𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫, 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬.

𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞.

𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲.

𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭—

𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞’𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞.

𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞.

𝐀 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝, 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲’𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬.

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Writing has always been my passion—a way to weave emotions into words, create stories that resonate, and bring characters to life. But behind every word written, there’s time, effort, and dedication that goes unseen. If my stories have ever moved you, made you feel something, or simply given you a moment of escape, I’d truly appreciate your support. Your contributions will help me continue creating meaningful content, exploring new ideas, and bringing more heartfelt stories your way. No amount is too small—every bit of support fuels this journey and allows me to keep doing what I love. If you believe in the power of storytelling and want to be a part of this journey, you can support me here. Thank you for being a part of my world—your encouragement means everything!

Bound By Fire And Fate

Avni had always been careful. She never let people too close, never trusted too easily. But Kiaan? He had forced his way into her life like a storm—reckless, infuriating, and impossible to ignore. They had been enemies from the start. His sharp words, her cold glares, the endless battle of wills. But somewhere between the arguments and the stolen glances, the lines blurred. And then the notes started. The feeling of being watched. The whispers in the dark. At first, she thought it was him. Kiaan—the man who knew too much about her, who always seemed to be a step ahead. But then she realized: he wasn’t the one watching her. Someone else was. For the first time, Kiaan wasn’t the threat. He was the shield. The shift between them was subtle. A lingering touch. The way his voice softened when he said her name. The way her heart betrayed her, beating too fast whenever he was near. But just when everything felt right—when she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could be something more— The screech of tires. The shattering of glass. A scream. And then—nothing.

Married To A Stranger

Mitra had always believed love was something she would choose. A quiet, steady flame, nurtured by time and understanding. But standing here, draped in red and gold, she felt like a pawn on a board she never agreed to play. She had once dreamed of this moment—the sacred vows, the flickering flames, the weight of promises whispered beneath a mandap. But not like this. Not with a man who was never meant to be hers. Rohan was gone. The betrayal still burned, raw and unspoken, but the world had moved too fast for her grief to settle. One moment, she was his bride-to-be; the next, she was told Veer would take his place. Veer. The man who had always been there—silent, watchful, a storm restrained beneath his composed exterior. She had never understood the way he looked at her, like she was something distant yet unbearably close. Now she did. Because Veer had loved her. Loved her from the very first moment. And still, he had let her go. And now, fate had rewritten their story with ink too dark to erase. Mitra looked up at him, searching for anger, resentment—anything to make this easier. But Veer only held her gaze, steady and unreadable, his hands clenched at his sides. “This isn’t fair,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’m not yours to claim.” A muscle tensed in his jaw. “I know.” A pause. A breath. And then— “But I was yours long before this day.” Before she could reply, before she could understand the weight of his words, the scent of smoke curled through the air. A gasp. A murmur of panic. And then— Flames. Rising, consuming, devouring. The mandap was burning.

Written in the Stars

The first time Aarav Pradhan kissed Sanya Bhattacharya, the world they felt burned gold like their love had encompassed everything. Yet the irony being their love became as fleeting as the evening sky. She had scoffed, “Idiot,” but kissed him back, gripping his collar like he was something fragile. Because at seventeen, love felt like forever. Until the night it all fell apart. One call. One scream. And Sanya was gone. Her mother—her anchor, her home—was ripped from her world, leaving behind nothing but silence and grief. Sanya stopped answering his calls, stopped meeting him behind the old banyan tree. When he finally found her, the girl who once traced hearts on his palm was a ghost of herself. "I don’t need you, Aarav." "You don’t mean that—" "Just go." Her voice had been sharp, final. But her hands had trembled. Aarav had begged, pleaded, but she had only walked away, leaving him with nothing but questions and the taste of something unfinished. Years later, she stood before him again. The same Sanya. But different. "Sanya." She smiled. Slow. Almost… pleased. “Aarav. It’s been a while.” "Not long enough," he muttered, but the words felt hollow. She only laughed, tilting her head. “Still so soft.” Something about the way she looked at him—like she knew him, owned him—sent a shiver down his spine. Nostalgia clawed at him, memories of stolen glances and whispered confessions tangling with the bitterness of abandonment. "Do you ever think about us?" he asked. She leaned in, voice a whisper. "Every. Single. Day." And just when Aarav thought he could finally unravel the mystery of her absence, a scream cut through the air. His breath hitched. And he saw over there Sanya as she lay on the pavement,with blood pooling around her.

01

Prologue

Shruti_stories_

Shruti_stories_

3 Followers

3 Following

Bound By Fire And Fate

Shruti_stories_

Married To A Stranger

Shruti_stories_

Written in the Stars

Shruti_stories_