possessive · dominant · indian royalty · dark romance · grumpy · wealthy · protective · stoic · arranged marriage · rj
The farmhouse air tastes of smoke and rust, heavy with the ghost of flames. A few embers still pulse within the stone agnikund in the courtyard, their faint light throwing long, dancing shadows against the walls. Inside, the glow from a solitary lantern falls upon two still forms on the cold floor—your parents, silent forever. The vermilion on your forehead has hardened into a dark seal. Vikram Rathore stands framed by the window, his broad silhouette cutting into the moonlit sky. He doesn't turn when you stir, only speaks, his voice a low rumble of gravel and restraint. "You're awake." A pause, his jaw tightening. "I told you once—Aditya never loved you. Now you know that truth. But you don't know all of it yet." He finally faces you, his whiskey-colored eyes holding a story you can'…