Pyar ek zaher hai aayara, aur ye kambakhat ishq , ek din zaan le lega ye meri .
kabhi naa kabhi to mujhe pta chalega ki tumhari aankhein aur tumhari baatein ek dusre se alag kyu hai.. aur tab tak.. sabr .. aur pyar .. pyar sikhaungi tumhe aur sabr...
Daksh stood in the crowd, observing the scene unfold. His usually mischievous and carefree demeanor was replaced by a solemn expression as he watched Rudra. He could see the pain behind his brother’s emotionless mask. Despite Rudra’s attempts to hide it, his heart was clearly breaking as he glanced repeatedly at Aayara, the woman he truly loved, now sitting beside Arjun.
Daksh sighed, feeling a rare pang of empathy for his brother. He knew how much Rudra had been struggling, and seeing him like this—forced into a marriage he didn’t want—left a bitter taste in his mouth. He clenched his fists, but knew there was nothing he could do to change the course of events.
Arjun leaned closer to Aayara, his smirk unmistakable as he whispered in her ear, “You look terrified, wifey. Don’t worry, after today, you’ll learn your place beside me. No one can save you now.”
His voice was low, laced with dominance and satisfaction. Aayara felt a shiver run down her spine, trapped by the weight of his words and the reality of the situation.
Aayara’s hands trembled as she gripped her lehenga, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. The weight of her emotions was overwhelming. Arjun noticed her distress and chuckled darkly, finding amusement in her vulnerability.
"Those tears won’t help you now," he whispered, his eyes gleaming with control. "You’re mine, Aayara. Accept it."
Arjun smirked as he played with the chura on Aayara’s wrist, the traditional red and white bangles a stark contrast to the cold touch of his fingers. His movements were slow, deliberate, sending shivers down her spine.
"These suit you," he murmured, his voice low and possessive. "Just like being mine does." His thumb brushed over her wrist, holding her in place as if he was reminding her of the invisible chains that bound her to him now.
Meanwhile, Dia tried to maintain a smile, though it felt strained. She could see Rudra's distracted gaze, often flickering toward Arjun and Aayara. Each glance he stole seemed to deepen the crease in her brow.
"Rudra," she said softly, attempting to draw his attention back to her, "are you excited about our future together?" But her words fell flat, overshadowed by the tension in the air. Rudra's expression remained distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere, making Dia's heart sink with uncertainty.
Rudra's eyes darkened with a mix of frustration and resentment. He clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of his emotions. How could Dia agree to this marriage knowing he didn't love her? It felt like a betrayal, a mockery of his feelings for Aayara. He shot a glance at Arjun and Aayara, their interaction further fueling his anger.
As the ceremony continued, Rudra forced a smile at Dia, masking his inner turmoil. But every moment felt like a reminder of the love he couldn't have, the life he was being pushed into against his will.
As Arjun delicately placed the mangalsutra around Aayara's neck, a hush fell over the gathering. The beautiful black and gold beads glinted under the soft lights, symbolizing their union. Aayara's heart raced, a mix of emotions flooding her—fear, sadness, and an unexpected thrill.
Arjun's gaze was steady, filled with a mix of triumph and possessiveness. He tightened the clasp, sealing their bond in front of everyone. Aayara glanced at Rudra, her heart aching at the sight of his pained expression. This moment felt like a bittersweet victory, and she couldn't shake the feeling that their destinies were irrevocably intertwined in ways none of them could have anticipated.
As Rudra took the mangalsutra and draped it loosely around Dia's neck, the crowd buzzed with a mix of surprise and tension. Dia, caught off guard, looked up at him, her smile faltering as she sensed his turmoil. Rudra's jaw was clenched, struggling to mask the emotions churning within him.
Arjun watched with a smirk, savoring the power dynamic in the room. Aayara's heart sank further as she realized the implications of Rudra's actions. The symbolic gesture felt hollow, a stark contrast to the bond she had just formed with Arjun. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, a tangled web of loyalty, love, and unspoken desires.
As Arjun lifted Aayara's veil, his gaze lingered on her features, taking in the beauty that had captivated him. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting a mix of fear and uncertainty. The moment felt charged, a blend of intimacy and power.
With deliberate slowness, he took the sindoor and applied it to her forehead, marking her as his. The crowd watched in silence, the weight of tradition pressing down on them. Aayara's breath hitched, a sense of finality washing over her as she became bound to him in this ceremonial act. Arjun's smirk widened as he savored the moment, reveling in the control he held over her life.
Yet, in the corner of his eye, he caught Rudra's furious glare, the tension palpable between the two brothers as the reality of their intertwined fates settled in.
Rudra's expression was a stark contrast to the celebration around him. As he applied the sindoor to Dia's forehead, his movements were mechanical, devoid of any warmth or affection. It was clear to everyone present that his heart was not in it.
Dia's smile faltered as she sensed his disinterest, her excitement dimming in the face of his cold demeanor. She glanced at him, searching for a flicker of the affection she had hoped for, but all she saw was a man trapped in a situation he didn’t choose.
Meanwhile, Aayara, caught in her own whirlwind of emotions, felt the weight of Rudra's gaze on her. The unspoken connection between them was palpable, even amid the vows being exchanged. As the ceremony continued, the tension between the two brothers only grew, each silently grappling with the choices that had led them to this moment.
As the pandit ji instructed everyone to stand for the pheras, a hushed anticipation filled the air. Arjun and Aayara took their places, facing each other, while Rudra and Dia followed suit.
The sacred fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow as they began to circle it. With each step, Aayara felt a mixture of excitement and dread, acutely aware of Rudra's unwavering gaze on her.
Arjun, determined to maintain control, held Aayara's hand firmly, guiding her through the ritual. Rudra's expression darkened further with each vow exchanged, his heart aching at the sight of Aayara in Arjun’s grasp.
As they completed the pheras, the air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings, the bonds of tradition wrapping around them all, yet underscored by the tension brewing just beneath the surface.
Arjun leaned closer to Aayara, his breath warm against her ear. "You belong to me now, wifey. Remember that," he whispered, his tone laced with both possessiveness and triumph.
Aayara's heart raced as she processed his words, feeling the weight of the promise that hung in the air. She could sense Rudra's piercing gaze, filled with an intensity that made her uneasy.
As the ceremony continued, Arjun's smirk deepened, relishing the moment while Aayara struggled to reconcile her feelings for Rudra with the reality of her new life. The atmosphere crackled with unresolved tension, leaving everyone on edge as the vows were completed.
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