by Aadhya
Some souls never forget. Some curses never fade.
They say the royal blood of Rathoregarh is cursed.
That once every hundred years, two souls are born again — bound by love, torn by fate.
One will remember. One will deny.And the demon who cursed them… will return to finish what he started.
This lifetime, the curse chose her.
Chapter One : The Curse Returns
The palace was burning.
Flames roared through the carved stone arches, swallowing gold-draped halls and silken tapestries. The air smelled of ash, betrayal, and blood.
She ran—barefoot—dragging her lover through the smoke-filled corridor, their hands clenched like lifelines.
"We won't make it," she cried, her voice breaking.
"We have to," he said, holding her tighter. "If we don't… we die again."
Behind them, the demon's shadow rose, laughing.
"Janhvi…" he whispered.
Her name.
"Together," she said, "even if we burn."
And then the fire consumed them.
Aadhya jolted awake.
Sweat clung to her skin, and the echo of the fire still rang in her ears. Her sheets were tangled around her legs, and her breath came fast, heavy.
She sat up, brushing her hair back, staring at nothing.
That dream… again.
Three nights in a row.Always the same fire.Always the same voice.And always that name—Janhvi.
But her name was Aadhya.
The soft chime of her phone pulled her back. Messages were flooding in—Family group chat chaos: decorators delayed, dhol party confusion, and someone panicking about the mehendi cones.
Right. Today was the engagement.
She slipped out of bed and walked into her wardrobe.
Within minutes, she emerged transformed:A pair of tailored beige trousers, a silk wine shirt tucked neatly in, gold hoops, and her signature bold eyeliner.Hair in a low sleek ponytail.A muted perfume.And that quiet confidence that made heads turn—even in silence.
She picked up her bag, added a slim leather file, and checked her phone one last time.
Downstairs, the house was buzzing.Lights being strung up on stair railings, flower baskets everywhere, the smell of marigolds and incense in the air.
Before she could escape to the kitchen, her mother's voice rang out:
"Aadhya beta! Please go to Verma Store and get the gift wraps and mehendi cones!"
"What about the drivers?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"All gone with the decorators! No one's home," her mother huffed, waving a half-folded list. "Please, na?"
Aadhya nodded.
"I have to drop something at the office anyway," she replied calmly. "I'll go."
Her mother looked relieved, already yelling at someone else about sweets.
Outside, the sun hit the white walls of the Rathore mansion, setting them a glow. Aadhya stepped into the driver's seat of her sleek black car and pulled out smoothly. No drama. No noise.
But her mind wasn't on the road. It was still somewhere in that dream. That name. That fire.
Why does it feel like more than just a dream?
Why does Janhvi sound like… me?
As Jaipur's morning unfolded in its usual golden haze, Aadhya had no idea—that this was the day fate would rise again.
And love, born from fire, would come knocking once more.
END OF CHAPTER ONE