𝐀𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚 : 𝐸𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠

~🥀 Royal havoc 🥀~

💗

Anubhav stood still for a moment, as if savoring the weight of the moment, his sharp gaze flickering toward the hallway Noor Jahan had indicated. The tension in the room barely registered to him—his focus had already shifted, already drawn toward the one place he had been dying to reach.

Without another word, he stepped forward.

Each click of his polished shoes against the stone floor sent a jolt through Haseena’s veins.

She couldn't breathe.

Her limbs felt frozen, yet her heart pounded so violently it threatened to break free from her chest.

No. No. No.

She stumbled back, her fingers clutching the wooden edge of the window frame behind her, nails digging into the surface. Her entire body was tight with terror, her mind screaming at her to run.

The door creaked.

Haseena’s breath hitched as she watched the knob twist.

He was here.

He was stepping into her world again, into the fragile space she had fought so desperately to reclaim.

The air turned thick, suffocating, his presence seeping in like the shadow of a predator looming over its prey.

She could feel it.

Even without looking, she could feel him.

A step forward.

She stepped back.

Another step.

She moved again, the sheer panic in her veins forcing her back, back, back—until her spine hit the cold wall behind her.

Nowhere to go.

Her hands trembled, pressing against the wooden surface as if she could somehow push through it, escape the fate that was closing in on her.

Then, in the golden morning light spilling from the window—she saw him.

His towering frame blocked the doorway, the sharp contrast of shadows and light accentuating the dangerous allure of his features. The crisp black shirt stretched across his broad chest, the sleeves folded just below his elbows, exposing the veins running down his forearms. His dark eyes, smoldering with something unreadable yet terrifyingly possessive, locked onto her.

Anubhav didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

But his gaze spoke enough.

I found you, Luna.

Haseena sucked in a sharp breath, a cold shiver running down her spine.

Her throat was dry, her lips parted as if to say something—anything. But no words came.

Just silence.

Just fear.

And him.

Standing there, watching.

Like a hunter who had finally cornered his prey.

The door clicked shut behind him.

A dangerous smirk curled on his lips as he took in the sight before him—her frozen posture, the subtle tremble in her fingers, the way she refused to meet his gaze. His eyes darkened further, unreadable, his voice dripping with an eerie calmness.

"Kaisi hain aap ?"

His deep, velvety voice carried effortlessly through the room. The sharp edges of his Hindi were polished with a rich, husky English accent, making it sound far more intimidating than it should have been.