CHAPTER 12: Part 3 (CLAIMING THE HORIZON)
~ISHIKA (POV)~
The world was made of silk and sandalwood.
I was blindfolded, my senses narrowed down to the feeling of Mrityunjay's hand on the small of my back and the crunch of dry grass beneath my flats.
"Mrityunjay, please," I whispered, my voice trembling. "My heart is doing things it wasn't designed to do. If this is a cliff, I'd like a five-minute warning to prepare my soul."
"Trust me, Little Rabbit," he murmured, his voice a low, dark caress.
He stopped. I felt the heat of a flame somewhere nearby-a rhythmic, roaring whoosh that made me flinch. Gently, he untied the silk ribbon.
I blinked. In the center of the vast, violet field, a massive balloon was being birthed by fire. It was beautiful-deep crimson and gold, glowing against the pre-dawn sky like a fallen star.
"A... a balloon?" I squeaked. I looked at the tiny wicker basket and then at the infinite, empty sky. My legs turned to water. "No. Absolutely not. I am a creature of the earth, Mrityunjay. I like floorboards. I like dirt. I do not like... that."
"You said you wanted to escape," he said, stepping into my space. He didn't look at the balloon; he looked at me, his green eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "The only way to escape the world is to leave it."
"I can leave it from a park bench! Reading my books!"
He didn't argue. He simply leaned down, hooked his arm under my knees, and lifted me with one hand. I let out a yelp, clutching his neck as he stepped over the edge of the basket.
As the pilot pulled the cord and the ground began to drop away, the terror hit me. I didn't just close my eyes; I tried to climb him. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my fingers fisting into his black shirt.
"Don't let me go," I whimpered into his skin. "Mrityunjay, please don't let me go."
"I have you, Ishika," he whispered. His arms were like iron bands around me, pinning me to his chest. He was so solid, so unmoving, that the swaying of the basket didn't seem to matter. "Look at me. Only at me."
I peeked up. We were rising into a silence so profound it felt like the world had held its breath. The city of Jodhpur was a toy set below us. The sun cracked over the horizon, turning the desert into a sea of liquid gold.
It was a dream. For the first time, the weight of being a Jaiswal, the fear of the bankruptcy, and the ghost of the accident felt miles away. Up here, I was just a girl in the arms of a man who looked at me like I was his entire world.
He rested his chin on my head, his heartbeat steady against my ear. "Better?"
"It's... incredible," I whispered, finally letting go of his shirt to rest my palms on his chest. "I feel like I can finally breathe."
"Then breathe, Little Rabbit," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. "The world can't reach you up here."
>>>>>>
The descent was a slow, rhythmic return to the earth, the silence of the sky gradually replaced by the distant sounds of the desert morning. As the basket touched the ground with a gentle thud, I felt a pang of genuine sorrow.
Up there, I could love him. Up there, I wasn't a Jaiswal and he wasn't a Rathore.
Mrityunjay lifted me out, his hands lingering on my waist. I didn't pull away. Instead, I leaned into him for a second longer than necessary, memorizing the steady beat of his heart against my ear.
"I actually did it," I whispered, looking back at the now-deflating crimson silk. "I survived."
"You did more than survive, Little Rabbit," he murmured, his thumb grazing the line of my jaw as he pulled me back into his heat. "You conquered it."
I leaned my head against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of sandalwood. I wanted to stay here, but the reality of the weekend was pressing against me.
"Mrityunjay," I said softly, my voice hesitant.
"Hmm?" He was busy tracing the shell of my ear with his lips, I felt a shiver run down my spine, seemingly content to stay in this field for the rest of the day.
"I... I won't be in Jodhpur for a few days."
He went still. The playful tenderness in his posture vanished instantly, replaced by a rigid, focused stillness. He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his green gaze sharpening.
"Explain," he commanded softly.
"There's a wedding," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "My best friend's brother. It's a destination wedding at Khimsar Fort. The whole group is moving there tomorrow. I'm part of the bridal party... I have to be there."
I watched his jaw tighten. He didn't ask about my family or my background. I could tell, to him, this was just an annoying social obligation stealing his time.
He didn't realize he was letting me go to a gathering where my real name was the only one people knew.
