chapter 6
Ishni pov
I opened my eyes as a warm ray of sunlight kissed my face. Stretching slowly, I blinked against the soft glow.
My heart… searched for him.
But the room was empty.
Rudra… wasn't there.
A strange ache pulsed in my chest. The memories of last night flooded back—
He had filled my hairline.
He went down on his knees for me.
He called me pure.
What is this feeling?
This strange, fluttering warmth inside my ribcage?
I didn’t even realize the door had opened.
“Don’t you think you’re troubling your brain too early?”
His voice—deep and sinful—dragged me out of my thoughts.
He was standing at the door… shirtless.
Leaning casually, sweat still gleaming on his temple. His broad shoulders flexed slightly, his abs glistening… his messy hair made him look like a Greek god risen from war.
And there I was… staring.
He walked closer.
“Close your mouth and blink, sweetheart.”
His chuckle sent a wave of electricity down my spine.
Crap.
I snapped my eyes away, burning cheeks betraying me.
“Planning to stay in bed all day?” he teased, leaning dangerously close.
“Though… I wouldn’t mind.”
I gulped and ran—literally ran—to the bathroom.
Behind me, I heard him laugh softly.
“Be careful, firebaby.”
I leaned against the bathroom door, breath heaving, skin flushed.
God, what is wrong with me.
---
I wore a red saree. It had been years since I touched one.
He gave it to me. I had nothing else.
My reflection shimmered in the mirror… draped in red, vermillion in my hair, and a whirlwind of thoughts in my eyes.
Then—I felt it.
His presence.
Through the mirror, I saw him.
Standing behind me. Watching me. His eyes… unreadable.
He stepped closer, his fingers gently brushing across my bare waist.
A gasp escaped me.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered.
His breath danced against my skin, sending chills across my spine.
He was wearing only a towel.
“Rudra…” I whispered, unsure if it was a protest or plea.
He didn’t say anything. Just wrapped his arms around me from behind.
As if shielding me. As if anchoring me.
“Ishni…” he murmured.
God—the way he said my name.
“Mm?” I hummed back, eyes closed.
“Leave the past,” he said gently.
“It’s over. I promise… I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not again.”
He kissed the top of my head.
I stood frozen.
How is he fixing something… he didn’t even break?
---
We walked downstairs together for breakfast.
I noticed the tension in his jaw as we neared the dining room. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes scanned everything.
He pulled out a chair and silently gestured for me to sit.
The dining table was luxurious—rosewood carved with gold accents, fine porcelain plates arranged in perfect symmetry, soft linen napkins, and a chandelier that cast warm amber light across the polished surface.
But all of it felt cold.
I glanced at him—he wasn’t eating. Just sipping juice. Picking at a salad.
I didn’t have much of an appetite either.
“What happened?” he asked suddenly, eyes fixed on me.
Two words. But laced with real concern.
“Nothing,” I replied flatly.
Then it came.
“What a day we’ve come to—eating at the same table as a criminal,” his aunt spat.
I didn’t flinch.
But I felt the way Rudra’s body stiffened beside me.
---
After breakfast, he changed into a dark tailored suit.
And I… I just kept staring.
How did this man walk into my prison, pull me out, marry me, fight the world for me, and still look at me like I’m something worth protecting?
“Wifey,” he drawled suddenly.
I jumped.
He was standing in front of me now, those hypnotic ocean-blue eyes locked on mine.
“If you keep staring at me like that… how will I ever leave?”
I fumbled.
“N-No… I wasn’t—” I mumbled, heat rising up my neck.
He smirked softly, cupping my face with warm palms.
“I’ll be back tonight. If you need anything… just call. Okay?”
His voice dropped to a whisper near the end. It was gentle. Real.
I nodded. Too stunned to speak.
And just like that—he left.
Leaving me alone in his mansion…
Alone with my thoughts,
And with a heart that was beginning to… ache for something I never believed I deserved.