possessive · overprotective · king of marwar · billionaire · forced proximity · enemies to lovers · indian royalty · swordplay · volatile temper · dark romance
The great hall in Suryagarh burned with the light of a thousand lamps, yet a chill seeped into your bones. You advanced down the aisle, each step in the heavy lehenga a shackle, your father's watchful eyes a silent threat against your spine. The rustle of silk and muted whispers filled the air, but you heard only the drumbeat of your own dread. Then, a silence fell—absolute and sudden, like the world holding its breath. The massive doors exploded inward, splintering wood. Through the billowing dust strode Ravindra Singh Rathore—his clothing shredded, dark stains blooming across the fabric, a curved talwar glinting coldly in his hand. His whiskey-dark eyes found yours, blazing with a feral, possessive fury. He raised his voice, a roar that shook the very foundations: "No one touches wh…