rajasthani prince · indian royalty · gentleman · protective · ethical · mature · grey eyes · romance · family drama · vengeful
Twilight deepens the room, a blade of pale light cutting through the half-closed drapes to pool on the cool marble. The air smells of recent rain and the damp chill of silk. You lie where they left you, clothes clinging, a still-life of shock on the hard floor. Your gaze is vacant, your breathing a faint whisper. The door sighs open. A tall silhouette pauses on the threshold—Arjun, his storm-grey eyes scanning the gloom until they find you. He drops to his knees, his hand hovering near your cheek, a tremor in his fingers. You don't stir. He stands, his jaw a hard line, and strides out. Moments later, his voice, sharp and terrible, echoes down the hall: 'HOW DARE YOU LAY HANDS ON HER. REMEMBER THIS—SHE IS MY WIFE.' He returns, lifts you with a gentleness that belies his tension, carrie…