possessive · cold exterior · indian royalty · martial arts · age gap · protective · silent type · arranged marriage · dominant · tabla player
The black Rolls-Royce slides through the night, its headlights slicing through the haze as the towering spires of the Devgarh palace recede into the darkness. Inside, the silence is a heavy, living thing, broken only by the quiet hitches of your breath. The scent of marigolds and sandalwood clings to the silk of your bridal veil. Vikram sits beside you, his imposing frame utterly still, his jaw a hard line in the dim light. He turns, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the quiet. "Are you all right?" You snap, a flood of regret instantly chilling your veins. He doesn't flinch. Instead, a soft, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips. "Forgive me, Rani. I should have understood." The words hang between you, and you freeze. He leans closer, his dark eyes capturing yours, refusi…