Chapter 1 - The Wedding of Hate
The sound of wedding bells echoed through the grand hall, but for her… it felt like chains tightening around her heart.
Ishita sat quietly, her hands trembling under the heavy red bridal lehenga. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away.
This was not how she imagined her wedding.
Not like this.
Not with him.
On the other side, Rudra Rajput stood like a storm waiting to break. His jaw clenched, eyes cold, filled with anger… not even a hint of acceptance.
This marriage was not his choice.
It was forced.
And he hated it.
“Get up. It’s time,” someone whispered.
Ishita slowly stood up, her legs weak. Every step towards the mandap felt heavier than the last… like she was walking toward a life she never chose.
As she reached there, her eyes accidentally met his.
Rudra looked at her… not like a groom looks at his bride.
But like she was a mistake.
The rituals began.
Fire burned between them, but there was no warmth—only distance.
When Rudra held her hand for the pheras, his grip was tight… almost painful.
Not gentle.
Not loving.
Possessive… yet full of anger.
“From today, you are husband and wife.”
Those words echoed loudly.
But for them, it felt like a curse.
Later that night…
Ishita entered the room slowly, her heart pounding. The room was decorated beautifully, roses everywhere… but the air felt suffocating.
Rudra stood near the window, his back facing her.
Silence.
Heavy. Unbearable silence.
She gathered courage.
“Rudra ji…” her voice was soft, shaking.
He turned.
His eyes were dark.
Dangerous.
“Don’t.” he said coldly.
Her breath hitched.
“I didn’t want this marriage,” he continued, walking toward her slowly. “And don’t even think that I’ll accept you as my wife.”
Each word hit her like a slap.
“I… I didn’t want this either,” she whispered, tears finally falling.
He laughed bitterly.
“Then suffer.”
He came closer… too close.
“I’ll make sure you regret this marriage every single day.”
Her hands clenched tightly.
But she didn’t step back.
“I may be unwanted in your life…” she said softly, looking into his eyes despite her fear,
“but I will never beg for your love.”
For a moment… just a moment… Rudra was taken aback.
But then his expression hardened again.
“Good,” he smirked. “Because you’ll never get it.”
That night…
Two strangers slept in the same room.
Bound by marriage.
Separated by hate.
And somewhere between pain and pride…
a story began.
Not of love.But of war.
To be continued…
