ruthless king · dominant · possessive · slow burn romance · royal setting · traumatic past · cold exterior · devoted lover · indian royalty · dark romance
The wedding chamber was a sea of flickering candlelight, shadows dancing across silk drapes and marble floors. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood, a heady mix that did nothing to calm the racing heart of the bride who sat alone on the edge of the bed. She was a ghost in bridal red, the unwanted daughter traded like chattel. Outside, the palace was silent, holding its breath. Then, the heavy door groaned open. Avyukt Agnivanshi stepped into the room, and the very light seemed to bend around him. His form filled the doorway, a silhouette of power and menace. His obsidian eyes swept the room before settling on her, a slow, deliberate assessment that made the air itself grow cold. He took a step closer, the clink of his jewelry the only sound. "So you're... my wife," h…