Always Yours

how dare to come in

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Present day

Mahak sat with her hands cupping her cheeks, quietly listening as Harsh spoke, his voice thick with desperation. When he finally finished, she exhaled deeply, her expression unreadable.

"How can Shanya’s father fix her marriage anywhere else when she loves you? Yes, she’s mad at me—she has every right to be. But marrying someone else? That’s not happening."* 

Harsh’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. *Bhabhi maa, what do I do?"

Mahak placed a firm yet gentle hand on his shoulder. "Shanya will marry you. Her father’s issue is with Rudra, not you. And as long as I’m here, your Bhabhi Maa is alive and kicking—I’ll handle this."

Harsh didn’t hesitate before pulling her into a tight hug. *"Thank you, Bhabhi Maa."* 

Neither of them noticed the open door. But Rudra did. 

He had just returned home, heading toward his room when his gaze drifted toward Harsh’s open door—only to see Mahak in his arms. 

A muscle in his jaw ticked. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. It wasn’t distrust—it was something darker, something primal. He had never questioned Mahak’s loyalty, but seeing another man that close to her sent a slow burn through his veins, coiling tightly in his chest. 

Without a word, he turned and walked away. 

Mahak entered their room a few minutes later. The moment she stepped in, she felt the shift in the air. 

Rudra sat on the bed, legs crossed, arms stretched behind his head, his gaze locked onto her. His eyes were unreadable—dark, intense, smoldering with something dangerous. 

With unsettling calmness, he asked, *“Where were you?”* 

Mahak swallowed, suddenly feeling very small under his scrutiny. *“I-I was with Gauri,”* she stammered, dropping her gaze. 

The moment the words left her mouth, she felt the storm break loose. 

Rudra shot up from the bed. His strides were quick, deliberate, radiating dominance. Mahak instinctively stepped back, her breath hitching. 

But there was nowhere to go. 

Before she could take another step, her back hit the wall. The cold surface pressed against her spine as Rudra closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. 

His hand found her waist, fingers digging in just enough to make her shiver. And then, with a sudden, forceful pull, he yanked her forward. 

Mahak collided with his chest, her palms splaying against the hard planes of his body. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, her breath catching in her throat. 

She barely had time to react before his lips crashed onto hers. 

It wasn’t a kiss—it was a claim. Fierce, demanding, and utterly consuming. 

Rudra’s lips moved against hers with raw intensity, his grip on her waist tightening as if daring her to pull away. His other hand slid into her hair, tilting her head back, deepening the kiss. 

Mahak whimpered against his mouth, her fingers curling into his shirt. She could taste his dominance, his unspoken fury, the wild possessiveness he couldn’t contain. 

His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entry, and when she hesitated, he bit down on her lower lip—just enough to make her gasp. He took full advantage, slipping inside, exploring, claiming every inch of her mouth like he owned it.