still except the pounding of her heart.

Then came the sound again—closer this time.

“Indu,” a voice whispered, softer now, almost tender. “You shouldn’t be out here alone. It’s dangerous.”

Her head snapped up. It was Vikram’s voice. But that was impossible.

“Vikram?” she croaked, her throat raw from the cold air and her earlier screams.

He stepped into view, his familiar grin intact but somehow wrong. “Who else would it be?” he asked, extending a hand to help her up.

Indu hesitated, her mind screaming that something wasn’t right. But his hand was steady, his gaze warm. “I knew you’d run,” he said softly, pulling her to her feet. “It’s what anyone would do after seeing what that Prince Ivaan did.”

Her knees wobbled beneath her. “He—he killed you. I saw it.”

Vikram chuckled, though the sound was strained. “Killed me? Come now, Indu. Do I look dead to you?”

His words were like a balm to her frayed nerves, and she felt herself relax despite the gnawing unease in her chest. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip reassuring hile blood was dripping down his had tied down his cloak around his wound. “Ivaan’s losing control, Indu. You saw it yourself. He’s dangerous.”

She wanted to believe him, but flashes of the fight flickered in her mind—the way Vikram’s dagger had gleamed against her throat, the way she had to push him away the venom in his voice.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why would Ivaan—”

“Because he’s obsessed and jealous,” Vikram interrupted smoothly, his voice dripping with sympathy. “He can’t stand the thought of anyone else earning your trust. He’s jealous, Indu. He thinks of you as a prize, not a person.”

Indu’s head spun. “But… you had a dagger… you— you accused him….”

Vikram’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “Indu stay focused,” he said, his tone turning defensive. “I was protecting you. If Ivaan hadn’t jumped to conclusions—”

A branch snapped behind them.

Indu whirled, her heart leaping into her throat. In the shadows, a figure loomed, sword gleaming faintly in the dim light.

“Ivaan,” she breathed, her voice trembling.

He stepped forward, his face etched with exhaustion and pain. “Indu, step away from him.”

Vikram tensed beside her, his hand dropping to his side. “Don’t listen to him, Indu. He’s trying to confuse you.”

Indu’s gaze darted between them clutching her dagger hard, her mind reeling. “I—I don’t understand know who to believe.”

Ivaan’s voice softened, his eyes pleading. “ Indu. You should know by I would never hurt you.”

“He already has!” Vikram spat, stepping protectively in front of her. “Do you think it’s a coincidence he keeps drawing his sword every time you’re with me? He’s losing his grip, Indu. He’s dangerous.”

Indu’s legs felt like jelly as the tension between the two men crackled like lightning. “Please, stop,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

Vikram’s hand slid to his belt, where a second dagger was hidden. Indu caught the movement too late.

In one swift motion, he spun, the blade arcing toward her.

“Indu!” Ivaan roared, lunging forward. His sword met Vikram’s dagger mid-swing, the clang of steel ringing through the air.

Vikram snarled, his charming façade crumbling entirely. “You should’ve stayed out of this, Prince. She doesn’t need you!”

Ivaan didn’t reply, his focus entirely on disarming Vikram. The two clashed ferociously again, their movements a deadly dance of precision and fury.

Indu scrambled back, her mind unable to recoginse who to believe.

The fight raged on, but Ivaan found his opening. With a decisive swing, his blade cut through Vikram’s defenses and buried itself deep into his chest the second time he hadnt wished to kill him before, but Ivaan couldn’t believe how stubborn Vikram was acting he would Kill Indu at any cost, even at the cost of his life.

Vikram gasped, his dagger falling from his hand. Blood seeped through his tunic as he staggered back, his eyes locking onto Indu one last time.

“I… was trying to help you,” he rasped before collapsing.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Ivaan turned to Indu, his sword still slick with blood. “Indu, are you hurt?”

She didn’t answer. Her eyes were locked on Vikram’s lifeless form, the realization of how close she had come to death sinking in.