"Khimsar," he repeated, the name sounding like a heavy weight. "That is nearly a hundred kilometers away."
"It's just until Monday," I pleaded gently, reaching up to touch the lapels of his jacket. "We'll be back Monday morning. I'll come straight to see you."
"Monday?" he growled, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair to hold me in place. "That is far too many days for you to be out of my sight, Ishika."
"It's just a few days, Mrityunjay," I whispered, though the heat in his eyes made my breath hitch.
"To the rest of the world, three days is nothing," he said, his voice dropping to a low, possessive rasp as he leaned down until our noses brushed.
"But to me? You are the only thing that keeps the noise away. I don't like the silence without you. You will call me every night. If I don't hear your voice, I will find a reason to visit Khimsar. I don't care how many guests are watching."
"I'll call," I promised, my heart aching with a mixture of love and fear. "I promise."
He didn't say anything else. He simply captured my lips in a hard, lingering kiss-a brand to carry with me into the desert.
I kissed him back with a desperation I couldn't explain, trying to tell him I loved him without using the words.
He thought he was letting his girl go to a party; he didn't know I was going to a place where I would have to pretend the man I loved didn't exist.
~MRITYUNJAY (POV)~
The mood in the lounge was unusually light for a Thursday night. We weren't discussing liquidation or port strikes; we were watching Kartik pace the length of the rug like a caged tiger, his eyes glued to a flurry of incoming texts.
"If you vibrate any harder, Kartik, we're going to have to call a technician," Vidyut joked, leaning back with a grin.
Kartik stopped, shoving his phone into his pocket with a huff. "It's Aanika. She's officially gone into 'General Mode.' Apparently, the Gupta wedding in Khimsar is a small, intimate affair, which in her language means she has to personally supervise the placement of every single marigold petal."
I paused, swirling the ice in my glass. *Khimsar. The Guptas.*
"The Guptas?" I asked, keeping my voice casual. "I didn't realize they were doing a destination event."
"Just a small getaway at the Fort," Kartik grunted. "Aanika's been stressed for a week. She's heading out tomorrow morning with her pack-Mehak, the doctor, and that other quiet one she's always with. They've got a whole 'no-boys-allowed' weekend planned."
A spark of predatory interest lit up in my chest. My "Little Rabbit" had mentioned a wedding this morning. Khimsar. Her best friend. It didn't take a genius to put the pieces together.
She wasn't just going to a wedding; she was going with her inner circle, thinking she was safely tucked away in a "girls-only" fortress.
"You know," I said, a slow smirk spreading across my face. "I just remembered. Rathore Corp has been neglecting those heritage land parcels near the Khimsar border. A site visit is... long overdue."
Agastya choked on his drink, laughing. "A site visit? Mrityunjay, you haven't taken a 'vacation' that wasn't a hostile takeover since we were in school."
"Then consider this a historic first," I replied, standing up and straightening my cuffs. "Pack your bags, gentlemen. We're heading to the desert tomorrow morning."
Vidyut archly raised an eyebrow. "Are we actually going to look at dirt, or are we going to 'accidentally' run into a wedding party?"
"The dirt will be there on Monday," I said smoothly. "But a small, intimate wedding at Khimsar Fort? It would be a shame for the Hukum of Jodhpur not to show his support for such a... traditional gathering."
Kartik's eyes lit up with mischief. He stopped pacing and pointed a finger at me, a smug grin spreading across his face.
"Oh, I see how it is," Kartik laughed. "So the great Mrityunjay Singh Rathore finally wants to play wingman for me? You're actually going to drive three hours into the dunes just so I can 'bump into' Aanika? I didn't know you had a romantic bone in your body, Rathore."
Agastya grinned, joining in. "Hey, if the King wants to play wingman, who am I to argue? I've always wanted to see the Hukum carry a flight of drinks."
I didn't correct them. If they wanted to believe I was doing this for Kartik's love life, let them. It provided the perfect cover.
"Sunrise," I commanded, the thrill of the trap already humming in my veins. "Don't be late. I want to be at the Fort before the first toast is poured."
Ishika thought she was getting a weekend of freedom. She thought the desert air would give her space to breathe away from me. But she forgot that I own the horizon.
*Run all you want, Little Rabbit,* I thought. *But I'm the one who owns the Jungle.*