Chapter 38
Bound by Obsession
Anvi should have run.
She should have fought.
She should have resisted the man who stood before her, dripping in blood and power.
But she didn’t.
She couldn’t.
Because Agastya’s grip was unrelenting.
And his dark, burning eyes?
They held a promise.
A warning.
A claim.
"You don’t get to leave me, Pari." His voice was pure possession.
"You never could."
---
A King Who Will Never Let Go
Anvi swallowed, her pulse racing as Agastya pulled her flush against him.
His heat seeped into her skin.
His fingers traced her jawline, her throat, her pulse.
"This heart," he murmured, pressing his thumb over the frantic beating beneath her skin, "it beats for me, doesn’t it?"
She shuddered.
"I…"
"Tell me the truth, jaan."
His voice was gentle.
But the demand in his eyes?
Unforgiving.
Because he knew.
Knew that no matter how much she fought, how much she denied it—
She was his.
She had always been.
Would always be.
And that was her greatest fear.
Her greatest weakness.
---
?? The Queen’s Breaking Point
She shoved at his chest.
Not enough to move him.
Just enough to fight the inevitable.
"I don’t belong to you."
Agastya laughed.
A low, dangerous sound.
"Oh, Pari."
His fingers curled around her waist, trapping her against him.
"Do you think that matters?"
She struggled.
He let her.
Because he loved it.
Loved her fire.
Loved that even when she was breaking, she still tried to fight.
But she was fighting the wrong war.
"Stop resisting me, jaan."
"Never."
His jaw clenched.
His patience snapped.
"Then I’ll just have to remind you who you belong to."
Before she could speak, protest, or even breathe—
Agastya lifted her into his arms.
Effortless. Possessive.
"A-Agastya!" she gasped, hands gripping his shoulders.
But he didn’t stop.
Didn’t waver.
He strode through the warehouse doors, stepping into the waiting car.
And as the doors locked behind them—Anvi knew.
There was no escape.
---
?? The Devil’s Prison is His Love
The drive was silent.
Tense. Thick with unsaid words.
Agastya’s fingers tapped against the leather seat.
Anvi’s breath was unsteady.
Because she didn’t know what he would do next.
But she knew one thing.
This was far from over.
---
His Prisoner, His Obsession
The car ride was suffocating.
Anvi could feel his gaze on her, burning into her skin like an unspoken warning.
She sat stiffly, her hands curled into fists on her lap, but her pulse betrayed her.
He felt it.
He always did.
"You’re too quiet, Pari." Agastya’s voice was calm, but she knew better.
He was calculating. Waiting.
She turned her head toward the window, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.
"Ignoring me won’t change the fact that you’re mine."
Her jaw tightened. "I’m not."
Silence.
Then—
The car suddenly veered off the road.
Her breath hitched as the driver pulled into a private estate, tall walls stretching endlessly into the night.
A fortress.
A cage.
She turned to him, eyes wide. "Where are we?"
Agastya smirked. "Home."
---
The Queen’s Final Defiance
Anvi barely had time to react before the car door was pulled open.
Agastya stepped out, his grip firm on her wrist as he pulled her along.
"Agastya, let go!" she struggled, trying to wrench her hand away.
He didn’t.
Didn’t even acknowledge her resistance.
He led her into the mansion, his long strides unyielding, forcing her to keep up.
"You can throw your tantrums later, Pari. Right now, I’m done playing this game."
She snapped.
"I’m not your damn toy!" She yanked herself free, chest heaving.
Agastya turned slowly.
His eyes—dark, unreadable, dangerous.
A chill ran down her spine.
"A toy?" His voice was a whisper.
"You think that’s what you are to me?"
Anvi swallowed hard but stood her ground.
"You treat me like one. Controlling me. Locking me away."
He took a step closer.
"I protect what’s mine."
"I am not yours!"
The words echoed.
But the second they left her lips—she regretted them.
Because the shift in Agastya’s expression was instant.
Something snapped.
---
?? The Devil’s Claim
Before she could move, he had her against the wall.
Trapped. Caged.
His hands pressed against the surface beside her head, his body so close she could feel the heat radiating from him.
Her breath hitched.
"Not mine?" His voice was low, dangerous.
His eyes scanned her face.
The tremble in her fingers.
The rapid rise and fall of her chest.
The way her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath.
He saw everything.
Felt everything.
"Say it again."
Her heart pounded. "I—"
"Say it." His voice dropped to a whisper.
She couldn’t.
Because the truth was—she was his.
Had been from the moment he entered her life.
And he knew it.
He leaned closer, his lips just barely grazing her ear.
"You can fight me all you want, jaan."
His fingers trailed down her arm. "But you’ll never escape me."
Her pulse skipped.
Because deep down—
She already knew.
She didn’t want to.