“You killed him,” she whispered, her voice hollow.

“I had no choice,” Ivaan said, his voice thick with emotion. “He was going to kill you, Indu. You saw it.”

But her mind was too overwhelmed, her trust in everything shattered. “I don’t know what I saw,” she said, backing away. “I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“Indu—”

“No!” she cried, tears streaming down her face.

Indu’s voice quivered as she stepped back, her tear-streaked face contorted in anguish. “You’re insane, Ivaan. Ever since you came into my life, I haven’t had a single moment of peace. First, you demanded marriage to prevent a war—a war you claimed was inevitable unless I agreed. I sacrificed everything for that. My freedom. My dreams. My life. But even that wasn’t enough for you, was it?”

Ivaan’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. Her words hit like daggers, each one cutting through layers of carefully constructed defenses. He opened his mouth to respond, but her voice rose again, trembling with fury.

“You think you’re protecting me? Is that what this is? Or is it just your pride? Your need to control everything—even me!” Her tears spilled freely now, her chest heaving with the weight of her pain. “Will you kill every man who comes near me, Ivaan? Is that your idea of love and marriage is? Of loyalty?”

His breath caught, the word love like a hot iron against his chest. “Don’t twist this,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and strained. “I’ve done nothing but protect you. Everything I’ve done, Indu, was to keep you alive.”

Indu shook her head, the rawness in her voice cutting deeper. “You’re not protecting me. You’re suffocating me. You don’t care about me—you care about owning me, about making sure I belong to no one else.”

Her accusation tore through him like a blade. His lips parted, his voice faltering. “You think… you think I want this?” he said, his tone breaking for the first time. “You think I chose to be the man I am? To carry the weight of a kingdom on my shoulders? Every battle I’ve fought, every life I’ve taken—it was for duty, for survival.”

“For Survival?” she echoed, her voice rising. “You call this Duty, Ivaan? And what about me? What about dragging me into your war? Killing anyone who gets too close? You’ve turned my life into a prison. And for what? Your pride?”

He took a step forward, his expression darkening with a mix of desperation and anger. “I’ve bled for you, Indu. I’ve killed for you. And you think this is pride? This is survival. This is the only way I I know.”

“Exactly Prince, Ivaan that’s the only way you know, you have never know a what love is? Survive? All you are is selfish ?” she cried. “You were protect me ? From the world? From men like Vikram? Or just from your own jealousy?”

Her words hit him harder than any weapon ever could. He stood frozen, his fists clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

And then, faintly at first, the sound of hooves reached them. Indu turned her head, tears still glistening on her cheeks, as the noise grew louder. A party of riders emerged from the trees—her minister, her maids, and a handful of soldiers. Relief washed over their faces as they saw her, but it was quickly replaced by horror as their eyes fell on the blood-smeared scene before them.

“Princess!” the minister Rajnath called out, his voice breaking with a mixture of relief and dread.

Sneha One of the maids let out a shrill scream, her hands flying to her mouth as she saw the blood staining Indu’s gown and the torn edges of her attire. “My lady! Are you hurt?”

Indu shook her head frantically, her words stumbling over each other. “No. No, it’s not my blood. It’s not—I am saf-” Indu looked at Ivaan the irony of this situation was she was safe and alive with Ivaan.

Her words faltered as the minister’s gaze shifted to the lifeless body of Vikram, his face contorted in eternal shock, his head resting separate from his body in a pool of crimson.

The maids rushed to Indu’s side, draping a shawl over her trembling shoulders. The minister approached cautiously, his eyes flicking to Ivaan, who stood still, his palm still dripping with blood.

“Your Highness,” the minister said carefully, his tone laced with restrained panic, “we need to leave. Now.”

Indu stepped forward, her face a mask of fury and grief. “Ivaan,” she began, her voice breaking. “For one moment… just one moment, I thought you were different. I thought you had a heart. But you’re just like everyone else said—a ruthless monster. A tyrant who cares for nothing and no one.”

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(My sweet girl is in danger)